Under Skye’s tutelage, Ailis learned even more about medicinal herbs, pain-relieving pressure points, and healing incantations. She observed Skye’s effortless grace, as each touch provided relief.
One afternoon, a cry interrupted the training field’s commotion. Lachlan emerged with a bloodied arm injured from errant steel. His eyes met hers—annoyed with himself for the injury yet embarrassed at the way she hovered over him.
“It’s just a scratch,” he insisted. The surrounding redness indicated otherwise.
“Skye should tend to it,” Ailis urged. Despite wanting to help him herself, she knew Skye had more wisdom in healing, and she longed to become more skilled herself.
Skye approached and began treating the wound using water as clear as a loch and a pine-scented poultice. Ailis absorbed each careful step. She had a feeling she would need every ounce of healing skills she could gain.
“Ye’ll recover soon enough,” Skye assured him after securing the bandage. “But be more mindful during training.”
Lachlan smiled at Ailis. “With such skilled healers around me, how could I not?” His words eased the worry that had tightened around her heart.
“Come now,” Ailis urged, her voice light but firm. “We have a duty to heal and protect. Let’s prepare for what lies ahead.”
They nodded in agreement, understanding the responsibility they carried. As they faced the encroaching night, their devotion to their people, each other, and their homeland remained unyielding.
*
The November chillhad settled upon the McAfee lands with a frosty embrace, seeping into the very bones of the people and the earth alike. Ailis watched as men from various clans, their breaths misting in the cold air, labored side by side to erect the garrison that would shield them from winter’s cruel embrace. It was a structure born of necessity, each log and stone placed with the urgency that the encroaching frost demanded.
“Ye work as if the very devil were after ye,” Ailis remarked to a group of men securing the roof.
“’Tis not the devil, me lady,” one of the men called, pausing to wipe his brow, “but Winter herself. She is a most unforgiving mistress.”
Ailis offered a nod of acknowledgment, lingering on the sinew and sweat that bound the men in their common purpose. It filled her with a sense of pride and heavy responsibility that her home could be a bastion for so many.
Later, Lachlan found Ailis near the loch’s edge. With a tender hand upon her shoulder, he coaxed her away from the fortress.
“Come, me heart,” he crooned, his blue eyes reflecting the water’s tranquility. “Let us steal a moment for ourselves.”
Hand in hand, they strolled around the loch, the water lapping gently at the shore like a whispered conversation between old friends. Their steps were leisurely, allowing the world and its burdens to fade into the background.
Lachlan broke their comfortable silence. “Imagine a time when this land knows naught but peace, where our children may roam freely, unburdened by the clang of swords and the cries of war.”
Ailis’s heart swelled at the vision he painted, her own wishes mingling with his. She leaned into him, feeling the solid warmth of his arm as it wrapped around her. “Aye, that is a dream worthfighting for,” she murmured, her breath forming a cloud in the chill air.
They stopped to watch the sky, now streaked with purples and pinks as day surrendered to night. In that quiet moment, Lachlan turned to her, cradling her face with a gentleness that contradicted his warrior’s strength. His lips met hers in a kiss that spoke of promise and hope, a tender seal upon their shared dreams.
“Wherever the future leads us, we’ll face it together,” he vowed, his forehead resting against hers.
“And with ye as me guide,” Ailis added, her green eyes gleaming with the last light of dusk. “We shall weather any storm.”
As they entered the keep, Ailis chilled. The great hall was alive with murmurs and laughter, contrasting the somber mood that had settled upon her. She was a newlywed, and she dearly loved her husband, but the threat of impending battle became closer and closer each day, and her mood was suffering.
“Gather ’round, me dear ones!” Fiona’s voice rang out like a bell, drawing the clan members closer to her by the warm hearth. Her eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar light, and their curiosity was piqued. “As ye all know, the McAfee blood flows strong in our veins,” Fiona began, a proud smile on her face. “And I am thrilled to announce that our family will soon welcome another into our fold. I am with child.”
Gasps of surprise and cheers of joy erupted from the kinfolk as they surrounded Fiona, congratulating her and showering her with affection. Ailis couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy as she forced a smile onto her face and joined in the celebrations.
She longed for a child of her own, but it was her sister who carried the next potential laird of Clan McAfee. As much as she loved Fiona, Ailis couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if she were the one expecting a child.
Later, seated beside Lachlan at the feast, Ailis’s hand rested lightly on his arm but found no solace now. Her thoughts were tangled with jealousy she dared not confess. She so desperately wanted to be happy for her sister, but she was caught in a sadness that would not seem to leave her.
“Are ye well, me love?” Lachlan questioned with concern. He could tell something was bothering her, and he wanted to help if he could.
“Aye,” she lied, gazing at Fiona. “I am merely…overwhelmed by the tidings.”
“I think it is wonderful she is expecting. The McAfee line will carry on with this child.” Lachlan smiled. “We will be hopeful that our turn will come soon.”
