Hello there everyone! I've wanted to write a story like this for a while, especially now that I'm back in bonny Scotland! As the story continues, you will realize that things won't always be historical correct. I didn't want to write a repeat of history, i wanted to use it and turn it into something new! I really do hope you enjoy it. Please read and review, I haven't got any reviews at all in all of my stories, and it's really discouring, good or bad! I'm giving writing on here one more shot, and if I don't get any feedback, then I'm done /
Let me know what you think! Sorry the first chapter is so short!
My father and brother never returned from their meeting with the English. My heart-broken sister-in-law took my nephew and left the village, heading back home to the southern clans that had better relations with the English border. The men of the our village held a council, deciding if war with the English would be for better or worse. My father was once their leader, and my brother his right-hand man, losing them was only a brief view of what was to come. For the English army was already marching it's way into the highlands, preparing for the next attack.
I could hear my name being called, through the clashing of swords and the screams of woman and children, I could hear my name being called. I tried to see through the mist of blood and sweat, dodging the bodies falling round me as my people fell prey to the English. There, Alistair was there, kicking an English off the edge of his blade and onto the ground. I ran towards him, looking straight at him, running through the pools of blood as if they were the rain puddles I was so accustomed too.
Alistair tucked me into the crook of his arm, crouching down behind one of the remaining shelters as he passed a letter to me.
"Take this to the Drummond clan, they need warned of this attack, for they will be next! Go Sileas, do not fail me, or your people!"
I grasped at the letter, unwilling to let it escape my clutches. My hands were sweaty and my heart was pounding, I knew I was the only one that could do this task. Alistair's black war horse was standing between the trees at the forests edge. Saddled and packed with a few basic supplies, including a blanket and some water. There was no time to gather food, I would have to ride without it. The beast remained still as I attempted to climb onto it's back, failing miserably as it was 3 times my height. I placed my foot on the stir up one last time, and the horse fell to it's knees, dropping low enough for me to throw my leg over and balance on the saddle. I leaned into it's neck, whispering a small prayer beneath my breath as it started riding, already knowing it's destination.