Page 57 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph
“Aye,” Edward said, tightening the blood-soaked makeshift bandage around his arm, “and the worst part of it is that, under English law, he will have every right to raise men against us. He’ll nae have to ask permission from his higher-ups to attack, if his own daughter has been taken hostage.”
“But, I––”
“That’s what he’ll say, Sassenach,” snapped Edward.
Charlotte grimaced. She knew he was right. Her father would not rest until the MacQuarries were crushed and she was yoked to him yet again.
She looked up, over Edward’s broad shoulder, as she felt the horse crest the top of the hill it had been galloping up.
There, ahead of them, sitting squat and heavy on the top of an unapproachable bluff, was a huge castle.
“Is that your home?” Charlotte asked.
“Aye,” Edward replied, “that there is MacQuarrie Castle.”
“It’s…” Charlotte searched for the words she was after, “very imposing.”
Edward grunted a laugh. “Aye, it might nae be a pretty fairytale sort o’ place as ye might have been expectin’, but it was nae built to look fine against the skyline.”
“What was it built for?” Charlotte asked in awe, looking at the towers, walls, and crenellations.
“To be defended, to be strong,” Edward said. “To endure.”
They sped across the countryside, pushing the horse as far and as fast as Edward dared. The land was becoming more and more time by the mile. Here and there were the rustic huts of sheep-herders, drystone walls, and other signs of civilization.
“Have you any ideas as to how we can stop my father doing what we both seem to think he will do?” Charlotte asked, when Cogar’s pace had slowed enough to allow conversation. The castle was only a mile or so distant.
“Aye,” said Edward slowly. His voice was getting a little weaker, and Charlotte hoped fervently that he could make it to the castle gates. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it, and it occurs to me that there is only one way by which we could stop yer faither, really.”
“And what is it?” Charlotte asked, giving Edward a slight squeeze around his middle.
“Ye may laugh at the thought, Sassenach––or weep,” Edward replied.
“Come, tell me. It can’t be anymore mad or unexpected than anything else that has happened since we crossed the border,” Charlotte said.
It was yet another example of how little she knew of the world.
“Well, currently, ye are still, basically, yer faither’s property, do ye see?” Edward said, as Cogar skirted a stretch of cut-log fencing. “To his eyes, and in his mind, it will be as if the MacQuarrie clan has stolen a prize horse from him. Legally, he’ll have every right to come after us and wrest back his property.”
“Unless?” Charlotte prodded.
“Unless,” Edward said, “ye are nae longerhisproperty…”
Charlotte frowned, her pale blue eyes veiled in doubt. “But, that would mean…You can’t possibly mean…”
“Aye,” Edward said, and Charlotte saw him give his head a little shake, “marriage, Sassenach.”
The only sound, for a long few moments, was the noise of the horse’s hooves thudding rhythmically across the springy turf.
Charlotte was brought back to herself by the sound of someone calling out. Looking up, she descried a man dressed in a tartan belted plaid––an ensemble that Charlotte recognized instantly from reports and stories, though she had only seen it herself a handful of times. The man stood on a low hill, not far from them, holding a long stick and walking casually after a small flock of horned sheep.
Edward raised his hand in answer to the man’s call, though he did not call out in return, as Cogar flashed past.
It will not be long now before I am either taken in or taken prisoner by a Highland clan. We must have some sort of plan to tell them.
“Your suggestion may have sounded ludicrous to me only a few days ago,” Charlotte said in Edward’s ear, “but speak of it to me now. Hurry! The castle approaches it and it would be best if both our tales were to align.”
Edward, Charlotte could see, was swaying a little in the saddle. When he spoke, it was thickly, as if he had imbibed too much ale.
