Highlander's Kiss

Chapter 3: Gavin

The men rode throughout the day and set up camp that night. The small group had prepared for the trek across the highlands, and their food supplies were filling and satisfying.

As Gavin finished up his seared fish, Barron sat down in the grass next to him. Their campfire's embers pulsated, almost inviting Gavin to sleep. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he turned to Barron.

Gavin sighed heavily. "I canae believe we have to do this... I was just out here in the highlands."

"Aye, with that fiery lass," Barron said thoughtfully. He sighed a bit and shifted his weight.

"I wish I could have brought her with us — but I donae know what the King is plannin' — I canae risk her like that. Not anymore."

"Not anymore? Ye were fine with risking her when she was a commoner, aye?"

Gavin stared at Barron and shook his head. "No — that's..."

"Admit it, Gav, that's what it is. As soon as ye found out about her blood ye started worrying about her."

The Laird looked back to the embers, staring into them. He felt his heart race, he knew Barron was right.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Treat her like ye did before."

"Before..."

Gavin looked up into the sky and watched the stars. The clouds had a dark blue tint to them and the moon shined eagerly. He thought of the starry and exceptionally chilly nights he had spent with Elyn out on the highlands. The first moment he met her, naked and chilled to the bone from the rain. He chuckled.

"Let us get some rest, Barron."

"Aye."

Barron stood up and paced back to his tent. Gavin waited for Barron's boots to stop crunching the grass before he looked at his own tent. It would be a cold and lonely night tonight, not like before. He steeled his mind and snuffed out the fire, killing it with a couple scoopfuls of dirt.

***

Gavin awoke in the night with a jolt. He sat up quickly, the fur blankets falling off of him and exposing his sweaty body to the unexpectedly frigid air. He stared through the darkness of his tent and tried to catch his breath. Something was wrong. He knew it, but not what or why.

Gavin climbed out of his tent and searched around the camp for any signs of wildlife. Maybe it was an animal that disrupted his sleep. After finding nothing, he returned to the extinguished campfire and stared at it.

He felt anxious, and the only thing he could think of was Elyn. It was something much stronger than homesickness though. After catching his breath, he left the dead fire and returned to his tent, climbing back under the furs and dozing again.

He didn't want to worry his men.

***

The next day the men packed up their encampment and headed back down the trail to Castle Iverlochy. The morning ride went smooth enough, but Gavin couldn't shake the tightness in his chest.

Gavin felt uneasy. It wasn't a familiar or comforting sensation, like a pit was stuck in his throat. He found himself constantly looking over his shoulder to his comrades, but wasn't sure why.

"Gavin, what is it? Ye lookin' fer someone?" Barron said, his voice as boisterous and friendly as ever. An undercurrent of concern was in his tone.

"I donae know myself," Gavin said. "I feel like something is amiss... like this isn't right."

"Yer damn right it isn't right. The King calling his Laird to punish him for treason — it's ridiculous."