Scotland

Chapter 9

Angus and Malcolm carried on as before. They took care of the animals and tried to survive. Half a year passed. Angus had calmed down and accepted that they were alone again. But then came a day that was to change everything.

It had started like any other morning. Malcolm tended the animals while Angus tended the house. Suddenly they heard horses whinnying outside and both stuck their heads out the door. Outside were five men on horses. They wore orange and gray tartan skirts and looked quite sinister. They jumped off their horses and made their way to the well. Angus and Malcolm crouched inside the house and watched from under the crack in the door.

"What do we do now?" Angus whispered anxiously.

"I don't know it. We're just waiting. Maybe they didn't see us." Malcolm breathed, watching the men go into the stable. Suddenly they heard the cows screaming.

"They're killing the cows." Angus breathed, wide-eyed. "Malcolm! They're killing them!"

"Shh. Be quiet." Malcolm growled.

"We have to do something."

"No! Stay down." They continued to watch as the men laughed and killed the animals for fun. They set fire to the stable.

"Shall we burn the house down too?" Laughed one of the men, looking over at what appeared to be the leader.

"Did you hear that too? Sounded like voices to me." Said another standing near the door. With a yell, Angus stormed out the door and knocked the man to the ground. Angus had freed himself from Malcolm's arms and was running towards the men in anger.

"Angus!" Malcolm shouted angrily and ran after him. The other Scots had ruled and aimed their bows at Angus. Just as the arrow flew, Malcolm threw himself around his brother, sending them both to the ground. Angus took a startled breath and stared wide-eyed into Malcolm's. The men laughed and set fire to the house. Then the small field in front of the house.

"Let this teach you!" They yelled as they disappeared. Angus sat up and began to sob. The cattle were killed, the house was on fire. Everything they owned burned. The fields also burned.

"Mal." He sobbed, clinging to his older brother. "What do we do now?" He whimpered.

"Fucking shit." Malcolm muttered as he slowly sat up and put a hand on his back.

"Mal?" Angus whispered worriedly. His eyes widened when he saw the blood. "Mal, are you alright?"

"Fuck! I told you we were safe in the house!" Malcolm exclaimed angrily. He was breathing fast and trying to figure out where the blood was coming from, by feeling his back. Angus got up and looked at the wound. Tears ran down his cheeks as he realized the arrow was lodged in Malcolm's back. Malcolm coughed a little. Blood ran down his lips. Angus's hands were shaking violently.

"Mal? Mally?" Angus sobbed, clinging to his older brother. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry. Do not die. Please." He sobbed into Malcolm's chest. The older boy kept his eyes open and breathed shakily.

"The arrow is in my lungs." He coughed weakly.

"Shall I pull it out?" Angus whimpered, wrapping his fingers around the shaft of the arrow.

"No." Malcolm gasped. "Otherwise my lungs will fill up with even more blood."

"What should I do?" Angus sobbed. Malcolm lifted his head and looked around. A tear ran down his cheek. Everything burned. Everything they had built up.

"I don't know." Malcolm whispered.

"Why don't you know!?" Angus yelled in exasperation. "You always know everything! What should I do!?"