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“Why dae ye speak in such a foolish way? I know who ye are, and I have waited a long time for yer arrival,” the man replied.
Kin was growing angry now. He was tired of all this mystery and secrecy. He wanted to know the truth, and he stepped forward, pointing his sword at the man who now removed the hood of his cloak. It was difficult to tell his features in the darkness, but he had a beard, and his head was balding. He was an old man and now beckoned them to follow him.
“Who are you?” Kin demanded.
“Ye will see–ye will remember, for I can only think ye have suffered some terrible forgetfulness,” the man said, shaking his head.
“There was a shipwreck, I… I lost my memory,” Kin said.
He felt strangely disarmed in the presence of this stranger, a man, it seemed, who was not really a stranger at all. He tried desperately to remember something that might help him. Some detail with which the rest might make sense. But still, his mind was blank, and he cursed himself, even as his curiosity got the better of him.
“I have been waiting for ye. I knew ye would come. But ye are late, and there is much to dae. Each day I kept watch for ye. But ye were to come alone. What is this nonsense about takin’ a wife? Who is this woman?” the man asked, and before Kin could answer, Murdina had stepped forward.
“My name is Murdina McFadden, daughter of Andrew McFadden, laird on the Mull of Kilchurn. I am nae Kin’s wife, though he greatly honors me in claimin’ so. Nay, I am his companion on the journey, and where he goes, I go, too. We shall nae be separated, and what ye say to him ye may say to me or nae at all,” she said.
Her words brought a lump to Kin’s throat, and he had to try hard to disguise the emotion in his voice. His feelings for Murdina were growing stronger by the day. She had proved her loyalty to him and trusted him, even when others did not. Now, she stood next to him, her sword drawn, pointing it at the man, who appeared somewhat disarmed by the force of her words.
“Very well, follow me,” he said, beckoning them forward.
“Not before we know your name,” Kin replied, trying to assert some authority over the proceedings, even as he grew ever more confused.
“Ye know my name–or dae yer claim to have forgotten that, too?” the man asked.
“I have forgotten everything. I know nothing of who I was or my purpose. I have but moments of clarity, that is all,” Kin replied.
There was the image of the fire, the memory of his name, his strong feelings for the cause of the Jacobites. Clues here and there. Then there was the key and the coin. Pieces of a puzzle yet to be resolved.
“Then my name will nae matter to ye. But ye can trust me, Kin, I am a friend,” the man said, but Kin shook his head.
“I will not trust you. Neither of us will. But we will come with you. It seems we cannot find the answers we seek without doing so,” he said, turning to Murdina, who nodded.
“Caution, Kin,” she whispered, and together they followed the man from the standing stones and across the heathers…
