Page 6 of Wolf Heir
“Aye, for just a little bit,” Alasdair promised his da.
Then the three boys raced off to the woods, and once concealed by the undergrowth, they stripped off their clothes and shifted. Like Coinneach, Alasdair and he were of a similar build, muscular, with brown hair and eyes. Tamhas was blond, his eyes blue like those of their da and mother.
Coinneach always thought that when they looked at their reflections in the lake, he was different from the rest of his fair-haired family. Just as he was unable to shift when Tamhas had, as if something was wrong with him, though he had believed his mother was right in saying that he would change when the time was right.
For now, though, Coinneach was eager to show Alasdair the nearby waterfall. He led the way, with Alasdair following behind him. Tamhas was right on his heels on the narrow path.
Within minutes, they reached the falls. The waterfall hurled itself into the gorge with a violence that left the air quivering. Water raced down the cliff face in reckless competition, slamming into the mossy piles of stone heaped at the river’s edge.
Spray leapt sideways, painting the bracken in beads of silver, so that every fern seemed to sway under the weight and blessing of the deluge. The roar of it—alive and ceaseless—drowned out the calls of songbirds and the brittle snap of twigs as animals skirted the sodden margin of the pool below.
Mist crept outward, cooling the ground and coating even distant leaves with a glassy shimmer. The sky above, a slate-gray, pressed heavily on the scene, its chill filtering through the dense canopy and settling deep into the bones of the place.
Here, time was counted in cycles of falling water, the endless resumption and renewal, each drop a promise to batter the earth until it yielded and became something new.
Alasdair just stared in awe. Coinneach was glad he could share the spectacular sight.
They drank their fill at the river and then headed back. But then Alasdair tackled Coinneach and Tamhas, and they retaliated in good-natured fun. Coinneach and Tamhas excelled at wolf fighting, as much practice as they’d had with each other.
Coinneach pinned Alasdair down so many times, he was afraid Alasdair might take offense. But Coinneach couldn’t help himself. He wanted to prove he was good at something.
Then Tamhas glanced at Alasdair, and the two of them tackled Coinneach simultaneously, struggling even so to take him down. He loved it.
Someone yelled that it was time to eat, and they raced to their clothes, shifted, and dressed.
“I canna tell you how much fun I had here today. I will insist my da visit Chief Hamish more often, when before I was never interested in going.”
Coinneach and his brother smiled. “We would be much pleased,” Coinneach said. “Why did your brothers and sister no’ come too?”
“My da is trying to teach me to be a good leader of men for when the time comes, when I will take over the pack.”
That made Coinneach think that he and Tamhas were special indeed to befriend an upcoming clan chief. Though it didn’t mean they would see him again. But his visit would always be something Coinneach would cherish.
They ate their fill as Chief Daire explained how Coinneach and Tamhas’s da and mother had saved him when he was gravely wounded in battle.
“Your da killed the Highlander who tried to kill me,” Daire said. “And your mother nursed me back to health. I am beholden to them.”
Coinneach couldn’t believe it. How did his da kill a Highlander when he didn’t even own a sword? And his mother, he knew, was good at taking care of injuries, though she never wanted to work at the castle and would rather be on the farm with her family. They’d never mentioned saving a chief’s life.
Daire continued. “Here I was lying on my back with a wound in my side and on my sword arm, and I knew the villain was going to kill me with one more slice of his sword. But then your da was there, pitchfork in hand, and stabbing him in the neck. He pulled the pitchfork free, and the man collapsed on my legs. Your mother and da had a time pulling me out from under the brigand. My men and I had become separated, and it took them a few days before they found me.”
Coinneach glanced at his da.
“I told you that you dinna need a sword to take a big man down.”
Coinneach smiled. His da had said that for years when Coinneach had complained about not having a real sword, and he would never have believed it.
For years, Alasdair would return to see Coinneach and Tamhas, bringing wooden swords to share with them, ride, and play as wolves, always visiting the waterfall.
But when they saw Alasdair arrive at the croft this time, he had more of a guard force than ever. His uncle, serving as his da, wasn’t with Alasdair, and Alasdair looked beleaguered.
Alasdair dismounted from his horse and embraced Tamhas and then Coinneach. “My uncle was killed in battle, and I’ve taken over the clan.”
1
Coinneach was busy planting barley and oats near his family's croft when he noticed two women approaching with a small cart loaded with herbs and food, making their way toward Middleborough Castle. One woman seemed to be in her forties, and the other appeared to be in her twenties.
He guessed they were mother and daughter. Both women, with their striking red hair, watched him as he toiled in the field, his chest uncovered and his plaid resting low on his hips as he moved through the soil.
