It was already evening. Maria (the old woman) and Malcolm were sitting in front of the fire in the hut. The boy was wearing only his kilt and stuck a stick into the fire. Maria smiled and held the slumbering Angus in her arms. Then, as so often, she discovered the locket hanging around Malcolm's neck and dangling in the center of his chest.
"Where did you get that from, darling?" She asked. Malcolm turned and looked at her.
"What do you mean, Maria?" Malcolm asked, puzzled.
"The necklace around your neck. It's a very beautiful and certainly expensive locket."
"That ..." Malcolm looked at the round pendant and smiled weakly. "My mom gave it to me. That should always remind me of who I really am. Whenever I wear this necklace, she's with me and helps me." The older woman smiled at the boy.
"Who are you really, Malcolm? You're not an easy country boy who's been cast out by his parents." Malcolm swallowed and looked into the crackling fire. She looked at the boy's little back because she was sitting on a chair at the table.
"I'm Prince Malcolm Mitchell Young." Malcolm said quietly. "And this is my brother. Prince Angus McKinnon Young." He pointed at Angus. Maria's eyes widened. "We were banished from home because there is now a new king who is afraid that we might take our throne back." A tear ran down his cheek. "I didn't care about the throne. I just wanted to stay with Mom." Maria smiled weakly, got up and sat down on the fur, on the floor on which Malcolm was also sitting. She caressed his bare shoulder.
"I know, darling. Sometimes things happen in life that we don't want. But we can't change the past. What you can actually change is your future, Malcolm." Malcolm smiled a little, turned and looked down at Angus, who was now crawling between the two of them. Angus had learned to crawl pretty quickly and now he was just everywhere. On the table, on the floor, in front of the fire. You always had to keep an eye on him. Angus crawled over to his brother and raised his hands. Malcolm giggled and lifted him in his arms. Angus grinned at him with a tooth. Malcolm tickled Angus' stomach. Angus giggled.
"Malolm." Malcolm stopped and looked at Maria with wide eyes. Maria smiled and brushed a few small curls from Angus' face.
"Did he just ..."
"Malolm!" Angus exclaimed unhappily, looking at his brother almost a little angrily. Malcolm giggled and looked down at him.
"What's the matter, Angus? Mh? Do you need something?"
"Malolm." Angus whispered, brushing the wet tear from Malcolm's cheek. Malcolm froze. Angus was a baby! He couldn't possibly understand what this was about! Angus snuggled into the fabric of Malcolm's tartan skirt and played with the locket on Malcolm's chest. Malcolm smiled a little and held him to himself.
"I love you." Malcolm whispered softly, hugging the boy. Maria watched smiling.
*
It was summer now and Maria was teaching Malcolm as much as she could. Malcolm was out in the yard tending the pigs when he heard a loud squeak. He turned around and saw Maria coming out the door with Angus in her arms. She carefully set Angus down on the grass a meter from Malcolm's feet, then took his hands. She helped him slowly to stand up.
"Come on, Angus. Show him what you showed me." Maria grinned. Angus took a clumsy step. His eyes lit up and he looked up at Malcolm, giggling. Malcolm smiled. Tears ran down his cheeks. He put aside the bucket he was holding in his hand. Angus took another step. Malcolm opened his arms.
"Come to me, Angus. Come on." He smiled. Angus gurgled excitedly.
"Malolm!" He shrieked as he took another shaky step. Malcolm and Maria grinned at each other. Maria held the little boy's hands.
"Let go of him, Maria." Malcolm said with a smile. Maria let go of Angus' hands. Angus stood shakily on his little legs. "Come to me, Angus." Malcolm clapped his hands twice, then held them out to his brother.
"Malolm!" Angus squeaked happily as he took two clumsy steps towards his brother and then almost fell. But Malcolm caught him and picked him up.
"You ran, Angus!" Malcolm exclaimed happily. Maria smiled.
"Malolm!" Angus grinned.
"Yes. I saw it, Angus. You did so well." Malcolm beamed and tapped Angus' nose. The boy giggled.
*
Angus and Malcolm both grew pretty well and learned a lot. But as the time wanted, Maria died. She was too old. She was weak in bed. There was only one bed in the house. Malcolm sat in front of her and held her hand. Angus lay next to her.
"You mustn't die." Malcolm cried. She smiled.
"I'm old, Malcolm. At some point we all die." She coughed. "You're already 9 years old, Malcolm. You have to take care of your brother, okay? Promise me." Malcolm nodded quickly.
"I promise." Angus, the four year old, cried a little.
"You mustn't leave us." He whispered.
"You can do it on your own." She muttered, feeling her vision fade. "I love you." With that she closed her eyes and stopped breathing. Angus started crying and screaming loudly. Malcolm suddenly let go of Maria's hand, turned and walked out of the house. Outside he sat down at the table they had there and tried to slow his breathing. At some point Angus came out of the hut.
"She's dead, Mal." Angus cried and went to his brother.
"I know, Ang." Malcolm whispered, pulling him close. "But she'll continue to live."
"Where?" Angus sniffed.
"Here." Malcolm tapped Angus' heart.
*
"Go faster, Angus!" Malcolm called. It was autumn and the second year the boys were on their own. So far it had gone pretty well. Sometimes they were close to the crisis, but all in all, it wasn't going bad for a seven and a five year old. Malcolm was standing outside chopping wood. It would snow soon and they didn't have much wood yet. Angus carried the chopped wood into the cabin and piled it there in the small attic.
"I can't anymore. I want a break." Angus wailed as he wiped his hands on his sweater. Malcolm had learned to knit and knitted him a sweater for the winter. The sweater wasn't very nice, but it was quite warm.
"You can have a break later! We have to get this done!" Malcolm exclaimed as he chopped off another piece of wood and wiped his hair aside. They were almost shoulder length now, just as he wanted them to be. Angus had wild, light brown curls that stood on all sides.
"But I can't go on!" Angus continued to moan. Malcolm rolled his eyes. Whenever there was work, Angus shirked. Angus stood next to his brother.
"Would you rather chop wood and I'll stack it?" Malcolm asked. Angus nodded. Malcolm handed him the ax and then brought the wood to the attic. Angus put a new piece of wood on the stump they were using to chop and raised the ax in the air. Damn! It was heavy! He could hardly hold it up! Why did it look so easy with Malcolm? He dropped the ax and shrieked. Since the ax was too heavy, it had slipped out of his hand and he had cut his hand. Tears began to run down Angus' cheeks.
"Mal!" He shouted. Malcolm came out of the little house.
"What happened?"
"I cut myself!" Angus whined.
"Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph." Malcolm muttered, walking up to him to look at Angus' hand. "How did you do this? Mh?"
"The ax was so heavy and ... and ... and it slipped out of my hand." Angus cried.
"Sh. Stop crying. Everything will be fine." Malcolm hummed and wiped the tears from his cheeks.
"It hurts." Angus whimpered.
"I know. Come on." Malcolm led him to the well, tossed a bucket in it, and then picked it up again. Malcolm gently washed the wound with the cold water.
"That hurts!" Angus wailed and wanted to pull his hand away. Malcolm looked at him angrily.
"You're a fucking crybaby, you know that? A girl doesn't cry as much as you do!" Malcolm shouted angrily, washing the wound. Angus bit his lip to keep from whimpering. "Now go into the hut and get dinner ready. When I'm done chopping wood, I'll sew up your hand." Angus nodded and went into the house. There he set some food on the table. Malcolm chopped the wood and then carried it to the attic. When it was dark he was finally done. He let himself fall on the chair in front of the table and sighed exhausted. Angus sat on the bed that they had to share since there was only one and whined softly. Malcolm smeared himself some bread and took a bite. Angus whined softly in the background. The only other sound was the crackling of the fire. "So help me God! When I hear another sound from you, Angus! It's your own fault if you can't even chop wood!" Malcolm shouted angrily, looking at his brother. Angus sighed softly, turned and looked at the wall. He whimpered to himself. Malcolm couldn't help but grin. "God. Come here." Malcolm muttered. Angus got up and went to Malcolm. The older one took him in his arms and comforted him. Angus was sitting on Malcolm's lap. "Show me. Does it hurt a lot?" Angus held out his injured hand and nodded, whimpering. Malcolm looked at the cut. He went to a wooden box and got a needle and thread. He sewed the cut and then cleaned it up a little with water. Then he put herbs on it and wrapped a thin bandage around it. "Now it will heal again, okay?"
"Thanks." Angus whispered. Malcolm smiled.
"Eat something and then go to bed. You worked hard today." Angus also made a sandwich and then undressed to go to bed. Malcolm had sewn Angus a new tartan skirt because, logically, the little one he had had as a baby no longer suited him. Malcolm had one too. But they no longer had the colors of their actual clan, because ... they didn't belong to anyone. They were on their own. Malcolm cleared the table and then placed a bucket of water on it. He undressed until he was only wearing his tartan skirt and washed himself off. Angus watched him. When Malcolm finished, he lay down to his brother and pulled the blanket and furs over himself and Angus. Angus played with the locket around Malcolm's neck.
"Where did you get that, Mal?" Asked Angus, looking at him.
"Somebody gave it to me." Malcolm said, looking at the ceiling. The fire crackled in the fireplace.
"Who gave it to you? It's very nice. The patterns are beautiful. That's a clan sign, isn't it?"
"It doesn't matter, Ang. Now go to sleep. You're exhausted."
"But I want to know. What is it?" Angus wailed.
"It reminds me of a task I haven't done yet." Malcolm muttered. "And I'll fulfill it when I'm ready."
"May I help you?" Asked Angus. Malcolm smiled and brushed a few curls off his face.
"Sleep, Angus." Angus pressed his head to Malcolm's chest, looked at the locket on Malcolm's chest, and fell asleep.