The Maclean Brothers

“Hector won’t do it,” thirteen year old Alexander taunted. He should have know his older brother better than that. The four green-eyed boys were standing on the outskirts of one of the many forests around their land, concealed by the branches and the greenery. What made this one so special was the fact that when one crossed it on the other side was England, not a place that a Scot wanted to be caught in.

“He will,” replied Robert who had just turned fourteen. He could have talked his elder brother out of going but he was as eager for excitement as his brothers to pass the boring day.

“I want to go too,” piped up the baby of the family, Ewan.

“Of course you can’t go. Are you daft?” Hector replied hitting his youngest brother across the head as he stared intently at his goal.

“Ouch,” cried Ewan. Narrowing his eyes he looked at Hector, “If I want to go than I will!”

“Are you sure you want to do this Hector?” Robert asked looking over as well to the colossal tree that could be seen even from their hideout. The tree was famous for miles around as being the only one that gave any sort of good fruit. Unfortunately, the English had clamed it and several of the Lords across the Border had set men to guard it. It was a point of pride among the English to have that tree. Which was why Alexander had bet Hector his newborn stallion to go retrieved a red apple from it.

“Aye, I want that horse of Alexander’s,” Hector grinned as he moved out of the safety of the shadows.

“Which he won’t be getting,” Alexander called cheerfully as he watched the huge back of his brother. At sixteen years of age, Hector was already taller than his father and was growing broader with each passing day as his training as a Clan warrior and leader became tougher.

“He won’t be smiling when I come back,” Hector muttered to himself as he quietly slipped through the trees, moving swiftly and surely onto English land. Pausing when he saw a guard a few feet in front of him he moved back into the shadows of the forest. Hector was just wondering how to slip past him when a group of three boys ran by, distracting the guard. Taking advantage of this perfectly timed commotion, he made his way to the opposite side. It was then, behind the tree that he felt another presence. Taking out the dagger that he always kept at his waist he waited for the footsteps to come nearer. His heart was pounding at the thought that he might have to kill someone today. Hector had been on his first cattle raid only a month ago but things had gone smoothly and he had not used his sword. But today might be different and he couldn’t help thinking that it was ironic that he might have to kill a man over an apple. Hector waited until the person was coming around the tree and jumped. Jamming his knee into their stomach he heard a painful intake of breath as the person doubled over. Hector then swiped his victim’s legs from under him and pinned him to the floor, a dagger at their throat.

“Ewan?” Hector whispered confused as he made eye contact with a familiar pair of sea green eyes.

“I think you’ve killed me,” was the weak reply of his little brother.

Hector growled as he got off Ewan, “I thought I told you to stay with Robert and Alexander.”

“If I don’t listen to Da, what makes you think I will listen to you?” Ewan countered standing with an arm still around his middle. “Damnation, training is making you really strong.”

“Don’t swear.”

“You, Alexander, and Robert do it all the time,” he protested.

“We’re older,” Hector said looking around to make sure that the noise they had made had not reached the guard or anyone else in the forest. Looking back at his brother he fixed him with his firmest glare, “What do you think you were doing following me?”

“I wanted to come and see England, and maybe even get an apple,” was Ewan’s innocent reply. Hector knew that he couldn’t very well send him back by himself. What if the guard was to see Ewan? He was only ten and had only just started his training.

“Come on then,” Hector relented. “But if you make any noise the English aren’t going to be the only ones you should be worried about.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“John! Wait for me,” cried Rosaline as she made her short twelve year old legs run as fast as she could.

“Go back to the castle and do your weaving Rose,” her brother, John said as he talked to his friends at the foot of a huge tree. The trunk alone was five times as wide as her and almost seven times as tall. It was said to be fed by the blood of the Scotsmen that had died there. At least that was what the guards said and never when Rosaline was around, she had learned this through her sneaking around. She loathed being cooped up in the tower forced to do needlework with her maid. She much rather enjoyed the sun and running outside. Her father was forever raging at her behavior and said that if her mother were alive she would not be so wild. Yet after such lectures he always gathered her up and kissed her and she knew that he loved her spirit even while he tried to curb it.

“Good day Hugo…Henry,” Rosaline said breathlessly as she came to a stop before the three boys. Her brother John had the same honey blond hair as hers while the other two boys were darker. Hugo’s was a dark brown and he had smiling brown eyes to match. Henry’s hair was light brown with eyes the color of the sky during a thunderstorm. There had always been something chilling about him even with his beautiful face. Rosaline didn’t know if she liked the thought of having to marry him when she was older. Her father had made the arrangement since birth but with each meeting she liked him less and less.

“Rose, can’t you run along and play with your dolls,” John sneered. Rosaline frowned, hating that he put on an act for his friends. When they weren’t around, John was much nicer and caring.

“I want to play with you,” she answered giving her brother a pout.

“Well I’m bu--.”

“Very well,” Henry cut in. “We were just daring each other to climb the tree and get an apple.”

“The tree?” she repeated tilting her head and looking up--way up--into the branches. She couldn’t even see the top!

Henry nodded, “Why don’t you try?”

“I don’t think that’s a go idea,” started John looking a bit worried at the suggestion.

“What’s the danger? Unless, she’s scared of course,” Henry ended with a challenging gleam in his eyes. Rosaline knew that she should not do it. For one, common sense told her that it was dangerous to try to climb a tree that high. Second, her father would have a fit if he found out and even her brother was looking nervous about the whole thing. Yet she wanted to be a part of John’s group and what better way than to prove she could be just as tough as them?

“I’m not scared,” she said lifting her chin boldly and walked over to the trunk.

“Rose…” John gave her a pleading look but she ignored him as she stuffed her yellow skirts into her girdle. Rosaline saw a strange look come over Henry as he looked at her bare legs but she though nothing of it as she grasped the branch above her. Little by little she hoisted herself up. It was harder than she had imagined because the branches were sometimes higher then her reach, forcing her to find foot holds in the trunk. The coarse surface hurt her smooth skin causing blisters. Finally, she was within range of the apple. In triumph she looked down to gloat at her brother and friends only to find that they were gone.

“John?” she called down, suddenly worried. She continued calling for another minute before the truth sunk in. They had tricked her, making her climb while they made their escape and left her. Tears prickled her eyes but she refused to give them the satisfaction. Knowing there was no more use to being in the tree she tried to make her way down only to find herself stuck. She had no idea how to get out of the blasted tree! Rosaline tried one more time to reach the branch beneath her with her foot only to almost topple out of the tree. Holding as tightly as she could to the trunk all she could do was pray that John came back for her. For the next few seconds she called the boys every bad name she had ever overheard her father’s men utter and admitted to herself that it made her feel much better. That’ll teach you to trust stupid boys, Rosaline thought. Leaning her head against the branch she looked out into the beautiful Scottish hillside and marveled at how such a lovely country could have such horrible men. She knew of the dangerous of the Scotsmen and the brutality that happened around her although her father tried to shield her from most of it. It was a pity that the magnificent mountains and green forests were a place of constant danger. And myth, like trees that move on their own, she thought. Rosaline straightened in shock as she realized that the bushes closest to the trees had indeed moved and that she could hear voices. Her hopes that it was her brother were dashed when she made out a Scottish accent.

“Slow down! Watch your head! For the love of Christ be quiet!” came an angry voice at the same time as a boy with black hair came into the clearing, not even bothering to check if it was empty. Rosaline couldn’t make out much of his features but could tell that he was younger than herself.

“Don’t worry, there’s no one here,” the boy said as he looked up at the tree and a smile spread across his face. Rosaline’s eyes widened, scared that he had seen her but his gaze was focused on the apple hanging above her. She soon forgot everything else when the owner of the first voice came into view. Unlike the boy, he was older and taller than many of her father’s men yet she knew that he had yet to stop growing. He’s going to be a giant! She thought. The giant had a dagger in his hands and checked his surroundings for danger. Satisfied no one was there he sheathed his weapon and promptly hit the boy on the back of the head.

“Stop that!” the black haired boy said rubbing his head. “Aren’t I wounded enough for a day?”

“I haven’t even started laddie,” the giant snapped. “I rue ever letting you come. Did you hear the noise you made? The trail you left behind? You’re lucky the English are blind and deaf or we would have been dead.”

“Alright I’m sorry,” the boy said looking at his feet.

The giant snorted, “No you’re not, I know you better than that brother.” Rosaline couldn’t suppress a smile when the little boy grinned as he looked up at his elder brother. They were fascinating to watch and now that she knew they were brothers she could see some similarities. They moved in the same graceful way yet the giant had an animal quality to his movements that made it impossible for her to look away. The air around the giant spoke of danger yet he and his brother carried themselves with good humor. Rosaline knew they were dangerous yet somehow also knew that they wouldn’t hurt her. A movement from the right made the giant’s head snap in that direction in alertness but his brother didn’t seem worried as he once again looked at the apple above Rosaline. His eyes, however, were drawn to her when she moved to get a firmer grip on her perch. His mouth dropped and Rosaline’s heart began to speed up.

“Look,” he yelled. “A fairy!”

“What are you blabbing about?” the giant said. His eyes followed his brother’s and Rosaline gasped out loud as her blue gaze meet a deep green pair.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hector was amazed when he looked up to find just what Ewan had said, a fairy, in the tree. She was a beauty, with hair that reached to her shoulders. It was an amazing blond the color of sunshine and looked soft as it was lifted by the wind to dance through the air. Her eyes were a striking blue of the sky of the clearest day on a Scottish summer. Her skin was pale white and she had lips the softest color of pink. Hector couldn’t help thinking that the fairy would be a stunning woman when she was older.

“It does appear that my brother is right,” Hector said moving to stand just bellow the girl. “Tell me little fairy, how came you to be in this tree?”

“Isn’t it obvious Sir Troll?” the fairy replied smiling. “I was flying too close to the tree to take a red apple and got stuck. I can’t use my wings for risk of catching them on a branch.”

Hector grinned at the girl’s wit and glanced over to see Ewan bestowed, “Is it so noticeable that we are trolls?”

“Yes, I’m afraid you can not hide your hideousness.” She smiled to show that she was joking and tucked a strand of lose hair around her beautiful shell shaped ear. It was strange to think that none of the girls back home interested him half so much as this little English girl. He was just as surprised that her being English didn’t repulse him the way that he would have thought.

“What a shame and I tried so hard,” Hector replied shaking his head with a sad look. “But tell me little fairy, would you be willing to give me something if I get you down from the tree?”

“I’m not sure, you trolls are known for your tricks,” she said but he could tell that she really wanted to get down. “What do you want?”

“That red apple above you.”

“The apple? That’s all.”

“That’s all,” he repeated and waited for her to make up her mind. Hector elbowed Ewan to get him to stop watching her.

“It’s a fairy,” Ewan said in a daze.

“And you call yourself my brother,” Hector said sarcastically.

“It’s a deal Sir Troll,” the fairy said returning the attention to her as she plucked the apple. “Now what.”

“You jump,” Hector said simply.
“Jump?” she swallowed hard.

“Aye.”

“Into your arms?”

“That’s the idea.”

“What if you don’t catch me?”

“I will.”

“I don’t even know you. You could be lying,” she protested. Hector could see the fear in her eyes.

“Listen to me little fairy,” he said softly and waited for her to meet his eyes. “Trust me, I won’t let you fall.” He must have said the right thing because she nodded. Closing her big blue eyes she jumped.

~ ~ ~ ~

Rosaline should have been thinking that she had been foolish to trust a Scot and that she was going to be found dead on the ground by her family. But all she could think of was the truth in the giant’s intense green eyes. She felt the weightlessness of falling through the air and the wind blowing through her hair yet she wasn’t worried. The giant easily caught her and cradled her to his chest. She opened her eyes and smiled into the handsome face of the giant.

“You see, all safe,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied as he set her on her own feet. Rosaline looked over to his brother who was looking at her in wonder.

“Pay no attention to the oaf there,” the giant said making his brother glare at him. “Now, I would like to claim my reward.”

“Naturally,” Rosaline replied taking the apple from her pocket and placing it in the giant’s palm.

“Thank you--.”

“Can I see your wings?” his brother interrupted. Rosaline giggled and the giant sighed.

“Come on you, time to go home,” said the giant grabbing the boy’s arm and dragging him into the forest.

“Wait!” Rosaline cried. “Will I see you again?”

“Maybe,” the giant smirked. “You know how we trolls are.” He vanished just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Rosaline returned to tree often in the next week, always hoping that the giant would return. She would arrive and sit under the comforting branches of the tree, happy and excited. She left when the sun set in the east, disappointed and wondering if maybe she had imagined him. Her brother and father were curious about her absence yet let her do as she pleased as she was out of both their way. Two weeks after the day she got stuck in the tree, Rosaline returned to the spot and settled down in her usual corner. Having learned in the days before that the wait was long and sometimes boring she had brought along a book and packed some food. Midday soon arrived and she hungrily finished off her bread and dried meat. The afternoon wound down and Rosaline knew that she would have to leave soon. She sighed and closed her book, standing she brushed off the crumbs on her new violet dress. Looking up, a cry lodged in her throat as she dropped her book. Before her, leaning against one of the trees was the giant.

“It’s you,” she whispered almost scared that if she was too loud he would flee.

“It’s me,” he repeated coming towards her. “Been waiting for me?”

“Not at all,” Rosaline replied not wanting to admit how much she had wanted to see him again.

“Liar,” the giant called her bluff. “You’ve been here everyday for two weeks.”

“I have not--wait…how would you know that if you haven’t been coming as well?” Rosaline said. “Did you miss me?” The giant blushed at her comment and a warm feeling spread through her.

“I thought maybe we could be…friends.”

“I’d like that,” she said smiling as they sat side by side. “What’s your name?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be that close of friends,” the giant said. “It’s always dangerous.”

“Then what shall I call you?” He had a point and she was willing to compromise.

“You can call me Troll and I’ll call you Fairy,” he decided.

“Are you a warrior Troll?” Rosaline asked cocking her head to the side.

“I will be someday,” Troll replied with a wide smile. She could tell that this was one of his favorite subjects. “I will lead men into battle and kill Eng--people.” He finished as he remember whom he was speaking to. “And you? Will you be the wife of a powerful English Lord?”

“I suppose so,” Rosaline’s gaze dropped to her lap. “But that is still some way off thank goodness.”

“You don’t want to be married? I thought that was what all women wanted?” Troll asked frowning.

“Not everywoman is like that,” Rosaline said a bit mad that even Troll was such a…man. “This woman would like to pick her husband but no, my father chooses for me. Boys are annoying.”

“We are not! Girls are just strange,” he countered but must have seen her face because he added quickly. “We should talk of something else.”

“I have to go,” Rosaline said. “It’s getting dark and my father will get worried.”

“You’re mad?” He said walking beside her.

“I’m not.” But she couldn’t keep her emotions from her face.

“You are,” Troll took her arm and brought her around to face him. “I’m sorry if I said something mean.” Rosaline was shocked that he was apologizing; no man in her family would ever do that.

“I forgive you,” she said, meaning it.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now I will see you back here in a week.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he vowed.

~ ~ ~ ~

Their friendship was a strange one, Hector never revealed too much about his family or himself and he never knew too much about Fairy either. Yet they were so close that when they were together they fought, laughed, debated, and talked for hours. By day, Hector trained with warriors as well as tutors to hone his skills. His brothers joined him as well but he was pushed mush harder as he was to be the Laird when his father died. Then on days that they agreed on, he meet with Fairy and other times he fooled around with his brothers. Years passed quickly in this way and soon he was a man of eighteen. Hector no longer was in the back during raids but in the thickest of it. He had taken English lives and was already on his way to becoming a famous warrior. His father was even letting him plan his own raid with men that would be under his command. Life was changing fast for Hector but an even greater change was about to happen.

Hector confidently wove his way through the forests, having made his way through them a hundred times it was almost second nature. When he arrived to the clearing and huge tree he was surprised to find that Fairy wasn’t here yet. Normally she was the first one to arrive. A feeling of uneasy prickled his senses as he kept his eyes pealed for danger. Finally, he heard the rustling of skirts and Fairy’s familiar footsteps.

“It’s about time lass, I thought--.” When he saw her tearstained face he immediately went to her side and enveloped her into a hug. Hector tired to ignore the strange emotion that had been growing in him for the past month. Every time he was around the blond English girl his heart seemed to race and he felt a strange heat come over his body. Now, worry for this girl was added to his unstable feelings. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t be out here long,” she said pulling away from him. “I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“My father wants me to learn to be a lady and is sending me to my aunt in London with a few of the other daughters from the Border,” she whispered wiping away a tear.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know but for at least six years.”

“Six years!”

“I know, it’s horrible,” Fairy groaned. “I begged to be allowed to stay but I’m to be gone in the morning. I only came to say good-bye.”

“I won’t let you go,” Hector said fiercely, tightening his hold on her.

“You have to. Good-bye Troll.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was so surprised that his hold on her slackened and she was able to slip out of them.

She was almost out of the clearing when he found his voice, “Wait!” Fairy turned and looked at him with those eyes that haunted his thoughts. Three steps brought him to her and he reached into his pocket, withdrawing the necklace of his dead mother. Hector had found himself carrying it around not knowing what he wanted to do with it.

Now he had no doubts about it.

“I want you to have this,” Hector said fastening it around Fairy’s neck. He was so close that he could smell roses coming from her. ’It was my mother’s.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said in awe as she looked at the pendant of a rose encircled with Celtic designs. “I will never take it off, just as I will never forget you.” For the first time since they had meet it was she that vanished from the clearing and Hector that was left wondering why he felt like a part of his soul was gone.