My Wee Mate

1 - Ailsa Sinclair

Bending next to the creek, I pluck a small bundle of wildflowers growing along the gurgling water. The clear spring water floods over the gray and black stones. I create a small bouquet of purple heather, the tiny flowers smiling at me through the sunshine.

"Ailsa!" The echo of my name being called out makes me jump. I hate hearing it. It's usually said with annoyance. I am always the burden of my clan.

The Laird's daughter. Delicate little flower. Can't even breathe correctly.

"Here." I respond, barely loud enough to be heard over the whittling wind that tickles my eyelashes and makes my skirts swish around my skinny, pale ankles.

Gentry, my maid, pants as she trots into the field, hands on her hips. She's a tall woman, and thickly built. She's nearly as muscular as the men of the clan. Her eyes rake over me head to toe, assessing me after my absence clearly frightened her.

"No shoes. No shawl. I swear you are trying to kill me, lass." She says in a frustrated, jumbled mess of words.

I innocently place my hands behind my back, twiddling the bit of wildflowers pinched between my fingers. I've always known that Gentry would rather be fighting with the men than watching after me. She's always chased after me, ever since I was a little girl. She's also always looked out for me.

Smiling, I guiltily shrug my shoulders.

Sighing heavily, Gentry stomps to me, throwing a heavy arm over my shoulder. I lean into her warm bulk, finding it comforting. She turns me back to the castle, marching me through the trees and towards the main entrance.

"You act as though you mean to make me daft. You do recall that I have been charged with your protection, lass, that is no minor thing, you see?" She rambles, practically carrying me up a small hill as we pass the stables. I roll my eyes and smile knowingly at her berating. It's something I am used to by now.

"What would happen if something were to happen to you, way out there on your own? What would be done to save you if no one knew where you were?"

I sigh, reaching for my vial of smelling salts and waving them at her.

"I came prepared, see?" I ask, grinning in triumph as I shake the glass, the little granules of salt bouncing off the sides. I tap the cork with the tip of my pointer finger.

Looking up at Gentry, I see she is not smiling, not even close. In fact, she's glowering at me. Her thin, straight mouth points down in the corners, showing her clear dismay.

"What?" I demand.

"Your ailment isn't the only thing to fear, lass. There are creatures in these woods."

It's my turn to be frustrated. I ground my teeth and look away, facing forward as each step comes and goes.

"I tire of old, silly tales. They are created to put fear into children."

"They are told to keep you safe. Being afraid is what keeps us alive." Gentry scolds, ducking as her tall frame almost manages to get her eye poked out by a stray branch covered with green leaves.

I kick a pebble, watching it bounce on the thick roots protruding from the soil.

"I am not afraid. Death will come early for me one way or another, and still, when I face death I will do so bravely." I vow. This proclamation does not please my maid. She takes a long while to respond, the only sound to be heard is the rustling of the trees and our determined footsteps.

"I don't like to speak of such things." She says, tone clipped, sniffing slightly.

"Death is a part of life."

"You are 17. You know little about life. There is much to learn, and I'm here to ensure you have the time to learn it. So," She smiles softly. "enough of this."

I quiet down as we near the castle walls, the great big buildings stacked with dark brick and dirt roads. This whole argument between us was simply started by her fears, and the clan's fears, of bloodthirsty monsters. Monsters, we're told, that look like men but feed on real humans for sustenance. It is a folktale, ridiculous. It's told to wee children to keep them from leaving their beds at night.

There is no reason for me to put any stock in such tales.

Walking through the keep, I keep my head low to avoid the eyes of my clan, but it does me no good. Anyone could spot Gentry and I, we are quite the pair. Her, with her height and cold demeanor, me with my long, wild hair the color of the sun.

Yes, we did tend to draw the gazes of my people. They watch me carefully. Their gazes are heavy, and I'm glad that I won't break under their eyes like some of them expect.

Gentry stops at the foot of the curved stairs that lead up to my room, she motions to it with a tip of her head.

"After you, my lady." I take each step up with my head hung low. My bare feet touch each cold stone stair. I shiver. I should've worn shoes, but there's just something about feeling the fresh green blades of grass between my toes.

Chewing the inside of my lip, I whirl around before Gentry can follow me.

"You're not going to tell my mother about this, are you?"

She narrows her eyes, knowing full well that I'm more afraid of my mother passing it on to my father. He's not an easy man to please. Although it's easy to anger him, I try to avoid it at all costs.

"I suppose not, if you're on your best behavior for the rest of the day."

Grinning, I throw my arms around her for a quick hug before ascending the stairs to get dressed before breakfast.