Chattan Bride

Chapter 1 - Part 3

It was a few minutes before dawn when Isabel awoke shivering a little. One of the soldiers watched her as she rose and moved to clean up before their journey continued. She liked to have her quiet time before everyone was up. She would be prepared for the flurry of activity. Alysandir had one hand on her ankle for reasons beyond her, but when she shook him off he woke instantly.

"Are you alright, are you too cold?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine, go back to sleep." She would say this every morning to her sister and it felt like a nice perpetuation of a tradition. Isabel didn't stick around to find out if he got up or not and when she came back to the clearing everyone was up and breakfasting. Isabel went to her mount not wanting to interrupt the men in their conversation. She spoke to her mount gently and then felt a nudge at the small of her back. Turning, she realized it was Alysandir's stallion asking for attention, which she then generously gave. He was a beautiful horse, black and powerful, his muscles tensing before he threw back his head. Calming him with coos and deliberate massaging, she wished she could mount him and would have if she hadn't been told to leave him alone.

"Look at Lady Isabel," Dylan nodded to his laird. "I've never seen anyone that could get near your horse before. The girl knows how to calm him, he even sought her out."

"I told her not to go near him," Alysandir said as he stood and made his way to her. He watched her move back to her own mare when she saw him approach. He was about to raise his voice to her when she stepped out from behind the horses and smiled at him so sincerely.

"May I mount him, Alysandir?" Was it her eyes or her smile that won him over like a child one cannot refuse?

"Come here," he conceded. He lifted her easily and could tell she neither needed nor wanted his assistance. "Are you afraid?"

She laughed outright, loving the restless movements the stallion made as if he was now ready to run loose. And if her excitement was contagious, he would begin to do so. Alysandir held the reigns close to the bit when she beamed down at him and said: "I am not afraid." She patted the horse's side gently and looked out aching to squeeze her legs together and urge him into a gallop. "You had better order me off of him before I am a speck in the distance shouting: 'Race you home.'"

Alysandir laughed. "You are so light I think Rampage barely notices you on him. Off with you, now. Go have some breakfast, child. We will leave in a few minutes."

Dylan gave her some breakfast but she took it back to her mare and packed it away. She hummed a little song and would have begun its chorus lustily if soldiers whose respect she had to earn didn't surround her. "She needs to be coaxed into eating each meal, it appears," Dylan said to his laird.

"It shows how nervous she really is. Still, she is wiser than her years and it is to be remembered that she is just a child."

"As awkward as she appears to be now, it can be seen that she will be breathtaking when she grows older," Dylan offered.

It was cold comfort to Alysandir now, however. But he nodded and kept those thoughts to himself. After all, he had a mistress who would care for his needs. His father's promiscuity resulted in half a dozen bastard brothers for Alysandir to defeat before he could rightfully claim his position as clan leader. He was the only one who had earned it, but that never stopped a usurper before and would not in the future. The lesson he learned was to guard his seed and such must be the case for a few more years before Isabel could give him an heir. Aye, it was harder to enjoy life that way, but it would not do for him to behave otherwise. These thoughts and the resolving of the MacPhail and Davidson dilemma consumed his thoughts for the entire day's journey. They rode much harder since they were on friendly land and the weather had cleared considerably.