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“Mad, he might be,” Kin whispered, “but we owe him everything.”
The boat cast off, and Alcuin rowed them out into the channel, the figure of Gilroy on the harbor wall growing ever more distant until at last he was but a dot on the horizon. The wind was in their favor, as were the currents, which swept southwards down the channel, taking them along the coast, where the cliffs rose tall and proud, and seabirds circled and squawked in the sky above. The air was fresh and salty, and the boat banked and splashed with the swell, sending up plumes of spray. Murdina sat in the bow with Murdoch, his arm around her, the two of them watching as the cliffs drifted by.
“I am worried about Freya. There is nay one there to remind her of her foolishness,” Murdina said, shaking her head at the thought of what even now her sister might be doing.
“You are more like your elder sister, like Aoife,” he said, and Murdina nodded.
“We are like chalk and cheese. Freya and Ella are… foolish children, even if their hearts are in the right places. Aoife and I were always the sensible ones. But I fear Freya will too easily be swayed by kind words and handsome looks. If he wishes to marry her, then he shall dae so. We must get there on time,” she said, and Kin nodded.
“We will make all haste,” he said, glancing back at the fisherman who was humming to himself.
“Ye are both in a hurry, it seems, but the sea is never in a hurry–it comes and goes as it pleases,” he said, smiling at them.
The journey took most of the day, and they paused at a small inlet to take refreshment when the sun was at its peak. The fisherman had with him some cooked fish wrapped in a cloth, some bread and cheese, and a bottle of ale, which he shared with them–Murdina having already made considerable payment for their journey.
“How long until we put in at Creeston?” she asked, and the fisherman pondered for a few moments.
“By nightfall, I hope, ye should be able to find an inn to spend the night. Or does yer business take ye on immediately?” he asked, as they put out to sea from the inlet, and he rowed strongly through the waves.
He was a strong and well-built man, his face weather-beaten and tanned by the sun. Murdina had taken a liking to him, though neither she nor Kin would trust him entirely with their secrets–a stranger was a stranger, however friendly.
“We shall go on immediately, aye. We make for the south,” she said, and the fisherman nodded.
“Then ye could be headed almost anywhere, for there is little left of the north beyond here,” he said, shaking his head and laughing.
Murdina made no reply, gazing south instead and wondering what would happen when they reached the Mull of Kilchurn. She knew her father would be angry, that he would offer little chance for explanation, and immediately blame Kin for her abduction. Her father’s pride would not allow him to believe she had left of her own accord, that she had done so out of spite towards him and in retaliation for his seeking for her a marriage she did not desire. But if only he would listen, he would soon realize that what she had done was for the cause of right and that she and Kin brought news that would shake the very foundations of the Jacobite cause.
“I keep remembering the strangest details,” Kin said as the afternoon drew on.
“Like what?” she asked, and he smiled.
“Like a particular bakery in London which sold the most delicious mutton pies, or a visit I paid to Bath with the fashionable ladies of the court–I was sent as a chaperone. I lived a full life in England, and all the while, it was a false one,” he said, shaking his head.
“But if it was real, it was nae false,” she replied, and he sighed and shrugged.
“It is hard to know what is real and what is not. I can hardly discern one from the other,” he said.
“This is real; all we have known together is real–surely, that counts for somethin’ does it nae?” she asked, and he smiled.
“I think it does. I know it does. I know… that what I have felt, what I feel, is real,” he said, and she smiled back at him and slipped her hand into his.
“I am glad to hear ye say that. If it were nae so, then that would be a terrible tragedy,” she replied, her heart beating faster at the prospect of what now might be.
He had told her the truth, and she had known him to be sincere in all he had done. He had made no mention of a previous love, of a woman waiting for him–even a wife. That had been her fear in days gone by, that he would remember something that brought a barrier between them. But there was no such barrier now, only the freedom to create new memories, memories that would endure.
“And you are certainly real,” he said, and he leaned forward and kissed her, the two of them quite forgetting Alcuin, who tutted and shook his head.
“Young lovers–is that why ye came to Mull? To escape from somethin’–yer father, perhaps?” he asked, and Murdina blushed.
“We came to Mull to escape, ye are right, but nae only from my father,” she replied, glancing at Kin, who smiled.
It was growing late when the fisherman called out a sighting of Creeston. Murdina could see it in the distance, some miles further down the coast. The current had carried them fast, and a journey that would have taken several days on foot was now nearly at an end. She was glad to be on her way home, glad of Kin’s company, and glad to think that soon this sorry business would be at an end. The future was uncertain, but of one thing, Murdina could be certain, and that was in the knowledge of Kin’s companionship. His loyalty was proved, and if her father could be convinced of his sincerity, then perhaps there was hope of something more.
“We are in your debt, Alcuin,” Kin said as the fisherman put into port at Creeston.
The harbor was quiet, the evening drawing in. A few fishermen were sitting mending their nets by the light of a fire kindled on the beach, but the small town showed little signs of life. Kin jumped out to tether the boat to the harbor wall, scrambling up a set of slippery steps, as Alcuin tossed him a rope.
“Tie it good and tight there, else I shall find myself swimmin’ back to Mull,” he said, laughing and shaking his head.
