“You lied to me,” I said finally, stopping in front of the fire. I kept my back to him. “You said you died at Culloden.”
He was quiet for a long moment. Too long. I turned, and for once, he wasn’t smirking. He looked—what was it? Embarrassed? No, something deeper. Regret.
“Aye,” he said, barely above a mutter. “I lied.”
I folded my arms. “About what?”
Ewan shifted uncomfortably, running a hand over the back of his neck. “’Bout the whole lot. Culloden... the fight, how it all played out.”
I stared at him, waiting.
Ewan sighed heavily. “We got our orders that night, the night before the battle. It was cold. Cold enough ye could feel it in yer bones, and the sky... och, the sky was hangin’ heavy, like even it kent whit was comin’.” He paused, his gaze far away as though he were seeing something long buried.
He ran a hand over his face and continued. “We all sat roond the fire, me an’ the lads. The bravest men ye could ever ask tae fight by yer side. They tried tae joke, tried tae laugh like it was just another day, but there was nae denyin’ it—we all kent we were walkin’ intae doom. Prince Charlie? He had our loyalty, aye, but we kent he had nae chance. The English were ready, better armed, better fed, better prepared. But none o’ that mattered. We were Highlanders—men who’d die for our clans, for our country, an’ fer our prince.”
He paused, his voice growing quieter. “But really, it wasnae the prince we were fightin’ for. It was the ones we left behind. The women, the bairns... Our wives, our mothers, sisters. Like Elspeth. Aye, that’s what kept us there, starin’ down the English, ready tae die. We’d fight fer them.”
His expression softened, and for the briefest moment, he looked almost human again, as if he were remembering something far too personal to share.
“That night, as we sat waitin’,” he murmured, “I pulled out the brooch Elspeth had given me. It was small, ye ken? Ye’ve seen it, Darcy. Just a wee thing, silver and polished up nice, but... it was hers. She’d given it tae me the night before I left, made me promise I’d come back. That I’d find my way back tae her, no matter what happened on that battlefield.”
He swallowed hard, his voice thickening. “I kissed it, held it in my hand like it was the last thing I’d ever touch from her. I made a vow that night. Swore tae it. Swore I’d come back tae her, dead or alive. Thought I’d be a right hero, ye ken? Thought I’d die like the others, and my name would be spoken wi’ honor, and maybe Elspeth would remember me as some gallant fool.”
Ewan’s fists clenched slightly, his knuckles whitening as the memory seemed to tighten its hold on him. “We sat there, makin’ grand plans—how we’d storm the enemy, how we’d take as many o’ them doon with us as we could. We kent we were walkin’ intae death, but none o’ us cared. What mattered was how we died, aye? Die wi’ honor, wi’ pride. Die wi’ yer sword swingin’, die fer yer clan. That was the dream.”
Ewan’s voice cracked just slightly as he continued. “I looked ‘round at the lads. Every one o’ them had someone they were fightin’ for—some lass they’d left behind, some family waitin’ on them tae come home. That’s what we told ourselves, what we held onto. We werenae fightin’ for Charlie, not really. We were fightin’ for the folk at home. The folk that needed us.”
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “But then... then I saw it. Saw the redcoats marchin’. Slipped away from the camp, just a bit, tae get a look over the hill. An’ what I saw... the sheer size o’ them, their weapons glintin’ in the moonlight... It was like starin’ at the end o’ the world, lad. I kent, right there, that none o’ us would see the mornin’. That every one o’ us was marchin’ tae a slaughter. An’ somethin’ broke in me that night. I dinnae ken what it was, but somethin’ snapped. I’d promised her I’d come back, alive or dead, but I couldnae keep that promise. I couldnae die wi’ the rest o’ them.”
He swallowed hard, his voice now barely above a whisper. “Ran like a coward. Abandoned my clan, my brothers. Left them tae die. An’ I’ve regretted it every day since.”
He dropped his head into his hands, his entire body slumped in a posture of defeat. “I should’ve died wi’ them. Should’ve died wi’ honor. Instead, I lived wi’ shame. Hid from the world. Hid from her. Elspeth... she deserved better.”
His voice broke on the last word, and for the first time, I saw the weight of that promise—how it had clung to him even after death. He wasn’t just a ghost tied to some worthless brooch. He was a man bound by his own cowardice.
He stopped, his breathing ragged, like just telling the story was pulling him back to that night.
“And you ran,” I finished.
“Aye,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I ran. My legs took me before my brain caught up. Ran ‘til my feet bled, ‘til my lungs gave out. Didn’t even know where I was goin’. Just away.”
“And when you stopped?”
“I went down, slept where I dropped. When I woke, it was done. The fight, my clan—everythin’. Should’ve died that day, lad, same as my brothers. But... I wasnae there.”
The words hung heavy in the room. This wasn’t just about a lie to cover up his cowardice—cowardice!As if any rational manwould not quake in his boots at that. But this was about the life he had lost—the honor he could never reclaim.
“And Elspeth?” I asked, my voice catching.
Ewan’s face twisted, and he clenched his fists at his sides. “She... she waited for me. Thought I was comin’ back tae her. Thought I was dead. And when I didnae come back… they said she… she drowned hersel’. Threw hersel’ off the rocks, into the loch.”
The room seemed to spin for a moment, and I had to grip the back of a chair to steady myself. “She… drowned herself?”
“Aye,” Ewan whispered. “She reckoned I’d be there waitin’ for her in Heaven. Thought I’d be there, ready an’ all.”
I closed my eyes. Egad, this was no ordinary ghost story. This was a tragedy, one that had consumed one life and left another trapped in the wreckage.
“But why lie about it?” I could hardly find it in me to be angry anymore. I was just… lost. “What do you think I care about a battle that was fought forty years before I was born? Why not tell the truth?”
