My Wee Mate

49 - Retribution Has Arrived

Ailsa

     When the day of my execution arrives, I start pacing the floor before the bars. I can't see in the dark, but I can feel the impeding into doom of my soon to be death as it creeps in like a shadow.

     Gentry tries to get me to sit, even going so far as to grab my arm to try to tug me down, but I shake her off and laugh like a mad woman.

     "He'll be here, any moment and he'll be here. I know it." I insist, back to pacing, touching either wall before turning and walking back the other way.

     My maid gives up, going so silent until the only noise is my feet sliding against dirt and the dripping of water from the ceiling. A familiar sound, a comforting sound.

     The hours pass all too quickly, and I know I'm running out of time.

      "Where is he!? He should've been here by now." I say aloud, swinging around to pose the question to the outside of our prison. I press a dirty hand to my sweat slicked forehead.

     "Oh, lass..." I know that tone, that pitting, sad tone that tells me exactly what Gentry is thinking.

      She's thinking of her own story, the way her love left her and never returned. She's thinking that the story has been retold in my own life, and that the ending will be more tragic than anyone could've guessed.

     Most of all she's thinking my trust was misplaced, and I will die because Fraser chose to abandon me.

     Did he? Did he purposefully leave me here? Did he care if I lived or died?

    "No." I moan as an unbearable ache erupts in my lower belly. I shake my head, shoving my hand out for support as I lean against the wall for support before I collapse in agony. "No, no. He loves me. He wouldn't... he just wouldn't..."

     I don't get to finish my sentence, although I'm not sure I even had the strength to. The door to the dungeons swings open and I woodenly stalk backwards as several torches wielded by stern men surround us.

     Neither of us says a word as our hands are bound and we're led away from the rotting underbelly of the clan grounds.

     The man dragging me yanks harshly, and I wince as my arms twinge from the movement.

     "Don't try to fight it, lass, or I'll make your last minutes more painful than they have to be." His promise is met with answering chuckles from the rest of the guards.

     Gentry is behind me as we walk the long walk to our deaths, and tears spill down my cheeks as I hate myself. This is all my fault. My only real friend in this whole world, and she will die because of my mistakes.

     It's not fair. I learned long ago that life is not fair, that it's a simple game of chance and I will likely always be let down.

      I had just thought that Fraser was the exception.

     We're dragged through the courtyard, past the kitchens, down a long, winding path that leads to a large field filled with people. Their faces are gleaming with the last light of the day, the pink streams from the sun cascading across the highlands. The sunset turns the clouds a vibrant orange. The hills seem to glow with the power of it. The world pulses under my feet as I realize this is the last thing I will see, the beauty of the earth.

     At least I'll have that.

     The crowd parts as we get closer, the bearer we get the more I can see through the tangle of bodies. There are two stakes in the ground, the bottom littered with stacks of hay.