The High Road

'The wee birdies sing and the wildflowers spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleeping,
But the broken heart it kens nae second spring again,
Though the waeful may cease frae their grieving.'
​

____Standing on a mountain pass overlooking the small village far below, Alasdair Lachlan blinked through damp eyes, despite the fact that the early-morning mist didn't reach that far up the slopes. He could barely see the outlines of the fields and structures, but he knew them all by heart and even the barest hint of them was enough to create a surge of bittersweet longing and nostalgia, followed by a stab of fear. After today, he could hold on to hope no longer; either he would have no need of it or it would be dashed against the rocks like the wreckage of a fishing boat he'd seen after a storm as a boy. But the magnetic tug of need was too powerful even for his fear, and he felt his steps move down the path almost unbidden. Even if there was only grief and pain waiting for him down there, he was going home.
____There were a couple times when his journey down the mountain threatened to become quicker than he wanted, even for the young man nearly as sure-footed as the geep he herded, as the earthen road and stones were still slick with lingering ice and snow-thaw. Truthfully, he admitted, it would have been wiser to wait a little longer before beginning his journey—winter was longer this far north than in Regalia—but having spent seven springs in exile, he was not prepared to wait for an eighth. Delicate, hanging snowdrops and aromatic heather lined the path and the chirp of birdsong sounded in the grey air as the world slowly spun into life after the long night and longer winter. But although the warming weather still had the power to warm his heart, Alasdair felt barren and cold, as familiar a feeling as that of air in his lungs.
____It was late morning when he finally reached the bottom of the glen. Much of the village was deserted, as most of its inhabitants worked in the fields and pastures, but voices raised in speech and song told of those remaining who worked in the homes and shops. Even so, he took the long way around the village to reach his destination nearer the fields, casting only a wistful glance in its direction before continuing on. Gods willing, he would be able to enjoy the village's warmth and community again soon, but there was repentance to be done first.
____When he reached the small but tidy cottage, he noticed with some amusement that the stone fence still needed repairing, or else had fallen in the same place it inexplicably always had. But his reverie quickly faded as he reached the door, and all words fled from his mind. What was he going to say to them? What could he say? Exhaling his pent-up breath in a huff, he whirled away and paced outside, biting his lip and rubbing his neck as he tried to fashion some sort of speech, some kind of apology that would atone for causing his family to think their firstborn dead on a battlefield for seven painful years. After a few agonising minutes, he returned to the threshold and, taking a deep breath, raised a shaking hand to knock.
____Silence. He knocked again, but heard nothing. Panic fluttering in his chest, Alasdair pushed the door open and stuck his head through, calling out.
____"Hello? Is anyone here? Katie, are you home?"
____There was still no answer, but the neat room and crackling fire reassured him that people did still live there, so he stepped through and continued his search, heading through the house toward the back garden. Before he got there, a voice nearby captured his attention, and he turned towards a child of about two years, who stood in a rough crib,sucking on her thumb and staring up at him with large, curious eyes. A warm smile crinkled around his eyes, and Alasdair immediately knelt down to be at eye-level with the child, gently pulling her hand from her mouth and drying it with his sleeve as he spoke softly in the slightly-elevated pitch one uses when speaking to babies.
____"Well hello, wee one. What's your name? Do I've another wee sister, or has my sister become a mother herself now? I don't think Colm is old enough, although…" His eyes widened for a moment as he counted on his knuckles, then shook his head. "You could belong to Colm, he'd be eighteen by now. Ma wasn't much older herself when…"
____His words ended with a grunt as he was struck in the back with something heavy and flat, causing him to catch himself against the wall to keep from falling towards the crib. Alarmed, he reached for his blackthorn quarterstaff leaning against the wall and raised it into a defensive stance as he stood protectively before the child. His attacker swung at him again, this time towards his head, and he had just enough time to notice that the weapon was an old shovel before raising the staff to block the attack and twist it away from him. As he did so, he came face-to-face with his assailant, and he registered a soft face creased by age and weather, framed by wispy strands of cinnamon-brown hair streaked with grey, and a pair of blue-grey eyes wide with fright, eyes that were just a shade darker than his own. Immediately, he lowered his weapon and stepped back, his apologies and speeches once again forgotten as he whispered only one word.
____"Ma…"
____The woman had quickly pulled the shovel away for another strike, but she froze as he spoke. Moira squinted at him suspiciously, apparently trying to match the familiar voice to the strange face, but didn't lower her rough weapon. Alasdair moved first, leaning his staff back against the wall and holding his hands out, palms up, as he continued to speak quietly, the words spilling over quickly as he fought back welling joy and sorrow.
____"Ma, it's me… It's okay, don't be afraid… It's Al…"
____Moira hesitated for another moment, then her face paled as she spoke in a whisper, taking a fearful step towards the crib and making the same gesture against evil that Alasdair had often made himself.
____"Gods and Spirit preserve us…"
____He stepped aside to allow his mother to rush to the child and snatch her up into her arms, holding her close to her chest as she backed away from him. Confusion furrowed Alasdair's brows for a moment, then realisation dawned. Still speaking softly, he shook his head.
____"I know why you're afraid, but I'm not dead. Look…"
____Slowly, he reached down and produced an iron dirk, laying the metal against his palm as he extended his fingers to show that he didn't flinch away from it. A spark of hope showed in her eyes, but she still didn't move, so he tried another approach. Holding the hilt out towards her, he gestured for her to take it.
____"Look at it. It's Granda's, you can see his mark carved there on the end. Would an evil spirit still be able to carry an earthly weapon, especially one of iron? Take my hands, feel my pulse. I'm not from the other world, I'm not dead… I'm home."
____Still shaking, Moira reached out to take the dagger and examined it closely before laying it aside, though still within arm's reach, then took his wrist in her work-rough hand and felt the steady beat of his heart. Tears streamed from her eyes as she raised her free hand to his face, gently brushing away his own tears with her thumb before wrapping her strong arm around him and hugging him close.
____"Alasdair, my son… I… I knew you would come back. Somehow, I knew you were alive… But…" She pulled back and furrowed her brow, shaking her head. "When the men came back without you, everyone said you were dead. But if you weren't… why didn't you come home to us?"
____Alasdair grimaced and rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head as his voice croaked.
____"I know, and I'm so, so, so sorry… I know you have a lot of questions, but… Da and Katie and Colm will have them as well, and I don't want to have to explain it all twice."
____He looked towards the child, who had lost interest in the adults and was squirming to be let down, and reached out a hand to brush the dark-brown fuzz on her head with a weak chuckle.
____"But that shouldn't keep you from telling me of all I've missed. And it seems I've missed a lot. Is this bonnie girl Katie's? I thought I'd find her working here with you, but was surprised to find neither of you. Is she helping Eilidh with the bakery today?"
____Pain twisted Moira's face as she forced a smile.
____"She is, her name's Margaret. But Katie, she…"
____She trailed off, but one look into his mother's eyes told Alasdair all he needed to know. Briefly dumbstruck, it was his turn to hold her close for a few moments before finally finding his voice again.
____"I'm so sorry… When?"
____Moira rubbed her eyes quickly, looking embarrassed.
____"Ahh, it wasn't just her, so. Many people lost loved ones last winter; it happens every year… The cough, it was, and fever. Margaret was spared, thankfully, but Graeme was heartbroken… They'd only been married for three years, you see. He's taken over the cobbler's shop now that Angus is gone, so I take Margaret during the day so he doesn't have to worry about her and so I can enjoy the company. Usually, I'd bring her with me to get the water—that's where I was before you came—but she's getting so heavy, and the cold aches my back so. Oh, and Duncan and Mirren Knox—Mirren Mackenzie, you remember, the lass with the green eyes—just got married. I saw her in the village just now, and do you know, she said that..."
____The light had returned to her eyes as she began to share all the little details of local life with him, since they both knew that his father had little interest in such talk. Without breaking her flow of thought, both settled into the daily chores with familiar ease, Alasdair only occasionally interrupting to make a comment or ask a question as they worked together as though not a single day had passed. And for a while, he felt more at peace than he had been for years, save for an unspoken creeping dread as the sun slid down towards the horizon.

____Kneeling on the chilled earth, Alasdair laid a handful of snowdrops—Katie's favorite flower—before the stone cairn piled over the remains of his sister. He stayed there in silence for a while, shock still keeping the tears at bay, trying to imagine what the girl he'd left would be like as a woman today. She'd be more serious now, he thought, having a child of her own to look after, but even added responsibilities wouldn't be able to weigh down the joyful laughter or dull the mischievous spark in her eyes that had been both the delight and despair of many a young suitor. He wondered how much of her would be in Maragret—he was never much good at recognising features in babies, however many others declared that they looked like this parent ot the other—and whether she would ever look into a still pool for a glimpse of her mother's face. Would Katie have been pleased to see him if she had been here? He thought she would be, even if their father had refused to let him come inside—they always had been each other's closest ally. But he had left them all, and although he could try to make things right with his parents and brother, he had no such opportunity with his sister. Would she have been able to forgive him? He wasn't certain. Slowly, the silent tears came, glinting in the evening sun as his shoulders shook.
____"I'm so sorry, Katie… Even if I cannot meet you there, I hope you walk in Sgàtantalla… Please, if you can..."
____"You can come in now."
____Alasdair froze in his communion, fear grabbing his heart for a moment as he briefly thought it was a voice of the dead speaking to him. But it wasn't his sister's lilt, marred only by a slight speech impediment, but the voice of an unfamiliar man. Ears burning, he quickly dried his face on his sleeve and stood, attempting a pleasant smile as he greeted the stranger.
____"I'm sorry, I think you must be looking for someo—"
____"I'm not. Da said you can come in now, he'll hear what you've to say."
____Recognition dawned on Alasdair's features as he matched the man's voice to his face—gaunt and lean with Iain's dark brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and bright blue eyes, but the smaller nose and rounded chin of his mother. He stared speechless for a moment, struggling to reconcile his memories of the rambunctious ten-year-old he remembered with the somber man standing before him, then managed an incredulous chuckle halfway between a laugh and a croak before stepping forward with his arms outstretched to embrace his brother.
____"Colm! I… didn't recognise you, you—"
____But the man stepped back, holding his arms close to his body as he regarded Alasdair with neutral, wary eyes. For a moment, Alasdair felt hurt by this, but he then relented with a sigh. He had been gone for nearly half of Colm's life, more than half of his memory, after causing him much grief and pressure and now was showing up to greet him scarcely announced. It was understandable that the young man would look at him like a stranger. He attempted to chat with him on the way back to the cottage, trying to make up for lost time and to distract himself from the anxiety that increased with each step they took, but he quickly found that Colm had grown into their father's taciturn nature, so he gave up before they reached the fences.
____As they approached, Alasdair began to run through the speeches and apologies he'd crafted before with even greater urgency, as he knew that he would be needing them. He had been allowed to come make his explanations, which was something at least, but if his father was not satisfied with them, he would have to begin the long journey back alone, leaving his family again with only one living child. Hope had haunted and sustained him for these seven years and would soon be shattered or confirmed on the decision of one man. He gulped a few times, trying to soothe his dry throat, then took a deep breath, raised his chin, and opened the door.
____Iain was sitting in his customary place by the fire as Moira continued putting away the evening meal—she had suggested that they wait until after Iain had eaten and rested to bring up Alasdair's appearance, giving Alasdair something to eat before he left earlier that evening—and Alasdair had a sudden feeling of being a child having to own up to some mischief. The room was silent as he entered the room, everyone tensing as they listened and watched for what would happen next. For a moment, it seemed that neither of the men would speak, then they both spoke at once.
____"So, you've come ho—"
____"Da, I can expla—"
____They both froze, staring at each other in confusion, then Iain began to chuckle dryly.
____"Still the smooth-talker, I see. Well, I agreed to hear you out, and amn't I a man of my word? If you can explain, then do so. Why have you abandoned your family, only to come traipsing back here now?"
____Alasdair winced at the edge in his father's voice, but couldn't hold any anger against him. Believing him dead but with no body to recover, they must have had many sleepless nights, wondering if the creaks and moans of the night were their son returned to haunt them, and as painful as it must have been, the passing years would have finally brought some measure of closure. And here he was, proving it to have all been for nothing. He looked to the ground, heart pounding, and spoke quickly to get his tale over with as quickly as possible.
____As often as he had run through the events in his head and even put them down in written confessions, the memories never became easier to describe and Alasdair had to stop a number of times to pace about and breathe deeply to fend off the crushing grief and suffocating panic. Once or twice, Moira reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, but each time he recoiled away with a start and was eventually left to tense and relax with his breathing until his mind cleared enough to continue on. Finally, the bloody battle came to an end, leaving Alasdair leaning with his elbows against his knees as he sat across from his father, and his words came more easily, although his voice still choked.
____"After I'd buried Daniel, I didn't know where else to go… I knew that I had been a coward, a deserter with the blood of my dearth-brother on my hands, and didn't want to sully your reputation with my dishonor. I thought that it would have been better for everyone involved if I had died there, and so I… decided to make it happen. I couldn't make it actually happen—I knew I would be damned if I did—but I could make it seem to happen, so you and Ma wouldn't have a coward son and so Katie and Colm wouldn't have a murderer for a brother. It was a… a terrible battle, I knew that not all the bodies would be identified, so… I allowed Alasdair Douglas to die there and took the name of the disinheirited instead before fleeing Gallovia. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do, but I hoped that… that one day I might be able to come home again when I had regained the honor to be worthy of our… your good name. And I hope… that I have."
____Sitting across from Alasdair's animated and emotional speech, the stoic and reserved older man more closely resembled a pensive statue than one living, but finally he straightened from where he had been resting his chin behind steepled fingers and asked simply,
____"And what is it that you are doing now?"
____Relief flooded Alasdair's heart at the words, for if he was going to be sent away, surely it would have been after his previous confession, and a tearful smile spread across his face as he began to eagerly explain.
____"I travelled for a long time doing odd jobs here and there, but I arrived in the City of Regalia last Summer. It is a… complicated and overwhelming place, but I got steady work there." He straightened up, a look of warmth and pride shining in his eyes as he declared, "I was summoned to the Gallovian Royal Court to serve House Howlester tending to their animals. I've been serving them since and have been well honored for my work, though to serve them is honor enough, as they are just and generous people, which is why I came to see you now." He glanced around the room at his parents and brother, the hardship of winter showing on their faces, then continued carefully to avoid damaging his father's pride. "I'm not a wealthy man, but… I do have a comfortable place to live and a bit of coin to use otherwise. I believe I could find you all a good place to live in the city where the winters are shorter and labor less back-breaking. I know it's not—"
____"No."
____"Da, please, just cons—"
____Iain stood from his chair, blue eyes burning under bushy, greying brows.
____"I said no! We may be poor, but we needn't beg. How old do you think I am? I've still many strong years left, and when I finally don't, I know that Colm will be here for his family!" Grimacing at Alasdair's pained look, Iain turned aside and rubbed his neck, breathing through gritted teeth as he visibly struggled to rein in his temper. "It is… generous of you to offer. And I suppose, in its own way, it is tempting. But we're too old for such things. Our ancestors' tombs call to us, and I've no intention of dying anywhere but here on my native soil. But… if Moira or Colm wish to go, I will not stand in their way."
____Colm spoke first, shaking his head emphatically.
____"I've a life here already. I'm not leaving it behind to trek off to the city of the foreigners."
____Alasdair nodded, feeling a bit guilty that he was relieved at not having to make the long journey back with the distant young man, and looked to his mother. She looked between the three for a moment, hesitating, then shook her head with a heavy sigh.
____"It is very good of you, but… I have to agree with Iain. From what you've told me of the city, I don't think it would suit us very well. But, perhaps… we could come to visit you sometimes, and you could come home to us."
____There was a moment of silence as her statement hung in the air, her steady eyes meeting Iain's without wavering or defiance as they waited to see whether he would confirm or deny it. Finally, his rough face cracked into a soft smile and he nodded slowly.
____"Aye, you… you must come back to visit us, son. And you must visit the rest of the village, too." He pushed himself to stand, raising a curious eyebrow as Alasdair reflexively stood quickly to his feet as well, then gave a dry chuckle. "It's not everyday somebody comes back from the dead, is it?"

____The following week was a full and joyful time for Alasdair, despite the cold and grey weather that still lingered, but it came to an end all too quickly. As he stood outside the cottage in the early morning, a new cloak around his shoulders, despite his protestations, and a bag of warm food at his hip, even the drizzling rain could do nothing to dampen his spirits.
____"I promise I'll write to you, Ma. My handwriting has gotten better, and Colm can help you if you're having trouble. He doesn't want to admit to it, but he is quite good." He glanced towards his father, then leaned forward to whisper into Moira's ear. "And I'll send as much as I can with them, for you to put back for the winters and to take care of Margaret. And if ever there's anything I can do for you, you've only to say the word and I'll—"
____"I know you will, son, and I look forward to hearing all about it. I wouldn't want to live in a city like Regalia myself, but it does sound like an interesting place. Take care of yourself, and if you do happen to meet a nice Regalian lass, you'll tell me about her, won't you?"
____Blushing and muttering a half-hearted agreement, Alasdair accepted his mother's embrace, scowling at Colm as he silently laughed at his discomfiture, then reached out a hand towards his brother. Although still distant, Colm had eventually warmed up to him slightly, and the pair had begun to make up for lost time over the last week as they worked together. Colm reached out his arm in return, and each grasped the other's forearm with a firm grip, giving the other's shoulder a shake with their other hand.
____"Good health to you, brother," Colm said "I am… grateful that you came to see us. I hope you will come again."
____From what he had learned of his taciturn brother, Alasdair understood the beginning warmth hidden under the chilly-sounding words and gave a silent nod, not pushing further. It would take more than a week to rebuild his relationship with Colm, but this was a start. Finally, he turned to his father, holding out a hand in a similar manner. Iain took his arm as expected but then suddenly pulled Alasdair close to him and wrapped his other arm around his shoulders in a short but tight embrace.
____"Stay safe out there and keep an eye out for trouble-makers in the city. Can't expect them to be raised as soundly as you were. Don't let them try to cheat you just because you're from the mountains, you hear? Beat them around the ears if you have to."
____Alasdair accepted his father's words with a measure of amusement, knowing that his gruff front concealed affection, and reached down to shoulder his pack.
____"I know, and I'll be alright. I don't know when I'll be able to come back again, but I will as often as I'm able. Good health and blessings to you all. I love you…"
____Raising a hand in farewell, he began to make his way down the path, but was stopped by his father's voice speaking out with one final admonition.
____"Oh, and… Mister Douglas? Do your family proud."
____Throughout the farewells, Alasdair had managed to maintain dry eyes, but now he found himself rapidly blinking as he attempted to keep his composure. Although he had felt his heart swell with warmth and pride at the praise of his lords, it couldn't compare to the gratitude he felt at his father's words. Unable to speak further, he simply gave a single solemn nod and inclined his head towards him in an unspoken promise, taking it deeply to heart.
____As he reached the peak of the mountain late that morning, the gloom finally broke and revealed the glen in all of its fresh-washed glory. And as Alasdair continued his trek back to the city, the spring finally lifted his heart again.