Highlander’s Broken Love by Fiona Faris

Chapter Six

Ian was standing at a point in the river where the water reached up to his waist. The liquid was cool as it lapped round his legs and against his stomach. He was unsure how long he had been standing there, staring up at the moon and stars overhead, but he had no intention of moving just yet. It was the calmest place to be right now.

He had come to this river the same night he had decided to leave the clan and head for Laird MacPherson’s lands. The clarity that came with swimming in the river that night had given him peace.

Tonight, it seemed that peace would not come so easily.

“Ye realize ye have been down here for hours,” Alex’s voice disturbed him, making him turn around in the river and look to the line of trees nearby. Alex stepped out from the darkness and into the moonlight, taking a seat on a nearby rock. “Ye intend on comin’ back up?”

“Nae yet,” Ian shook his head and turned back around in the river, looking up at the stars. With the movement, he heard Alex hiss. “What is it?”

“Yer back, Ian,” Alex’s voice was thick with concern. “I daenae ken which is worse: the marks Jockie has given ye, or the scars. This cannae pass without action. There will be justice for this. I’ll make sure of it. I give ye me word.”

Ian had no answer. He had cleaned the wounds as well as he could and was now waiting for them to close up a little more. Some would not close for hours; he knew that from previous whippings.

“I’m just glad ye are alive,” Alex sighed, causing Ian to turn around again.

“Aye, me too. There were many days I thought I would die in that prison,” he shook his head, recalling each morning after torture when he had awoken, certain the devil was clawing at his back with long fingernails. “Well, ye ken how I have been all this time. How are ye, Alex? How’s Delilah?” Alex’s face spread into a smile at the mention of his wife. “She’s always had that effect on ye,” Ian pointed at his friend’s face.

“Aye, I ken,” Alex nodded. “She’s well. We have a son.”

“Ye do?” Ian felt a jolt of happiness for his friend as he walked forward, out of the river. “Alex, ye’re a faither!”

“I ken. He’s very like Delilah. Some days, I cannae keep up with him, though; he’s forever gettin’ into mischief.”

“Sounds like ye.”

“Aye, just so,” Alex laughed. “Since he came into this world, Delilah has never stopped smilin’.” Alex tossed him a towel to dry off as he stepped out onto the riverbank.

“I’m pleased for ye, Alex,” Ian said, overwhelmed that after all of his troubles, Alex’s life had worked out well. “I will be glad to see her again.” Alex went quiet. He lowered the towel to see his friend frowning at him. “Did I say somethin’ to offend ye, Alex?”

“Ye cannae come back to the MacPherson Clan, Ian.” Alex’s words made Ian reach for his clothes and hurry to change.

“Ye daenae want me back?” He whipped his head back round.

“Of course, I do,” Alex said quickly. “Nay man has been a better friend to me than ye have been. I ken that. It’s because of that, that I must return the favor. I will stand by yer side in whatever ye decide from here, but ye need to ken what clan ye have come back to.”

“Ye’re talkin’ in riddles,” Ian shook his head as he pulled his shirt on over his shoulders and sat on a rock nearby.

“Yer people need ye here –”

“They are nae me people,” Ian cut off Alex before he could say any more. What followed was just a beat of silence, with Alex staring at him, clearly waiting for him to say more. “Daenae look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“With expectation,” he waved a hand in Alex’s direction. “They were me faither’s people, aye; now they are Grier’s.”

“Aye, and that is workin’ out so well for them, isnae it?” The scoff made Ian lean forward a little more, intrigued by Alex’s words.

“What do ye mean?”

“Ye have eyes, Ian,” Alex gestured back to the trees. “Yer clan lives in a camp. That doesnae trouble ye?”

“They were attacked, werenae they? What else would I expect?”

“Ye daenae truly think that. I ken it. Otherwise ye would be a greater fool than I ever thought ye.” The honesty in Alex’s statement made Ian stiffen a little more.

“Why do I feel like there is somethin’ I daenae ken?”

“Because there is much ye daenae ken,” Alex shook his head, before turning his eyes out to the river. “Ye have been locked in prison for so long, this place has changed. Hugely. Aye, yer clan was attacked. Destroyed nae long after ye were arrested. The castle was ruined. There is nae a thing left of the town, and much of the land is now owned by the English. What has Grier done to rebuild the clan?” He looked around hopelessly. “He keeps them in a camp. There is nay plannin’ to mend the castle or build a new town. Nothin’. Ye need to ken that, Ian. As much as I wish I could bring ye back to the MacPherson Clan, ye need to decide where yer place is first. Then I’ll support ye in that choice. Ye need to first ken what Grier is doin’ with yer clan.”

“It’s his business how he runs the clan, Alex.” Ian was not going to be drawn in by this conversation. The clan was Grier’s responsibility. He wanted that responsibility, and he took it all those years ago.

“What about the welfare of yer people? Hmm?” It was clear Alex was getting a little frustrated now, leaning forward off the rock with his jaw tight. “Ye must have seen today how divided these people are. It’s plain to see.”

Ian nodded, for he could not deny the evidence of his own eyes.

“Grier rewards those who are loyal to him with his favor, with extra money, more food, and much more. Anyone who used to favor your claim all those years ago has been shunned ever since. Why do ye think Bhaltair is still a guard, for heaven’s sake? In me clan, he would be a General by now. Nay, Grier wouldnae have someone who stands for ye in such a powerful position,” Alex shook his head. “Those who daenae think well of him have been bullied, some even persecuted. So that eventually, he drives them away. I cannae tell ye how many families I’ve had turn up in me clan these last few years lookin’ for a new home.”

“That’s true?” Ian sat up straight, startled by this news. “How many?”

“Too many,” Alex kept his voice low. “Even some of the people that used to be loyal to him are turnin’. The land they were promised for farmin’ has been given to his most loyal tacksmen instead. People’s livelihoods are bein’ damaged by his greed to buy the most loyal men.”

Ian looked down at his left hand where the fingers were still slightly deformed from having been broken in prison. He sought to distract himself from the conversation by looking at it.

He didn’t like hearing that his father’s people were suffering. It gnawed at him, but he was hardly in a position to protect them. He had only just escaped prison; besides, he deserved their loyalty even less than Grier did. When Grier had taken the lairdship, what had he done? He’d turned and ran to save his own skin. He hadn’t fought for the people at all.

“It’s nae just his own people he’s alienated, but friends too. Other clans.”

“Then why are ye here to discuss trade?” Ian asked, lifting his gaze back to his friend.

“For the sake of yer memory,” Alex shrugged as though it were obvious. “That’s why I came the first time, to maintain trade links. Ever since then, I’ve come to keep an eye on the place. It’s nae unusual for me to go home with some new people in me entourage who wish to escape this place. Grier has few friends left in the other clans because he doesnae wish to make alliances. With this place just a camp, how long do ye think it will be before one of the clans takes advantage of that? What of the MacDonel Clan?”

Hearing the MacDonels mentioned was too much for Ian. He stood to his feet and looked away from Alex, unable to listen to the words.

“Ye ken as well as I how power hungry they are. How long do ye think it will be before they arrive here, takin’ advantage of Grier’s weakness?”

“Aye, so he’s a poor laird. That’s clear from what ye said,” Ian snapped the words, trying to get him to cease.

“Ye wish me to stop speakin’ of it?” Alex half laughed. “I have many more tales I could tell ye.”

“I daenae need to hear them. Alex, it is nae me responsibility to change this place.” Ian knew Alex would keep speaking. He was a willful man, and, once he had made up his mind to say something, he would continue until all was said.

“Aye, it is, though ye deny it.” Alex was on his feet now. “And as long as ye continue to deny it, I will tell ye what ye need to hear. If the broad strokes willnae persuade ye, then how about a couple of specifics?”

“Alex,” Ian turned to his friend with a warning tone, but he just ignored it and carried on, walking alongside him and following him down the riverbank in the darkness.

“What would ye do if I told ye about old Thomas who used to own the forge in town?”

“I remember Thomas,” Ian said with a nod. Not only was he the town’s blacksmith, but a wise man indeed, who many went to for advice.

“When he spoke up against Grier’s decisions, sayin’ he weakened the clan, he went missin’.”

“What do ye mean missin’?” Ian watched Alex’s face in the moonlight as his eyebrows knitted together.

“That’s the point. Nobody kens. A little convenient, daenae ye think?” At Alex’s words, Ian picked up his pace, as though trying to walk away from his friend, but Alex kept up with him. “How about the story of the woman accused of attackin’ Jockie?”

“What woman?”

“Cannae remember her name,” Alex shook his head. “But she was exiled from here for goin’ after Jockie with a knife. She claimed it was self-defense, that he was tryin’ to attack her.”

These words brought Ian to a sudden stop. He could see that the move had surprised Alex, who stopped too, panting a little to catch his breath.

“She was found by me own entourage on our next trip here. She had retreated to the hills to find somewhere to live. When winter set in, she died of the cold.” Hearing Alex’s words made Ian grimace and close his eyes for a minute. After what Jockie had just attempted to do to Elisabeth, he didn’t doubt the tale for a minute.

“Aye, very well,” Ian nodded and opened his eyes. “So, Grier is a bad laird indeed.”

“Nay, he is nae just bad. He is immoral.” Alex raised his head higher. “I’ve made enough mistakes of me own as laird, ye ken I have, but every error I made I tried to correct. Grier is nae such a man. He makes decisions for the advancement of his own claim to the lairdship and his son’s. He doesnae think of the clan; he merely buys the loyalty he needs from a few people. That is all. Either this clan will implode in on itself, and he’ll be doomed by those he has wronged, or it will all end when another clan comes to take advantage of Grier’s weakness and get the land.”

“I daenae understand,” Ian backed away a step from Alex. “If all if this is true, why does the clan put up with it? Why do they nae just challenge him? Oust him from the position?” He was startled to see Alex clearly fighting a laugh.

“And ye think that is easy to do, do ye?”

“Alex,” Ian had had enough. He stepped toward his friend, levelling his gaze and grabbing his shoulder. “I am nae the man to do it for them. I daenae want the lairdship.”

“Why nae?”

“Because I have me reasons,” Ian said simply, not intending to speak of them just now.

“Ian,” Alex’s voice took on a note of gravitas Ian had not heard before. “These people nae only need a new leader, they want a new leader. Does that mean nothin’ to ye?”

“Of course, it does,” Ian said somberly. “I’m crushed to hear what Grier has done. Naturally, I am. But I willnae be the next laird.”

Alex crossed his arms over his body, narrowing his gaze at Ian.

“Can I ask why nae?”

“Nae now,” Ian shook his head. “Today I have escaped a life as a prisoner. A life I thought I was doomed to forever. Right now, I want nothin’ more than a good night’s sleep.”

“Very well,” Alex nodded and stepped back, gesturing to the tree line. “Then ye better go take it. Though if ye think this is the end of the conversation, then ye daenae ken me at all.” Ian smiled in spite of himself as he looked at Alex walking at his side.

“Give me one minute’s peace, Alex,” he pleaded just as there was the sound of small stones falling against each other nearby. Both Ian and Alex froze, looking around themselves through the darkness. Even in the moonlight, Ian could see nothing but the tree trunks and the river glistening behind him. “Did ye see anythin’?”

“Nay,” Alex shook his head. “But I doubt an animal could kick up stones like that.” Ian agreed, it sounded more like a human stumbling through the stony path nearby. He winced, remembering what Grier had ordered his men to do earlier that day.

“They’re watchin’ me. Just as Grier ordered them to do,” he whispered to Alex.

“Do ye think they heard what we were speakin’ of?” Alex asked.

“I daenae ken. We’ll have to watch our backs, me friend. Grier willnae hesitate to kill me if he can find a reason for it.”

“A shame,” Alex shook his head.

“What is?”

“I was just thinkin’ how much money I spent on yer first funeral. Nae sure I could spend the same again on yer second.” At Alex’s jest, Ian was relieved to be able to laugh.

* * *

Elisabeth still hadn’t seen Ian return from the river, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to fight off sleep. Her eyes kept closing for a few minutes at a time before she opened them again, her gaze returning to the same spot in the trees as before. Now that the camp was shrouded in a mixture of shadow and moonlight, it was becoming harder to keep her eyes on the spot.

Around her, there wasn’t much noise now. Most people in this camp town had returned to their tents for the night, putting out fires with water leftover from washing up. She could even hear the soft sound of snuffling snores nearby. Before one group nearby had gone to bed, she had noticed some of the women looking away, muttering under their breaths and motioning toward her as they spoke. She didn’t know what they had said, but a short while later one had approached, with a flagon of water. She didn’t lift her eyes to meet Elisabeth’s, as if she were scared to do so, but she placed the flagon on the other side of the bars and ran off again. Elisabeth had called her thanks out to the woman, but she wasn’t sure she had been heard.

In the biggest tent, there were clearly still some people awake. As a head popped out of the tent flap, she recognized the face at this distance from the bandage alone. It was Jockie.

He seemed to be looking around, and then he stepped out and began to cross the camp. It took only a minute for Elisabeth to realize where he was heading. She backed away into the center of the cage, clutching her flagon of water, just as he reached the bars. He stopped on the other side, this time making no move to join her inside the cage.

“What do you want?” Elisabeth found her voice after a second. He said nothing, but he smiled at her, a kind of devilish smile that only raised one side of his face because of the bandage attached to his eye. “Come near me again, and I’ll scream.”

“Then next time, we’ll have to make sure ye receive yer own punishment. Rather than lettin’ Ian take it for ye.” He gripped the bars, making her knees weaken in fear.

“I said, what do you want?” she asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“I just wanted to give ye a promise,” he smiled, tilting his head to the side. “Ian willnae always be around to shield ye, Sassenach. Remember that.”

His eyes dropped down to her body. She put down her flagon and wrapped her arms across her torso, praying that she could somehow hide it from his view. He was standing there, leering at her, just as someone called his name. He looked round, back to the large tent where Laird Grier was standing outside the entrance. He was beckoning Jockie back toward him.

Jockie turned to her, offering one more smirk before he wandered away again.

Elisabeth followed his path with her eyes and saw that, as Laird Grier and Jockie talked, a guard appeared from the trees—from the direction in which Ian had disappeared earlier. He reached their side and began to talk to them. Elisabeth was too far away to hear the conversation, but whatever he had to say hadn’t surprised them very much. Laird Grier’s face set into something harsh, however, and his stare into the distance had a kind of menace.

As the three men disappeared back into the main tent, Elisabeth moved her eyes back toward the trees, praying Ian would walk through the gap any second so she could thank him for what he had done. Yet still he did not appear.

When her eyes did close eventually, she was reliving in her mind the moment that she had been forced to watch Ian be whipped.