8 - Trouble Is All I Know

Ailsa

"Ready the hounds!" The boom of the voice hurts me ears, but I dare not cover them. It wouldn't be west. I know better than to show weakness in front of my father.

I tuck my arms in to myself to make myself smaller as men bustle past me. I need to disappear into the background, hidden from they're gaze.

They're all large, and terrifying. Mean. Glaring. Rough around the edges. Men of my clan have never looked twice at me, despite being told that I'm a rare beauty. I'm unsure whether it's because I am destined to be married off the another Laird, or if it's due to my sickness.

I'm not sure I really care all that much. The less attention I receive, the better, especially from them, I've never liked a boy in my clan.

I prefer being indescribable here anyway, that way I can sneak as much as I wish without fear of being detected.

Maybe my disease isn't all bad after all.

"Ailsa. Inside. We're leaving." I guessed that well enough, looking at the horde of horses and hounds. They're about to go fox hunting. I never like to be around for that.

"I have something for you, Father." I say bravely, using my voice to project as loudly as I can over the noise of the hunting party.

My father's round head swivels, his horse pawing the ground in agitation. The beast of an animal is ready to be ridden.

Looking at him now, I wonder how many secrets he has. Someone had to put that prisoner there, and I can guarantee it's my father.

Although he's never had a prisoner in the jails before, I have no doubt that this new man that's locked up is because of my father. He's always been superstitious and war hungry.

So he's finally done it. He's imprisoned someone.

"Alright then. Make it swift, lass." I see true beads of sweat already forming on his face, dripping down into his beard.

He's never been a skinny man, I can say that for certain. It's an odd combination with my skinny mother, I'm not sure if I should be thankful or disappointed I didn't inherit my father's solid build.

Being larger would definitely benefit me. I wouldn't have to be so afraid. I would be stronger, maybe even strong enough to fight off this sickness.

I step forward, gulping nervously as I lift the necklace in my hand chain swinging in the wind as I offer it up to the man who I'm trying to impress.

Men stop and stare as I hold my arm up, some curious to see what I'm doing.

My father stomps towards me, pace heavy. He puts his hands on his hips, eyebrow lifting as he gazes at my offering. This close I can smell his sweat, feel his breath on the top of my head.

I squirm, waiting for him to say something, but the silence seems to drag on. Even the horses and hounds hold their breath.

"Where on earth did you get that from, Ailsa?"

I shrug, pretending not to notice the wonder in his tone. Have I finally done it? Have I, Ailsa Sinclair, finally pleased the leader of the clan, the man that brought me into this world, and then regretted it later? It's been almost 18 years and this could be the moment I've always dreamed of.

"I found it on the floor of the dining hall. I saw it and I immediately knew it was yours, so I kept it for safekeeping until I saw you again."

He holds out his pudgy hand expectantly. His fingers remind me of pale, pink sausages.

I drop the cross in his hand, watching as he examines the charm, almost as if he's ensuring nothing is amiss with his precious cross.

"Good. Well, I'm off." He says simply, and my shoulders slump. That's it. That's all I worked for.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't a little 'good'.

The sky seems to immediately darken, the overcast weather leaking from my suddenly dull mood.

He slings himself onto the back of his horse, nearly toppling over the other side with his broad body teetering. Once he straightens himself, he drives his heel into the horse's side. The animal rears, turning towards the small army of men awaiting with bows and pistols at the ready.

My father looks at me over his shoulder, making eye contact as he slips the necklace over his head, tucking the chain under his unruly hair.

"Don't be getting into any trouble now, lass." He demands, voice rough. Little does he know that trouble is all I know.

He suddenly lets out a bellow and kicks his horse hard.

The fellow men of the clan join his war call, following after on their steeds, their horses hooves tearing up the beautiful grass I love so much.

I watch them disappear, mulling over what has just happened. I put so much effort in to retrieve that wretched necklace. My hopes were sky high. I could've sworn that returning my father's prized possession would change my whole life for the better, but all I got was a little word and was sent on my way.

The disappointment is crushing, and for a moment I think I'm about to have a lung attack because there's so much pressure in my chest. But no, it's just disappointment that I'm feeling.

I should be used to this feeling by now.

Feeling daring, I slowly inch my hand into my pocket, the cold, rusted key meeting my fingertips. I should have returned it the moment I finished my mission; but I didn't.

The mystery man's voice is still fresh in my mind, the draw to be near him so strong that I know I must return. It's like a powerful magnet drawing me in. As soon as I talked to that stranger, that prisoner, everything seemed to change somehow. I can't explain it.

But for the hours since I heard him, all I can think about is that voice. I've been imagining what he looks like.

Would he be tall? Short? Maybe thin or even round like my father. I shiver at the thought, I don't know why the thought upsets me, but it does.

He'll probably be handsome. I blank, not knowing where that came from.

I should be terrified of him. I should have run screaming from there.

Although I did flee, it was only part of me that wanted to depart, the other half of me was left in that basement prison with that stranger.

I go for a long walk, thinking of everything that's lodged in my brains, broiling and foaming like a kettle left too long on the stove.

My life has never really made sense, and I often wonder what my purpose is in being born. Maybe it was to see this wilderness.

As I look around at all the trees, the foliage and flowers, everything is so green it makes me wish that I never had to return to the dreadful place that I call home.

I wander and wander, taking careful steps as I walk further away from the fox hunt. I may not be covered in red fur, but I wouldn't put it past the hunters to shoot at me.

I don't fear them, the only thing I fear is the shadow that followed me through the trees.

But what I plan to do will be quick. I will be back to the castle in no time at all.

When I reach a large oak tree with broad, reaching limbs that almost touch the ground. I put my hand to the bark, walking around it and coming to the wishing well.

It's an ancient well, so old that the oldest elders in our clan have told me stories of it and it's magic. It's said to be a portal to the faerie realm. Dropping something valuable into the well is sure to bring good luck.

I kneel close to it, looking down the deep hole so dark that it swallows all the light around it.

Stretching my hand over the opening, I uncurl my fingers to reveal the key.

The key that changed my life, the key that changed everything.

My hands tremble. All I have to do is tip my arm to the side, and it'll fall to it's death.

It would be so easy to do. I could be rid of this magnetic draw once and for all.

I bite my bottom lip, knowing the faeries honor great sacrifices, but the key feels heavy, as if trying to drop it won't work. I feel like it's stuck to my palm.

Without thinking I fist my hand and pull it back, pressing it to chest for safe keeping.

I thought I could do it, maybe I'll regret it later, but I have to go back to that place. I have to know.

I'm going again, tonight, it's decided.