Embers in the Snow

Chapter 17 | The Spaces In Between

When Aili awoke the next day, there was a new maid in her chambers. The plump, middle- aged woman was bent over the fire, stoking it gently. A tray had been laid at the foot of the bed. The steam rising from the fresh bread and porridge wafted its way to Aili's nose. It smelled delicious. She sat up in bed, and with the heel of her palm wiped at the sleep in her eyes. "Good morrow, Mistress." The maid greeted her. "I am to be your replacement for Sofia. My name is Mary." Aili noticed Mary had the clearest blue eyes beneath blonde eyelashes. Her face was soft, with two round cheeks and a double chin. Her red hair was faded and intermingled with streaks of grey. She smiled kindly at Aili. "You're not going to plant an ill wish beneath me bed, too, are you?" Mary's eyes widened. "I never did like that girl. I cannot say I am surprised she did it, though. She always was a jealous one for Alistaire MacDonald. Your arrival did throw her into fits of anger." Mary made her way to the foot of the bed, reaching for the tray. She tsked as she placed it on Aili's lap. "Master Ewan personally requested me to attend to you. He trusted you would be in safe hands under my care. I was his mother's personal maid, you see. You need not worry for such poppy cock as ill wishes from me, Miss." Aili smiled at Mary, feeling a sense of ease settling inside of her chest. "Ewan never spoke of his mother to me. What happened to her?" Mary's soft face tightened at the question. Her footsteps scurried over to the window shutters to let in fresh air and sunlight into the room. "Child bed fever. The Laird and his sons rarely talk about it. It is too painful for them, I fear. She lost the babe as well. It was her dying wish that there be peace between the MacDonalds and Mcleods." Aili's heart clenched in her chest. "How heartbreaking," she admitted, more to herself than to Mary. "Indeed." Mary solemnly agreed. It reminded Aili of her own mother's passing. Her mother had long wanted peace between the McLeod and MacDonald clan- she died fighting for that peace in a terrible mishap. Aili's own life had almost been lost that day as well. It was the reason Aili felt such a strong sense of duty to marry Alistaire MacDonald, and then Ewan. Bringing peace between the two clans would bring meaning to her mother's death. Aili shook her head, trying to cast the forlorn thoughts from her mind. Mary quietly exited the chambers, leaving Aili to eat her breakfast in solitude. Fifty miles away, sat around a campfire, Ewan ate his breakfast as well. "Your brother should be here with us," Garrick grumbled into the misty morning air. "He was never one to miss out on a fight."  Ewan scooped a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, followed by a swig of his ale. They had ridden nonstop the day before, not stopping until the sun had sunken behind the highland hills. Garrick ran a hand through his shaggy ginger hair, before stooping down to pick up his sword. Ewan was used to his comrade spouting his opinions. The boys had grown up together, trained together, and fought many battles together. "It is too early for this Garrick." Garrick began sharpening the long blade of his sword against a stone, in long strokes. "You have been tight lipped about the whole matter. All I know is one day Alistaire is here and the next he disappears, and you are now heir. You expect us to not question that?" Ewan stood up from the log that had acted as his seat. He poured the rest of his ale into the fire. The fire roared to life for a single second, before quieting back down. Ewan turned to face his long-time friend. "I expect you to let him be." Before Garrick could offer another one of his retorts, Ewan retreated to find his horse and ready him for the long days ride ahead. God willing, they would reach McKinney lands before nightfall. Once arrived, Ewan did not know what to expect. His father was a man of diplomacy, but from Ewan's experience Aili's father was hot- tempered. He was wary of the man, and not just because of the blood feud between their clans for the last one hundred years. The men around him began to clean up the camp and do the same. Ewan's inner thighs ached from being on horse back for what seemed like endless hours. He imagined he was home and in between the soft thighs of his bride. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the blue lace ribbon that held Aili's golden curl in a tight bow. Glancing at it for a moment, before stuffing it safely back in his pocket, he mounted his steed. Garrick rode up beside him on his white and blonde steed. "I know you are hiding something from me, Ewan. I will find out the truth of the matter," he said, before trotting off.  Ewan groaned internally, mentally cursing his friend, then slapped his reins to catch up to him. It was not that he did not trust Garrick. He trusted Garrick as much as his own brother, but Ewan knew Garrick's nature. Garrick would not let Alistaire escape his duty and hide away from the world solely because he married a maid who was with his child. Ewan's loyalty to his brother is what kept his lips sealed. Truthfully, he was grateful to his brother for leaving. If Alistaire had not run off with Sofia, then Ewan never would have taken Aili as his wife. What a terrible misfortune that would have been for him, to not have her as his.