Highlander's Dark Pride

by Fiona Faris

  “The steward. He will bring us some labour to help us work on the house.”

  “Oh aye? That’s kind of him.” Alexander laughed. “I promised to pay them.”

  “But o’ course. Come, Frances has made us some bannocks for breakfast. The house can wait until after our stomachs are full.”

  Alexander nodded, glancing at his wife who was standing uncertainly behind Rebecca. He nodded at her. “Good morning to ye.”

  “Good morning.”

  He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should lean down and kiss her. However, she turned and walked away before he could make up his mind. He sighed, following slowly behind her.

  The delicious aroma of bannocks cooking drew him to the croft, and he realized he was quite hungry. They had carried some food stores with them, but it would not last forever. He needed to think about the best way to keep his family fed, at least until they had the house up and running.

  The best person to help with that would be Amos. If he was faithful and did indeed bring workers to help rebuild the manor house, he would need to find out everything he could about the running of this place.

  In the meantime, he was the ruling landlord, which meant that the hunting land was his. He could go out and catch some rabbits and other game for them to eat. It was the first time in a long time that he had had a place to call his own. It might not be much, but it was a start.

  “How are we for food?” he asked Rebecca.

  “We are okay. We have provisions to last us a while, don’t worry.”

  Alexander nodded. “Good.”

  “Good?” Emily asked him in disbelief. “You call this good.”

  Alexander gave her a smile and a shrug. “It’s better than where we come from.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Amos was indeed faithful to his word and came back with several crofters who worked the dun Alba fields. They were not very enthusiastic about the new landlord but got to work grudgingly, to help clear the manor house.

  Alexander threw himself enthusiastically into the labour. There was much to do if they were to make the house habitable.

  “I think we shall just close off the entire west wing since it is basically a pile of rubble. We do not need it anyway, not at the moment.”

  Rebecca nodded her agreement but Alexander turned his head looking for Emily, “what do ye say, wife? Do ye agree?”

  Emily nodded. “I suppose we can get to it at a later time.” Alexander was quite surprised to see her pick up a broom to sweep out the kitchen area. He had expected that she would lie in the shade and complain about the dust. Instead, she was whipping up quite a bit of dust herself. The kitchen had obviously not been used in a long time.

  “Perhaps when we have cleared the hearth we can get a fire going, I think we have ingredients to make soup for everybody.”

  Taken aback, Alexander scratched at his chin.

  “Indeed. Weel I shall leave you to it and go and help the men move the stones from the top of the stairs.” He turned to his sister, “would ye see about the light sconces? Some of the hallways are quite dark. But don't ye go alone. Take Frances with ye.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes at him as she stopped cleaning the countertop and went to do as he said, Frances, following meekly after her.

  Alexander watched her go with an indulgent smile before turning back to Emily, the smile still on his face. They were still not on particularly friendly terms, but they needed to get along.

  “Is there anything I can get ye? Do ye need me to hunt for meat or find ye some vegetables for yer soup?”

  Emily smiled. “No thank you. We brought enough to last us a few days. We even have some live chickens, in a covered basket if ye’d like to slaughter something for the meal.”

  Alexander gave an awkward nod. “I’ll do that then. If ye need me, I’ll be...” he pointed toward the croft where their belongings were.

  They stood at the opposite ends of the kitchen regarding each other awkwardly, each not knowing how to take leave of the other. There was a strange tension between them, almost like reserve.

  “Weel...I’ll be off then.” Alexander pointed to the door with his thumb.

  “Yes all right.” Emily nodded rather formally.

  He hesitated for another moment before nodding back and walking quickly away as Emily watched him go. Despite herself she was attracted to him and felt frustrated by their lack of closeness. She could not wait for them to have some privacy to explore the awkward tension that grew between them every time they were in the same room.

  A shout from the courtyard jolted her back to the presents and dropping her broom rushed to see what was happening. The courtyard was filled with men - hostile-looking men brandishing weapons. Alexander stood at the top of the stairs hands on his hips, the knife in his scabbard still sheathed.

  Emily gasped in fear, attracting Alexander’s attention. He turned, his eyes widening with alarm as they came to rest upon her. His brow beetled. “Go back into the house,” he growled.

  She was so startled that she obeyed without thinking - sinking back into the shadows of the hallway and out of sight of the men outside.

  “What is happening?”

  She jumped, squeaking in alarm as Rebecca’s hand closed about her arm. Her hand went to her heart. “You scared me!”

  “Och, sorry. I thought ye heard me come up behind ye. What is going on?”

  “I don't know. There are men in the courtyard and Alexander told me to get back in the house.”

  Rebecca made to move past her but Emily grabbed her arm to detain her. “No!” she whispered urgently, “Wait.”

  “You are not welcome here,” the leader of the ragtag group of men stepped forward.

  Amos brushed past the ladies and went to stand beside Alexander, who leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Who are these people?”

  Amos pulled him back into the house.

  “Those people are the reason that the house is run down and why the people are resentful. They are a hoard of brigands that have been terrorizing us ever since the war started. They call themselves roundheads but they're just bandits.”

  Alexander nodded thoughtfully. “I see.”

  Emily crowded up against him clutching at his sleeve. “What will we do?” Her eyes darted fearfully towards the outside.

  Alexander covered her hand with his, “Never fear my dear I shall take care of it.” He was surprised at the surge of protectiveness that filled him as he looked down at his wife.

  “How, how will you take care of it?”

  Alexander merely squeezed her hand and let go and turned to Amos. “Do ye have any weapons on the premises?”

  Amos frowned. “There may be still some things in the armory but most would be rusted.”

  “Let me see what you have.”

  Amos hurried away, and Alexander turned to his sister and his wife. “I shall go out there and talk to them. Both of you wait for me in the kitchen.”

  Both stared stonily back. “We are not going anywhere.”

  Alexander tried glaring at them, but they remained unmoved. “Fine. Stay in here then. But under no circumstances come outside.”

  Alexander walked out of the house, hand on his knife and eyes on the leader of the bandits. He knew they were spoiling for a fight, and that one way or the other he would have to give it to them. The only thing he wanted was that nobody in his care was hurt. He puffed himself up, looming over them, his face like thunder.

  “Leave my compound,” he growled.

  The band of man laughed, looking around at each other as if they thought him mad or stupid. Alexander whipped out his knife and threw it, slicing the skin neatly off the bandit leader’s chin. The entire group froze in shock, as blood dripped onto the leader’s jerkin in bright red drops.

  Alexander stood in front of them, legs apart, claymore in hand, ready to do battle. The bandits did not seem to know what to do next. The leader stared at Alexander, his eyes narrowed.

  “Le
ave.”

  The bandit leader lifted his mace and charged forward.

  At the top of the stairs, Emily screamed in horror while Amos clanked his way down the stairs carrying a shield and a sword. Behind him, the other crofters emerged, walking down the stairs to form a semi-circle behind Alexander. The crofters glared at the bandits as their leader charged Alexander, making sure that they did not swarm him all at once.

  Alexander flew forward, meeting the bandit leader in a clash and clang of metal. Amos shifted from foot to foot, wanting to pass the weapons he had found to Alexander without distracting him from the fight.

  Alexander was using his claymore to good effect, making sure that the mace did not touch him. But he was playing a defensive game and sooner or later he would tire, and the bandit would issue a killing blow. He had to do something drastic before that happened.

  Ducking, he swept his claymore against the bandit’s legs, sweeping them out from under him. The man fell to the ground and Alexander took the opportunity to bat the mace out of his hands. The man held tight onto it, rolling away from Alexander and aiming the mace at his legs, trying to do to the same to Alexander.

  Jumping away, Alexander gave his opponent a chance to get back onto his feet.

  “Get ‘im Christophe!” somebody shouted from the crowd. The bandit leader, Christopher, responded by rushing at Alexander to cheers from his crew. Alexander let him come within striking distance before swinging his claymore once again. It smashed into Christopher’s arm and he cried out, dropping his mace in pain. Alexander moved in for the kill.

  Emily screamed as Alexander lifted his claymore over his head, ready to deliver the final blow. Distracted he glanced toward her, wondering if she was in trouble. Within a second Toby had crashed. That was all the space Christopher needed to crash into Alexander, the full weight of his body making him stagger backward into Amos.

  Christopher was still clutching his arm and Alexander was quite certain that it was broken or at least fractured the bone. He found his balance quickly and leaped forward at Christopher before the bandit could take advantage again. Pressing down on the bandit’s injured arm, the man could not help but yell out in pain.

  The crowd groaned in sympathy but was kept back from the fight by the line of crofters. Alexander pulled the man forward and punched him in the face, following it up immediately with another punch to the arm.

  Christopher yelled again, going down on one knee. “Gadzooks!”

  Alexander kicked him in the crotch.

  Christopher fell forward, rolling to and from on the ground, groaning in pain. Alexander glared at his followers. “I said leave my land.”

  Alexander did not have time to see the mace thrown at him. It hit his knee and he flew backward, landing on his buttocks with a groan. He could hear Emily’s shrill scream as she emerged from the house and stood at the top step, her hands covering her mouth in shock and fear. He narrowed his eyes at her, willing her to come no further.

  Rebecca followed and stood with her hand around Emily’s arm, nodding slightly to Alexander as if to say, “I will look out for her.”

  Toby staggered Christopher was staggering toward Alexander, swinging his mace from side to side. Alexander knew that if he did not get out of its way, he would have a mace-sized dent in his head before long. Diving forward, he aimed for Christopher’s legs, grasped his ankles, causing him to trip. The bandit leader fell onto him, his weight landing like a battering ram onto Alexander’s already battered knee.

  He heard the distinct sound of something crack and bit his lip so as not to yell. Reaching out, he grabbed Christopher’s hand in his and wrested the mace out of it, swinging it awkwardly and aiming it at Christopher’s side.

  The bandit leader saw it coming and tried to get out of the way but was too slow. The mace landed with a terrible crunching sound against Christopher’s ribs and sent him flying. He landed with a thud against the bottom step and lay there, panting. Alexander watched to see if he would get back up, as Amos handed him the shield and sword, but Christopher continued to lay there.

  Painfully, Alexander got to his feet, breath coming hard as bellows.

  “Leave…my land.” He said once again.

  The other bandits surrounded their leader, picking him gingerly off the ground and helping him to his feet. He pushed them roughly away. “I can walk on me own.”

  They let him go, staying close lest he stagger or fall. Christopher aimed a glare in Alexander’s direction before he led his crew out of the courtyard.

  As soon as the danger was passed, the crofters burst into conversation, all speaking at once. Alexander tested his knee, trying to see if he could stand on it but found that it was excruciating to put even the slightest weight upon it.

  “You’re hurt.” His wife’s quiet voice broke him out of his fugue state. He turned his head sharply to face her, sweat flying from the tendrils plastered along his cheek.

  “I am fine.” Gritting his teeth he tried to put his foot on the ground. She reached for his arm, slinging it about her neck.

  “Let me help you.” Her arm went around his waist and he looked down at her in disbelief thinking that he would crush her if he dared to rest even a little of his weight on her delicate bones.

  “I can wa-” he began, but then his sister was on his other side and the two of them were propelling him forward, leading him to the step so he could sit down.

  “What can I do ma’am?” Frances was standing in front of them, wringing her apron, her eyes on Rebecca.

  “Go to my saddlebag, there you will find a pouch filled with simples. Find the poppy, and mix with water then bring it to me.”

  “No...” Alexander mumbled.

  “I beg yer pardon?”

  “No. The poppy makes me drowsy and gives me bad dreams. I dinna want it.”

  “Alex, ye’re hurt. We must check yer knee and yer arm. We canna do that with ye sober.”

  “Then fetch me some whisky lass. Tis in my bags.”

  Rebecca sighed; looking resigned but nodded for Frances to do as he said.

  “We won’t have to amputate his leg, will we?” Emily’s voice shook with terror.

  “What? Nay. He isna hurt so bad.” Rebecca almost laughed but was quiet in respect for Emily’s fear. She and Alexander could not help exchanging amused glances, nevertheless.

  They lowered Alexander onto the banister and he stretched his leg out. Amos came up behind them. “What shall we do now?”

  “Ye’ll get back to work is what ye’ll do.”

  Amos huffed but went to inform the other crofters that the break was over. Alexander made sure to sit up straight, his eyes on the crofters as they trudged past him and into the house. Frances came hurrying back with the whisky and he grabbed it from her, unscrewing the top and downing as much as he could in one gulp.

  “Are ye ready?” Rebecca regarded him with her solemn gaze.

  Alexander nodded shortly.

  Emily put a hand over her mouth, already starting to feel queasy.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rebecca lifted Alexander’s sark and began to gently explore his side, pressing inwards at different spots to see if there was an injury. She could see bruises on his pale skin but knew from how gingerly he was keeping his weight off it that most of his pain was emanating from his knee.

  “Do ye think it’s broken?”

  Alexander shook his head. “No. It is simply bruised I think.”

  “So we won’t have to amputate it?” Emily heaved a sigh of relief, visions of having to wield an axe and chopping off Alexander’s leg disappearing from her mind. She was surprised to find Alexander and Rebecca regarding her with twin blue gazes, a perfect mix of exasperation and amusement apparent in both eyes.

  “No we willna be amputating anything. Why don’t ye go to the kitchen and mix up some poppy water in case Alexander changes his mind eh? Ye do know how to do tha’ no?”

  Emily nodded. “Of course.”

  Alexander fixed
a glare on Rebecca. “I said I dinna want any.”

  “Perhaps not now brother, but ye might find it difficult to sleep later if ye are in pain. Better to be drugged and well rested than not.”

  Alexander sighed in annoyance but did not argue further with his sister. He knew full well what a futile exercise that was. Frances came hurrying with the bag of simples and Rebecca got to work mixing willow bark and valerian and then left it to steep while she ran her fingers delicately along Alexander’s knee, looking for a break.