The calm but bustling streets of Dunvegan were suddenly disturbed as Gawen MacLeod burst through the main street, sword in hand, sprinting as if his life depended on escaping. His faded yellow MacLeod tartan plaid slumped over his left shoulder and wrapped around his waist just covering his knees. He pushed past and through the crowd, causing people to drop baskets of their daily catch.
His chaser close behind him, a young woman, Isla Beaton. Her long wavy red hair like a stream of fire behind her. She wore an old tattered brown dress, that looked like it had been handed down for generations. In her right hand a shorter, but still deadly sword.
Isla pushed her way past the recovering shoppers and fishermen, desperately grabbing at their wares. She was hot on Gawen's tail, their leather pattens beating on the compacted dirt path like sticks on tight leather drum.
They turned quickly off of the main street and down a path, closing on the shoreline. Gawen jumped over a rough wooden fence and changed direction, down a steep grassy hill closer to the shore. Isla followed over the fence, clumsily ripping the hem of her dress slightly, but still she remained close behind Gawen.
They managed to reach a long wide rickety wooden pier. Fishermen lined either side unloading lobster pots and stitching fishing nets. Gawen got to the end, Isla stopped just behind him. He turned to her; sword clenched in his fist, but Isla was too quick for him. The tip of her short sword poking into his Adams apple.
Gawen slowly raised his hands and dropped his sword, staring with terror into Isla's eyes. He glanced down, noticing his new advantage. Isla was stood on a fishing net, big mistake. Gawen smirked, momentarily confusing Isla until it was too late.
He looped his foot through one of the holes in the fishing net and fell backwards taking Isla with him...... THUD...
Gawen landed on his back in the footwell of a small wooden rowing boat. Isla tumbling on top of him, dropping her sword in the confusion. But she was quick to react. Pushing herself up and unsheathing her Sgian Dubh from her ankle and putting it to Gawen's throat.
But alas he was even quicker.
They lay there. Daggers at each other's throats. Their hearts racing.
But Gawen smiled. Isla too. Then a childish giggle followed by the removal of the daggers.
"I almost had ye" Isla says in a soft sweet highland accent.
"Aye, but you're still not quite quick enough" Gawen returns.
They stared into each other's eyes, hers pine green and his a dark cyan. Isla tucked Gawen's long but braided, dark blond hair behind his ear as her copper red hair fell to be around his face almost creating a tunnel between them.
Isla chuckled and leant in to kiss him, he gently kissed her back before a gruff sea hardened voice yelled at them.
"Ay, Get the hell out've ma boat before you rip the damn net or put a hole in it!"
Isla and Gawen jump out of the boat, apologising to the rough fisherman but giggling like the love birds that they really were.
They then began to make their way back down the pier to Dunvegan, Hand in hand and shoulder to shoulder. Playfully giggling and pushing each other like children in love.
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The sun was beginning to set as they sat on the dew speckled heath watching over their beautiful town while the townspeople shut up shop for the night and the smoke began to rise from the chimneys of the black houses signalling that the mothers had begun to cook the daily stew for their families.
YOU ARE READING
Clandom: The Bloody Moor
FantasiaA few chapters of the novel that I am currently writing. It's based in medieval Scotland and is about the Clans fighting for the throne, shrouded with myths and legends brought to life and heavily inspired by true events, places, people and battles...
