My Wee Mate

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.