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‘See to his wounds Ailsa.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because he has asked for you,’ he said before rushing off to organise the others.
Duncan was slumped on the settle by the fireplace, his elbows on his knees, hands and head hanging down towards the floor. Ailsa knelt on the floor before him and set down the bowl of water and cloth to clean his wounds.
‘It would seem the Sinclairs have some fight in them yet,’ he said.
‘Are you badly hurt?’ she asked in an unsteady voice, soaking the cloth and wringing it out with trembling hands.
‘No I’m weary is all. It’s just a couple of scratches, the worst is here,’ he said touching his temple gingerly.
He winced as Ailsa started to gently wipe away the black blood encrusted in his hair, revealing a deep cut to the scalp. ‘What did this?’
‘The tip of a claymore. One more inch and I would be a corpse.’
‘Well thank god you are not.’ The words came out before she could stop them and earned her a sharp look from Duncan. She swallowed hard. ‘This thicket of hair probably saved you.’
‘What’s this Ailsa, have you begun to care for me a little, forgiven my many sins against you? Would you miss me if I were gone? Would you cry and place flowers on my grave?’
‘No I would dance on it as you well know, now hush and hold still for I must attend to this wound.’
‘Talking distracts me from the pain.’ He grimaced as she continued to clean the wound, scrape, scrape, scrape, softening the congealed blood so that it ran down his face in a pink stream. ‘That hurts,’ he snarled as she delved deep into the wound to remove all the dirt so it would not fester.
‘It serves you right for fighting. Has there not been enough trouble already, must you Campbells go looking for it?’
‘I did not choose this fight I was merely sent to win it.’
‘So you attack like a dog at your master’s command.’
Duncan straightened his back and grabbed her wrist in a dirty hand, his jaw clenched. ‘I protect my clan as you do yours. I’ll make no apology for it.’
‘I do not kill for mine,’ she said, pulling away.
‘You would if you had to, I have no doubt about that. I don’t take pride in killing like the Sinclairs.’
‘Nor should you.’
‘So I am a monster in your eyes then? You think that I want people to shrink from me, for your clansmen to dread my very name? Do you think I want to see fear and loathing in your eyes when you look at me? That is the last thing I want.’
‘And yet you can kill so easily.’
‘It’s not easy Ailsa. When you kill a man you have to look in his eyes as your sword crunches through muscle and bone, see his flesh burst open as your musket ball hit its mark. But you do it. Stop to think about what is right or wrong and you are a dead man. But afterwards you feel it, over and over, and those corpses walk in your nightmares for years to come. So no, I do not do it easily but anyone who threatens me or mine – yes I will kill them if I have to.’
Duncan drew his breath in through his teeth as Ailsa scraped harder at his wound but he did not complain and they fell silent for some time. Ailsa could feel his stormy eyes on her and she tensed as if someone had taken a shard of ice and traced it down the back of her neck. She did not want to touch him and dare not look at his face. Bitter words had tainted the air between them and the silence that followed felt suffocating so Ailsa resolved to break it.
‘Have you never wanted a more peaceful life without fighting?’ she asked softly so as not to anger him.
‘I have been fighting since I was but a boy, it is in my blood.’
‘Why so young?’
‘I had no choice. I was orphaned when I was seven and went to live with my uncle. We didn’t get along very well and when I was old enough and had a belly full of his rules I stole a horse and left. Eventually, I found my way south, crossed the sea and ended up as a mercenary. I found ways to survive to manhood, I learned to fight and so in time, I became this heartless killer you see before you.’
‘So you are content with being a brute.’
‘Aye, I am, though maybe not such a terrible one as you would think. Make no mistake Ailsa, I am a hard man and I have had little time to acquire courtly ways and fine manners. It is unlikely I will soften to gain your good opinion for there has long been a black hole where my heart should be.’ Her hand faltered and she risked a glance at him. What she saw on his face caused her heartbeat to thud in her ears.
