The winter was ruthless. It was snowing en masse. The roof would have collapsed several times if Malcolm hadn't pushed down the snow. Angus crouched on the bed. He was wrapped in furs and whimpered from the cold. Malcolm came back in. He had taken care of the animals in the stable. He was pretty snowy and took off his coat, which he hung over a chair, as well as his shirt. Both was wet with snow. Malcolm took a towel and rubbed his hair dry.
"How is it outside?" Asked Angus.
"It's snowing. Damn much." Malcolm grumbled to himself, trying to warm up by the fire.
"I'm cold." Angus wailed.
"I really didn't think so." Malcolm muttered.
"Mal! It's so cold!" Angus cried.
"And what should I change about that?" Malcolm asked angrily, looking at him. "I'm not Jesus! We're in the Highlands and it's snowing!" Malcolm rubbed his hands together. "I'm sorry, Angus. I don't know why I'm in such a bad mood." Malcolm went to his brother and put a blanket over him. "Better?" Angus shook his head. "Jesus. You have now what? Five blankets and three furs?" Angus whined softly.
"I'm so cold." Malcolm reached under the covers with his hand.
"That's damn warm." He muttered and put a hand on Angus forehead. "Angus, you have a fever." Malcolm said in shock. Angus whimpered softly and pressed against his brother. "Crap. You have a fever." Malcolm jumped up and walked out of the house dressed in his kilt and boots. The cold stung his body immediately. Goosebumps gathered on his skin. He was trembling badly and ran to the vegetable patch. Malcolm fell on his knees in the snow, trembling as he tried to brush the snow aside to get to the bed. He prayed that some of the herbs had survived. He kept digging until he found some plants. "Thank God." Malcolm muttered, plucking the herbs from the frozen bed. Then he got up and walked back into the house, shaking. He closed the door behind him and quickly knelt in front of the fire. God, he was so frozen.
"What were you doing outside?" Angus asked weakly.
"H ... herbs fetched." Malcolm's teeth chattered heavily.
"Mal? Why don't we have parents?" Angus asked quietly. Malcolm turned his head and looked at him.
"How do you mean?"
"Why do we live here alone, in a hut, at the end of the world? We have no neighbors. I have no friends." He whispered the last sentence. Malcolm took Angus' hand.
"Angus. I'm your friend." Angus smiled weakly.
"Yes. You're my friend." Malcolm quickly realized that the younger one was delusional and began to cook a remedy, just as Maria had taught him. He poured the remedy into a wooden cup and slowly helped Angus up. Angus leaned against him, panting. Malcolm wanted to put the cup in his hand, but the younger was shaking badly.
"Lean your head back." Said Malcolm. Angus did. Malcolm put the rim of the cup on Angus' lips and the smaller one swallowed it all. "Now sit back and rest." Malcolm hummed as his brother lay down and he gently covered him. "Take a rest, then you'll get well again."
"Promised?" Angus whispered, giving him a weak look. Malcolm nodded quickly. "Can you lie down with me?" Angus took Malcolm's hand in his trembling.
"Angus, I have to ..." He closed his mouth when he saw his brother's pleading green eyes. "OK. I'll lie down with you." Malcolm took off his boots and lay down next to his brother. He pulled the sick boy to his chest. "Take a rest, little brother." Malcolm whispered, brushing back a few of Angus' locks. Angus snuggled up against him.
"Mal?" He asked softly.
"Mh?" Malcolm patted Angus' back.
"When I grow up, I want to be a knight." Malcolm smiled.
"Let's see what can be done there."
"Really?" Angus asked excitedly. "I'm just a farm boy." Malcolm smiled a little.
"I'm just a farm boy too, Angus. But somehow we'll become knights, okay? And we'll live in a great castle and serve our king." Angus smiled and pressed himself against Malcolm.
"Yes. We will." Angus whispered and fell asleep.
*
The years passed. Somehow the children had managed to survive. It was actually impossible, but they made it. Malcolm was now 13 years old and Angus was 11. Angus saddled the two horses they had while Malcolm was still in the house.
"Go faster, Mal! We have to go!" Angus shouted.
"Yes! I'll be right there!" Malcolm called from inside. Soon he came out with a large Scottish broadsword around his hip. It was way too big for him. It had been Maria's husband's sword. Angus looked at him in amazement.
"What do you want with that?" He asked in shock.
"If we go to town, then we have I guess we should have something with us to defend ourselves with." Malcolm grumbled as he closed the door of the hut and mounted the horse. Angus got on his own.
"Hüja Gibson!" He called and rode the horse on. Malcolm rode slowly behind him and watched with a giggle.
"It's still a long way to town, Angus!" He shouted, laughing. They rode along the small forest paths until after a long time they came to a real, small road. Angus had been to town a couple of times before, but he was too young to remember.
"I'm so excited!" Angus exclaimed happily. "The town will definitely be absolutely beautiful!"
"No. It isn't." Malcolm grumbled.
"Why not?" Angus asked, puzzled, and looked at him.
"It's all dirty. People go to the streets when they have to pee. It's disgusting." Angus looked at him in shock. "You'll see. I don't want to be there any longer than we have to." Malcolm muttered.
"Where do we get the money from?" Asked Angus.
"Maria left us an account in the bank."
"Is there such a thing?" Asked Angus with wide eyes.
"Yes. But I want us to get all the money we have from the bank so that we can have it at home. Then we go shopping for what we need and then we ride home. OK? And on the way home we still have to go hunting. We have nothing more to eat at home." Angus nodded a little. They rode on along the path.
"Hey! Get out of the way!" Someone yelled from behind them. Malcolm turned around. A carriage drove behind them. Angus looked at Malcolm. But the older one didn't move from the spot. He just kept trotting. "Are you hard of hearing! I'll hang you up!" Shouted a rich man from the carriage. He was well dressed.
"For what? Using the road?" Malcolm asked, looking at him.
"I would watch out, what I say if I were you, boy." Said a second, elegantly dressed man from the carriage.
"Why?" Malcolm asked as they rode next to the carriage.
"Don't you know who I am?" Asked the first rich man indignantly. Malcolm looked at Angus, who shrugged.
"Farmer children." Laughed a smartly dressed girl.
"We're not farmer's children!" Angus exclaimed. "We'll be knights when we grow up!" Malcolm bit his lip. He hadn't told Angus yet that it wasn't really possible because they were poor. The rich laughed at him.
"Ha! You and knights!" Laughed the man. "You can't even read, not even write!" Angus bit his lip. He really couldn't.
"Come on, Angus." Malcolm said, looking at his brother. They left the carriage and rode on. Malcolm put a hand on Angus' shoulder. "What's up? Why are you so depressed? Weren't you looking forward to the town?"
"I ... can we really not become knights?" Asked Angus, looking at him with watery eyes. "Mal, I ... all I want to do is become a knight." Malcolm smiled at him.
"I know, Ang. Somehow ... you're going to be a knight, okay?" Angus nodded sadly. "I... I promise you. I'll do everything to make you a knight."
"Thank you, Mal." Angus said softly and smiled at him. Malcolm smiled back.
*
Soon they were in town and had a lot done. They had taken all the money they had in the bank account and stowed it in the saddlebags, as well as the rest of the things they had bought.
"Look here! Can I have this?" Angus asked, pointing to something on sale at a stall as they rode back through town.
"No, Angus." Said Malcolm. It was a few seconds before Angus saw something different.
"Can I have that, Mal?" He asked excitedly. Malcolm shook his head. Angus looked sadly at his lap. "Can I have that?" Angus asked, pointing to a shirt on display at a tailor's shop. Malcolm looked at it. It was very expensive, but ... when he saw Angus' sad expression ... He sighed and took the reins from Angus' horse. Then he gave him a bag of coins.
"Here. If it fits, buy it." Angus happily jumped off his horse and ran into the shop. Malcolm stayed on his horse and waited. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. People always wanted each other's money and were not nice. Malcolm sighed. How much longer does it take? At some point, Angus walked out of the little shop happily wearing the new shirt. He held his old and dirty one in his hand, as well as two large checked fabrics. "What's that for?" Malcolm asked as Angus got back on his horse.
"My tartan skirt is cracked in some places and yours is too small. So I bought some new fabric." Malcolm bit his lip and nodded a little. Angus didn't know that Malcolm had given him almost half of their money. They rode on again. "Look!" Angus shouted, pointing to a blacksmith who made a sword.
"You don't need a sword, Angus." Malcolm said.
"You have one too! Besides, I want to be a knight!" Angus defended himself.
"I'm not going to buy you a sword." Malcolm said stubbornly. Angus glared at him as they rode on. All the way home, the smaller one didn't speak to him. Malcolm looked at him with a sigh. Angus didn't know much about money. Maria had taught him everything and so far ... well ... Angus didn't have to do much. Malcolm always got him something to eat, even if he risked his life doing it. And the smaller one was always in a warm hut. So nothing was wrong with him. Life was good for him. Malcolm found life sore, however. You had to fight to survive every day. And for what? To die someday. Pointless. Soon they got home and Angus went inside. Malcolm sighed and tended the horses before dragging the leather saddlebags into the house. Angus was sitting on the bed and playing with two small figures he had built from twigs. Malcolm sighed. Angus was still a child. He took the things out of the bags and then started a fire.
"What do you want to eat today, Ang?" Malcolm asked, looking at his brother. Angus didn't answer and pretended that Malcolm wasn't there. He kept playing with his little characters and pretending that the characters were talking. "OK. It looks like you're not hungry." Malcolm muttered and cleaned everything up. Then he sat down on one of the chairs and sighed softly. He unfolded the large plaid Angus had bought and placed it on the table. He cut the fabric in half. He put one back together, but not the second. "Come over here, Angus." Malcolm said as he clamped small needles between his lips and took the fabric in his hands and held it in the air. He looked at the smaller one, who was still playing with the characters in a huff. After a while he spat out the needles angrily and threw the fabric on the table. "You know what!? Be offended as you want! But then you can sew your stupid tartan skirt yourself! And then you can cook by yourself and take care of the animals!" With that he was out of the house. Angus watched him go. Malcolm went back to the stable angrily and saddled his horse again. He took a bow and arrows and then rode into the woods. Did Angus think he was going to get angry with him? No. If he wanted to walk around with clothes that were too small, that was his problem. Something rustled in the bush. Malcolm quietly jumped off Gretsch and inserted an arrow into his bow. Then he crept quietly along the little stream. Not a single bird chirped around him. It was dead quiet. The only sound was the soft lapping of the brook. Malcolm carefully set his feet one by one on the forest ground. Gretsch also followed him quietly. Since the horse had grown up with him, so to speak, it followed him at every step. A bird of prey flew from one tree to the next, making a rather loud noise. Malcolm immediately raised the bow, ready to fire, but quickly realized it was just a bird. He crept on quietly.
"Help." Said a low voice.