Prince Across the Water (30 page)

Prince Charlie followed. “I understand,” he said. “It's a desperate game, but perhaps the gamble will win.” Quickly, he took his bonnet and wig off, stuffing them down the front of his shirt. “And I suppose we're as well drowned as shot.”

Now I could hear the soldiers scrambling up the slope, calling to one another. I prayed that the ripples in the pool would fade before the redcoats got to the top of the rise or they'd guess at once where we were.

“Lie down!”

I took a deep breath, placed the reed in my mouth, closed my eyes, and slipped under the water. The chill of night was still on the pool and it wrapped me up like folds of ice. I felt the prince sink down close by and we lay together on the muddy bottom.

Now I opened my eyes and saw that there was about a foot of dark water above us, breaking the light into wavy threads, like a rainbow that's come undone. The reeds were just long enough to pierce the surface and allow us to breathe.

Then I heard the voices of the redcoats, as if through a rough piece of plaid. They sounded very far away.

“Damn you, Hawks! You said they came down here.”

“They did, Sergeant. Sure as death they did.”

“You idiot! Look about. The place is deserted. There's nobody.”

“They must have gone another way,” said the third voice. “Through those rocks back there.”

I prayed silently,
Dear God and St. Andrew, dinna let them come too close!

A soft splash hit the water.

I gulped and nearly lost the reed. My fingers clutched the muddy bottom of the pool as I struggled to keep still.
Breathe
, I told myself.
Breathe
.

Then a fish swam by my head, its tail flicking my cheek as it passed by in a flurry of bubbles.

Let them believe all the ripples are trout
, I prayed.

There was so little air coming through the reed, it was hard to keep my head clear. I fought to stay calm, to take small, slow breaths.

Now the wound in my arm began to throb, my temples were pounding like a drum. I was hot and frozen both at once, the fire in my lungs struggling against the chill of the water. Then I felt that sickly pain in my brow that told me a fit was coming on.

A fit? Oh, God!
I thought.
Surely that will be the end of us
.

I thought about Mairi falling into the Gloaming Pool, thinking the Fair Folk were waiting for her. Was I to die in the same way? Perhaps it was what I deserved.

Suddenly the motes of light on the water's surface seemed to merge together and I saw my sister's face. Her voice, like a ripple, played over my ears.

“Ye've done me nae wrong, Duncan. Things happen there's nae help for it. Nae blame, either.” The touch of the water felt like Mairi's small hands stroking my cheeks, soothing me, taking away the pain. “Dinna look back and be sorry,” said the voice. “Look forward and be brave.”

Somewhere in the world beyond the pool Hawks cried, “Hoi, there!”

A musket fired and a bullet punched into the water a few feet from my head. In that instant Mairi was gone.

“What are you doing, you fool?”

“I saw something move in the water.”

“We're here to catch men, not fish. That was a trout jumping.”

“I'm going down to take a gander.”

“Look!” the third soldier exclaimed. “There's somebody moving about there, high up in the rocks where I said they'd gone.”

“It looks like a girl.”

“The way these rebels dress, in those silly skirts, I'll wager it's the boy. And the other one will be with him. Come on, after them!”

I waited as long as I could bear it, to be sure they were gone. A musket shot in the distance told me they were. I pressed my hands to the bottom and pushed up.

Dripping with weeds and mud, I dragged myself to my feet and looked round for the prince. I spotted him a few feet from where I had just been lying. He was still under the water—pale, lifeless, and still.

39 FAREWELL

An awful fear clutched my belly. I plunged in with both hands, seized the prince by the sleeve, and hauled him up. He broke the surface, coming into a sitting position, and opened his eyes. Spitting out the reed, he began a frothy coughing and stared at me blankly for several moments before recognition sparked in his eyes.

“Yes, I remember now. Young Duncan. Are we safe?”

“The redcoats have gone,” I replied. “They saw something else to chase.”

I hardly dared think about what that
something
was. Surely it was too mad to suppose it was really Mairi. And yet, I thought I'd heard one of them say it was a girl among the rocks.

I shook the thought from my head. Taking the prince by the elbow, I helped him to his feet.

“What happened to ye, sir?” I asked. “For a moment I took ye for dead.”

“It was so odd,” he answered dreamily. “I felt I was back in my own bed in my father's palace in Italy. But the sheets were ice and the mattress stuffed with snow. It was cold and warm at the same time. I didn't want to get up. I fancied I could just lie there and sleep on forever.”

“This
is
an enchanted place,” I said. “Strange things happen here in the Gloaming Pool.”

“Stranger even than a prince caked in muck?” He looked down at his clothes and began laughing.

I put a finger to my lips, urging him to be quiet. “We'd best be away from here while we can,” I said, wading out of the pool. “We canna be sure they willna come back.” But whether it was the redcoats I feared or something worse, I wasn't sure.

“A moment,” said the prince, noticing the torn sleeve of my sark and the deep wound on my arm that was starting to bead with blood again. “We cannot leave that unattended.” He took off his scarf and tied it snugly about my wound.

“Och, it's nae so bad,” I said, trying hard not to flinch as he pulled the scarf tight. “The bullet cut the skin, but missed the bone.”

“Nevertheless …” said the prince. “Nevertheless.”

We started westward toward Loch Lochy, clinging to whatever cover we could find, and watching out for the redcoats. Our clothes dried slowly and we were both shivering with cold. I hated to think about the trail we were leaving. Even a child could have followed it.

“Do you think we'll come across the others?” the prince asked, breathing hard.

“No until the loch itself, if they're being as canny as we,” I replied. I was out of breath, too.

“Well, there is no help for it then,” he said. “We must do the best for ourselves.”

We spoke no more after that.

By noon we'd reached the hills that rise to the south of the River Gloy. The country beyond was open and exposed, so we took shelter among a cluster of boulders to wait for the night. A small wind was puzzling around the rocks and for a little while rain clouds threatened. I hoped we wouldn't get wet again. We were only a few hours dry. But the good weather held and the sky cleared.

In the scramble to escape, the prince had come away with no supplies. I brought out my own food and offered it to him, though it was little more than a handful of oats, and that badly used by our time in the pool. Of course we didn't dare make a fire.

“It's hardly worthy,” I said quietly.

Prince Charlie waved away my apology and chewed up a mouthful of the cold, mushy oats as if it were a shank of the finest beef. “I've learned to get by on humbler fare.” He smiled at me. “Food so generously given is as good as a banquet.”

I smiled back to see him put such a brave face on misery. All the while I was in a kind of daze, thinking about whom I was eating with.

“If I were a prince,” I said at last, “I'm no sure I would take it so well.”

He shrugged and took a swallow of water from my flask. “I think, Duncan, I've learned more these past months than in all the years I studied lessons with my tutors.”

“Learned what, sir?” I asked. “To be dirty and cold and scared?”

He laughed. “I have learned to understand the quality of my people's hearts.” He put his hand on his chest and there was a kind of pride in it. “I have dressed as a prince and a servant.” He paused. “Once, I was even dressed as a girl.”

“I heard that story.” I grinned. “No a pretty girl, either.”

He chuckled. “Quite ugly, actually.”

Then he gestured at his kilt. “And I have dressed as a Highlander. I find I do as well with it as any of the best breeches. I hope to God to walk the streets of London with it yet.”

“And I hope soon to be free of these breeks, these trousers, forever,” I said fervently.

“Let us shake on that, Highland Duncan,” the prince said. His hand touched mine.

The prince's touch
.

If I had expected some lightning shock, some clap of thunder, some instance of healing, I was sorely misled. It was only a man's hand holding mine, well-callused from his time in the heathery hills. But magic or not, in that moment it felt good to be—in some small way—his friend.

Once the sun had sunk low enough in the sky to offer us shadows, we set off again. I got us over Glen Roy without further run-ins with any redcoats, and headed us down the slopes in the gathering dark.

The loch was a dark mass ahead. To the southwest we could see the distant suggestion of high-peaked mountains. On another day, in other circumstances, I might have enjoyed my first look at such a pretty place. But this was not the time nor place for admiring the view.

The cove where we were to meet the rest of our party was one the prince had visited earlier in his perilous journeys, and now it was he who became the guide.

We traveled stealthily through the twilight, keeping to the trees whenever possible. Up close, the loch was a deep blue with clumps of brown grass and wads of fallen leaves clogging the shore.

We would walk a few steps, stop to listen for any movement, then go on. Dark clouds scudded across the sky, for the moment hiding the moon.

At last we came to a curved stretch of beach sheltered from view by a willow grove. As we crept toward the water, we were stopped in our tracks by the sound of a pistol being cocked.

To have come so far to be killed at the last?
I drew in a deep breath, put the prince behind me, and waited.

“Is that a friend who passes?” inquired a voice we both knew.

“Angus Ban!” I answered. “It's me. Duncan of Glenroy and …” To be safe I added, “And a companion.”

The rest of our band emerged from the trees, welcome shadows. I counted them and not one was missing. Not even Lochiel.

“I'm glad to see you all safe!” exclaimed Prince Charlie.

“We took a few nicks,” said Cluny McPherson, “but nothing worse. When they're tracking through the heather, the redcoats are nae good with their aim.” He laughed. “Unlike Iain here, who can hit a redcoat as easily as a rabbit. Though they're no so good eating.”

They started to laugh but Angus Ban hushed them. “Lochiel's men have found us a boat and stowed it in the bushes. It's a wee bit leaky, but the only one no destroyed by the English.” He pointed to the far side of the willow grove. “I'd advise ye, sir, to get aboard and be off.”

I saw some of the men hauling a long rowboat out of concealment and sliding it into the water. The prince saw it, too, but he took me aside for a final word. Shielding me with his body, he slipped the lion brooch out of his pocket and pressed it into my hand.

“It's all I have to give, Highland Duncan,” he said, “and too little for the service you have done me.”

“I canna think that it should come to me, sir,” I said, trying to give it back.

The prince refused to accept it. “If you won't keep it for yourself,” he said, “then keep it for me. Till I return.”

I thought about that. “If yer determined, sir, I'll keep it till then.” But even as I spoke, a sudden chill in my head warned me that he would never return, never sit upon the throne. That was just a story he kept in his heart, to give him the courage to see his journey through to its end. And a story all of Scotland would keep to see us through to ours.

I lowered my eyes so he couldn't know the thought in them. Then I pinned the brooch beneath my plaid so that it remained out of sight.

At that, the prince, his hand on Angus Ban's arm, climbed into the leaky boat, bending low. Lochiel and his brother and all of his men were already seated. There was one place left, at the back, for the prince.

With a grunted command from Lochiel, the men dipped their oars into the dark loch, and they were away. The clouds parted for a moment, and the moon shone down full on them. Then the clouds returned, the light disappeared, and the boat slipped into the shadows and was gone.

I stood on the shore with Angus Ban, Iain, and McNab. We didn't wave or call out or make any movement, just stood and watched them go.

After a while, I asked, “Will they be in time?”

Angus Ban sighed. “If God and St. Andrew make it so.” Then he turned to McNab. “Well, it's back to the rocks and caves for Iain and me, McNab.”

“Aye, it's an uncomfortable thing, this business of being free,” McNab answered wryly.

“And what about ye, Duncan?” Angus Ban asked. “Is it a rebel's life ye'll have?”

I thought about it, about living up in the hills with the men. About chasing through the heather and scrambling about the rocks. I thought about the cave where the beautiful widow Keppoch kept her small court. I thought about dodging the redcoats and killing them when we could.

Then I stared through the murk and over the dark loch. The prince's boat was no longer visible, but I knew he was going back to where he belonged, to the other side of the water, where the Fair Folk and the goblins dwell.

“Nae,” I replied. “There's still much to be done in Glenroy. My family has more need of me now than any prince.”