Taken Away (A Swept Away Saga Origins Story)

Three

The chilly morning seemed to wrap around William as he nudged the horse up the hill, away from home. It had rained in the night again, coating the earth in a wetness that seeped into everything it touched, the air's icy fingers gently caressing his skin and bringing a wave of gooseflesh in their wake. Fog hung heavily around the mountains, hiding their path from view, the dim light of sunrise just barely peeking out on the horizon.

Clearing his throat roughly, he sniffed, tugging on the reins as the horse hedged, clearly unhappy to have been woken and brought out of what little warmth the barn had offered.

"Come on then, Arth," Will urged, guiding the animal forward. "The sooner we get up there and investigate, the sooner we'll be back home and filling our bellies. It'll warm up enough once the sun is up."

Arth stared at him evenly, snorting, as if to say he wanted nothing to do with the witch on the mountain. Will couldn't blame the beast; he didn't want much to do with the woman, either. Still, someone needed to go find out why she was here and what she wanted. Da couldn't do it, not when they were trying to get the crops planned for the year. Besides, it was time Will take on some responsibilities of running the household. No one had said as much, but he could tell it was time. Maw was right—he'd be in charge of his own family soon enough. Now was as good a time as any to set out and make sure they were all safe.

Pulling his tartan around him tighter as the wind swirled slowly by, Will felt a gratefulness for the breeches Maw had patched for him a few weeks earlier, their warmth doing what they could against the elements. By the time the sun rose in full, he'd probably regret wearing them as they stifled him with heat, but, for now, they were a godsend.

Slowly, they made their way up the mountain, the sounds of early morning wrapping around them. Birds chirped overhead as the wind turned into a soft breeze, warm rays of light shining down on the open plane, grass tickling the underbelly of the horse as they passed through. The sweet smell of damp earth filled Will's nose, sending him into a comforting, relaxed state. Once again, he was at his own private communion, visiting with the earth and all she had to offer, under the watchful eyes of God and His goodness.

As they neared to boarders of the clan lands, Will slowed their pace, caution filling him. As it stood now, his own particular branch of MacDonalds lived on the mainland. They weren't like the other parts of the family, with whole islands to control and call their own. No, they lived between a wealth of other clans, always careful to watch that they didn't take what wasn't rightfully theirs. The border in the north was shared with the Camerons. To the west, the Stewarts and Macleans reigned, and on the east, the Menzies. That left the Campbells in the south, with their dangerous aggression and untrustworthiness.

Did the witch know she had settled herself in such a precarious place? The hut on the mountain had been left abandoned for a reason. Not only was it damn hard to get to, but it was literally on the border of the Campbell lands. Some had even argued that it was technically owned by the neighboring family. Should anyone decide to lay claim to it, the woman would find herself in the middle of a very distasteful situation.

Shaking his head, Will put the thoughts of the feud away. It wouldn't do him any good to be focusing on other issues when he arrived. Reaching behind him, he touched the hilt of his sword just in case, though. It was concealed beneath a wrap, tucked away with some extra food and the honey Maw had given him to bring. Most likely, he wouldn't have to use it, but it was comforting to know he had it, all the same.

Trees with newly budded leaves swayed over him now, the ground rocky in spots and covered with the roots of plants that refused to be uprooted by stone. There was still a touch of snow here and there, lingering in spots where the sun didn't touch as much. An eerie quiet permeated the space, causing his skin to ripple more than the cold had.