Embers in the Snow

Chapter 10 | Enemies Unknown

The sun slipped through the sliver of a crack in the tent folds. The snowstorm the night before had doused another foot of snow over the bounding hills of the highlands. Aili's hot breath warmed the crook of Ewan's neck with each slow exhale. He watched her, afraid to move lest she awaken. She looked angelic sleeping peacefully in his arms, her blonde hair shimmering as the sunlight touched it.
He had kept her warm all night and had barely slept as he waited for the snowstorm to pass. Once it had, and he knew Aili was safe, he fell into a light sleep, waking often to check on her. She moaned lightly and snuggled further into him, causing his blood to heat. His pants got tighter as his member became rigid. He cursed himself underneath his breath, wishing he had had the strength to tell her no when she pleaded with him to come along. He realized now it was a mistake.
It was wrong for him to desire her. She belonged to his brother; she would soon be married to him. Despite the fact that his brother was in love with someone else. Ewan knew Aili looked to him as a brother, had even said so herself. He forced himself to think of other things besides the scent of her hair filling his nostrils. The soft supple curves of her body pressed against his. He thought of war. He thought of his people dying. Those would surely be the outcome if he did not keep his member in check. The tightness in his pants alleviated.
Aili's eyes fluttered as she roused from her sleep. She was appalled to see herself so fully entangled in Ewan's massive wall of muscles. She pushed against his chest, sitting upright and pulling her arms tightly around herself. She groaned at herself inwardly for instantly missing his warmth. It was freezing and the highlander was a furnace.
"Let's go find your father," Ewan whispered, his voice raspy from sleep and cold. Aili nodded her head, unable to speak. She was mortified. The first time she had ever lay with a man and she woke up sprawled on top of him. The worse part was the fact that this man was to be her brother-in-law. Aili chided herself. She knew deep down she had done nothing wrong. Not intentionally, at least. What was wrong was the warm tingling she felt deep in her abdomen when she looked at him now, but especially when they touched.
The group packed up the camp within a matter of minutes and set out on their horses, now rested. Although cold from the snow and wind, also had renewed strength. They spent half a day on horseback, only stopping when necessary. Aili rode next to Jaime part of the time. Ewan rode at the front, shouting commands at the group when necessary. Aili noticed he was an excellent rider. She herself loved horses and was trained by her mother at an early age how to ride and tend to their needs. She had had to leave her favorite horse behind when she left to marry Alistaire MacDonald.
The thought of horses distracted her from wondering why Ewan had not dared to glance back at her at all. The day before he had often checked on her, making sure she was keeping up and comfortable. Perhaps she saw the kind of woman she truly was- shameful. "I'm sure your father is fine," Jaime piped up, noticing the shadows that had fallen on Aili's face. "Oh," Aili said, shaken from her thoughts. "I hope you are right," She quickly added.
She suddenly felt guilty for thinking of herself and her own flaws when her father was exposed and stuck waiting for their help. Ewan raised a closed fist into the air and Aili yanked on her reins. Her horse skidded to a stop, snow slashing up around her. Below the hill they had just ascended was a barren camp. When Aili climbed higher to see what lie below she gasped in panicked horror and wasted no time racing down the hill.
Ewan screamed after her to wait, but she did not hear him over the blood pumping in her ears and the wind swooshing past her and her horse. Below, her father's camp had been ransacked. Tents were disheveled and slashed to pieces. Arrows pierced through the armor of fallen soldiers. The wagon had been overturned and the dowry it was supposed to be carrying was gone. Frantically she began to call for her father. Aili dismounted and Ewan rode past her with his horse.
After several hours of ignoring her existence, his eyes pierced through hers. Worry stained his face. He slid down the side of his horse and immediately drew his long, sleek sword. The hilt of it was made of silver, crafted into the shape of a wolf. "Stay behind me," He barked. Aili squinted her eyes at him, silently scolding him for his tone. "Please," he reluctantly added, knowing her enough now to know she valued manners, piety and propriety above all else. She nodded her head and followed closely behind him.
Jaime passed by the pair, his sword also drawn, and whispered, "I swear you are the only female he has ever used manners with. Not even his mother could get him to say 'please.'" Ewan snarled. "Now is not the time, Jaime. Stay alert." Jaime did not respond but gave Aili a cock-eyed grin as he turned in the other direction. Ewan and Aili gradually approached the wagon, scanning the area around them for any danger as they crept along in the snow.
Aili noticed a cloak poking out on the ground from behind the wagon. She recognized that cloak. Without warning she leapt from behind Ewan's shadow and ducked behind the wagon. Ewan cursed under his breath at her impulsive and carless actions, but followed steadily behind her, sword still drawn.
Aili sobbed as she cradled her unconscious father in her arms. His head had an open gash, already clotted and blood frozen from the freezing temperatures. Ewan's heart dropped at the sight of Aili's tears being spilt. Ewan surveyed the surroundings of the camp, noting there were no tracks. The snow must have covered them in the night, area. Surmised.
Jaime approached and gave a quick report in Ewan's ear. "No others survived. Everything of value is gone." He made sure to whisper so as not to be overheard by the distraught daughter of the battered Laird. Jaime placed one of the arrows into Ewan's gloved palm.
The arrow was coated in dried blood and had been retrieved from one of the fallen MacLeod men. Ewan examined the arrow for any distinct signs of who could have done such a thing. Meanwhile, the other men in their group hoisted Aili up on her feet while one bandaged her father's head with a strip of cloth torn from their tunic. It took several of them to hoist his unconscious body on top of a horse. Jaime volunteered to ride with Laird MacLeod, despite Aili's protests to be near her father.
Ewan snapped out of his rage filled trance. He placed the arrow into his satchel then turned toward Aili. She was clearly in no condition to ride, and they needed to leave now if the laird was to have any chance at survival. She protested tearfully; her words incoherent through her sobs. Ewan grasped her by her hips and mounted her on top of his horse. With one hand he gripped her front, steadying her. With the other he handled the reins. Firmly he kicked the horse's sides, jolting them into a brisk sprint.
Ewan rode them away from the scene of carnage and the smell of already decaying corpses. His hand gripped her waist tightly, steadying her onto the horse and equally trying to steady her emotions. Aili's body immediately reacted to his touch. It was without conscious realization that she leaned her back into his chest and tilted her head on top of his shoulder. Her sobs quieted down. Ewan whispered into her ear, "I cannot promise you he will live. That is in God's hands now. I will make you this promise, though; I will do everything in my power to get revenge on whoever did this. I swear it." Aili looked over her shoulder at Ewan. His jaw was clenched. His eyes determined and steady on the trail before them. Quiet tears spilled down her cheeks as she observed him. She decided she believed him.