Ailsa (A Medieval/Renaissance Romance)

Chapter 3

 Hope you liked the music in the last chapters ;) Enjoy, please vote; it only takes a second! And tell me what you think of the story so far! :)

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Chapter 3

Ailsa stopped, but didn't turn around to look at him. “Ailsa, sir.” Arthur gently placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. She turned, but kept her eyes on the floor. “Ye sing beautifully, lass,” he said quietly. “'Tis a shame that it's the likes of McMillan who decides when ye sing. And angel like ye should be allowed to sing whenever she pleases.” Ailsa still wouldn't look at him. “I'm no angel, sir. I'm just a servant.” He crossed his arms and looked at her, his gaze softened but still no smile. “A servant who can play the violin as well? Nay, I think there is more to ye than meets the eye, lass.”

Ailsa's eyes widened. “I know not what ye mean, sir,” she whispered. “But I do, lass, I was in the cave at the shore whilst ye played,” Arthur replied. He put a hand on her arm, seeing her fright. “Fear not, I'll not say a word. I'm guessing that the violin means a lot to ye, for ye to sneak it away and play it there.” Ailsa sighed in relief. “Thank ye, McMillan would have it destroyed if he knew I had it.”

Arthur could see the fear in her eyes, she was obviously terrified of the man. “Why do ye serve McMillan if he is so hard on ye? Are not servants allowed to find new employment if they wish?” Ailsa shook her head. “Servants may, but I am not a servant. I am his slave, and I have no rights.” He was surprised at the vehemency of her words. “I must go sir, else I'll be missed in my duties and be flogged.” She ran up the stairs before he could say anything else. Now he was really curious; how could such a talented young woman still be a slave? Any man in his right mind would free her and marry her, or at least make her his mistress and treat her well. But yet she was treated as harshly as a conquest of war would be treated. His eyes narrowed, and he determined to discover where she came from.

Returning to the hall, he sat next to his host. “Back so soon, Arthur? Couldnae stay away from the ale?” He roared with laughter. Arthur pretended to laugh. “Aye, I couldnae sleep without another draught of yer fine ale.” Angus laughed and stuffed more meat into his mouth. “So tell me, where are ye headed? Ye never did say when ye asked for shelter. And who be yer family, anyway? I like to know who me guests are.” Arthur took a swig of ale and replied. “I'm going to stay with my friends up North, the McTaggarts.” Angus stopped, his reply muffled by the shellfish he had stuffed in. “McTaggarts, eh? They're a long ways from here. Where do ye hail from then?” Arthur was getting tired of the questions, but he wanted to know more about the girl, so he humoured him. “I have no clan right now, but I hail from very far away.”

Arthur straightened and pretended to drink more ale; he didn't want to get drunk tonight and reveal more than what was necessary. However, his host seemed drunk enough to not be suspicious of his questions. “Now I have a question for ye, my fine host. “Where did ye ever find such a talented singer as the lass that sang for us tonight? Ye must have searched long and hard to find the likes of her!” Angus laughed, his mouth empty this time. “Nay, she's been living in this very castle since she was a bairn. Her da used to be Laird here, and we were enemies. 'Twas the McNeil clan. So I wiped them all out and claimed lairdship of his lands. Twas quite a job, too; her da didnae go down easy!” He laughed and Arthur pretended to laugh with him, but inside his stomach churned with disgust.

“And how long ago was yer great victory?” His host gulped down more ale, making himself even more drunk than he already was. “Aye, twas five summers ago. The lass was just bairn then and I didnae have the heart to kill her with rest, so I let her live. Now she repays my kind service by helpin' around the castle.” He leaned forward. “Although she's been more 'o a pain than a help. She ain't the most... receptive of lasses in certain ways, if ye catch me drift.” Arthur's blood boiled. He knew exactly what the bastard meant. It was not uncommon for women captured in war to become forced mistresses, but the thought of Ailsa being treated that way made him want to strangle the man. He tried to sound casual.

“So she willnae have ye, then?” Angus shook his head. “Nay, the lass hates the sight of me. She's very stubborn, I've tried locking her in her room and beating her to show her that she's better off giving in, but she'll have none of it.” Arthur suddenly got an idea into his head. “Then will ye sell the lass? I've had lots of experience dealing with stubborn lasses.” Angus raised an eyebrow. “And how would ye have done that? Were ye a soldier?” Arthur smiled. “I'm a soldier for his majesty, and I acquired a small fortune in my travels. I can pay ye handsomely for her; then ye can buy three more slaves who will do as ye please.” Angus debated in his mind for several moments, then slammed his flagon down on the table. “Done! Ye can pay me in the morning and take the lass with ye straightaway!” Arthur nodded. “Yer a good host, Angus. I'll remember ye when I see the king next and put in a good word for ye.”

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The next morning Ailsa awoke to a pail of water being dumped on her head. “Get up, ye worthless sack of grain! Gather yer things, yer leaving this place!” Ailsa stumbled to her feet as the cook stood over her, glowering. “What do ye mean? Am I to go on a trip?” The cook shook her head, armed crossed. “Nay, ye've been sod. Now get yer things and move!” Ailsa's heart stopped. Sold! But to whom? She quickly gathered her things and went downstairs. She had to get her violin; she couldn't leave without it!

Then she saw the dark-eyed man who had talked to her so strangely the night before. He was giving Angus a bag of coins. She gasped; was he her new master? What did he want with her? Arthur strode over to her, grabbing her arm roughly. “Ye are to come with me, now.” As they walked down the hall, he whispered, “Where is yer fiddle, lass?” Ailsa whispered it's location back to him.

He turned to face Angus, who looked none to pleased with his drunken deal. “I'll sweeten the pot with a few more coins if ye let the lass prepare us food for the journey.” He threw Angus several gold coins, much to Angus's delight. “Aye, take whatever ye wish! But don't tarry, I might change my mind if ye do!”

Not wanting to test Angus's threat, Arthur quickly led her to the storeroom. “Now take out yer fiddle, lass. I'll not let them harm it.” She looked at him, confused by his actions, but she obediently pulled away the stone. “I donnae know why ye are being so kind, but I thank ye,” she murmured quietly. Arthur motioned to the stores of food. “Well have plenty of time for talk later, for now we must get some supplies. We've a long journey ahead of us.”

Soon they were seated on his horse and were riding away from the only home Ailsa had ever known.