Chapter 3

"Maw said ye looked like the caber tossin' kind"

Donald removed his sash from his face where he had been using it to block out the sun. He had been dozing in the grass meadow near the dip, hoping for a little piece and quiet, but Heather Galloway had found him. The question puzzled the prince slightly. Was she calling him strong? Then again that wasn't a bad compliment at all. Too bad it wasn't true.

"Nae" He placed the sash over his eyes again "Ah can throw the littleuns, maybeh the medium, but ah'm more fond of ridin'"

"Ye must own a lot o' horses"

Donald smirked.

"Glen's ma personal favourite. Ye cannae miss him – sleekest Clydesdale in tae country"

"Ah saw yer brother riding a bay Clydesdale across tae moors earlier"

Donald lifted his sash from his eyes again, frowning.

"Nae way! That's Glen's sister"

Heather giggled and jumped down onto the grass besides him. Donald shifted a little uncomfortably, slinging the sash back over his shoulder. Well, no afternoon nap for him then. It only reoccurred to him just then that he was potentially betrothed to the pushy lassie. So he figured he might at least try to be a little kinder. Heather certainly seemed more fun that the 'delicate' princess of the McClure clan. Even so, Donald wasn't entirely enthusiastic about it. He would rather be able to get to know his fiancée before they were engaged, not get to know them after. Especially since he didn't really want to be wed at all, not to a stranger. But Donald was no fool, tradition was tradition, and his parents expected two white weddings, new kingdoms and a ... lineage. Donald shivered.

"It's a wee bit warm tae be shivering laddie" Heather chuckled "It's nae even snowin'"

"Oh uh, ah was just thinking o' ... stuff"

Heather regarded him for a moment, her ginger curls catching a brilliant shine in the sunlight.

"Ye ... nervous?"

"Aboot ..."

"Ah think ye know"

Donald gulped, and then he slowly nodded.

"Look ... Heather. Ye seem like a nice lassie but ... it's all too soon don't ye think?"

The woman closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and held her breath. After a few moments she released it, a strained grin on her freckled face.

"It's fer the good o' clans"

"Well that wasnae at all an obvious recital"

Heather's face fell.

"Alright well, aye. But's it's nae like they'll listen to us"

Donald sighed, it was true. The night their father had told them of the betrothal, the princes had argued bitterly for many hours, but both Calum and Maggie had insisted that that was that. Heather and Donald sat in an uncomfortable silence a little while longer, both looking in the direction of the McIntosh castle. There was a stirring of noise from the castle grounds were a band of bagpipe players were attempting to perfect the chorus of Marie's Wedding.

"Shame me maw nae lets me near tae bagpipes anymore ..." Heather said at last.

"Why?"

"She said it sounds like a bairn goin' fer a jobbie"

Donald snorted at the mental imagery of this and stuffed his sash in his mouth to save himself some of his dignity.

"But hey, marry me an' ah'll get em back"

Donald grimaced, thinking quite seriously that he would never want to hear that sound in his life. A couple of bumblebees buzzed past him, stopping momentarily to gather pollen from a small flower near Donald's feet. He envied them. Free flitting little things. The prince thought he could rather use a stinger at times too.

On the other side of the castle wall, Douglas was checking the racing horses for the games. There were 5 of them in total, all proud thoroughbreds varying from grey to chestnut. There were also a small posse of Shetland ponies for the children of the clans to ride, and Finlay was tending to these. He'd grown particularly fond of a little Piebald mare called Fife, the gentlest of the bunch.

Douglas coveted this job, especially as one of the thoroughbred stallions was being particularly ornery that day, snapping at everyone and everything.

"Ol Jack's been like that all mornin'"

Douglas sighed irritably, attempting to coax the stallion into submission with a carrot.

"Health check?"

"Fit as a fiddle"

"He looks a wee bit agitated"

Douglas turned to see Gavina McClure standing in the doorway of the stable, lifting the hem of her skirt a few centimetres lest it trail into the straw that covered the floor.

"Whit?"

"Has he been out yet?"

Douglas frowned. There hadn't been a rider to let him out of the paddock because they were all busy with the games.

"Nae ah don't suppose so ..." Douglas walked to the back door of the stables and called to Jack's rider to let him out for a few moments. He turned back to Gavina, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Ye know much about horses?"

"Nae ... bit messy." Gavina wrinkled her nose as she looked down at the floor of the stable. "But from here ah could see he looked cooped up"

Douglas chuckled kind-heartedly but internally he worried how he'd get along with a bride that wouldn't like his horses. True, Gavina was a lot less brash than the Galloway princess, but he didn't want to be a protector, he wanted to be a companion. He liked a little spirit, Gavina always seemed permanently startled. As he was thinking this, a pair of bees flew in through the stable doors, and Gavina jumped, falling into the adjacent stable onto the Shetland ponies that nickered in surprise. Finlay leapt over the fencing to rescue her, whilst Douglas turned back to the thoroughbreds that had started their own chorus of neighing. The scene had become chaotic in just a few moments. This really wasn't a great start, but Douglas knew the dress rehearsal was about to start. He decided to go on without waiting.

"The games are all set up" Donald assured his parents as he ascended up the spiralling staircase towards the royal bedchambers.

Douglas was looking out of the window on the wall that separated the princes' sleeping chambers. There was a crease between his brows, and Donald knew his brother was deep in thought. He, like Donald, was still dressed in his wedding rehearsal attire that the prince's had gained earlier, and intricate blue swirls coasted both brother's torsos.

"It's a fine night" Donald murmured quietly, attempting to distract Douglas' attention. It worked slightly, for the prince's eyes shifted rightwards, but he did not turn away from the window.

"Tomorrow's the choice" Donald muttered, quietly again.

At first he thought Douglas wouldn't answer, and he made to speak again. Douglas got there first.

"And ... have ye reached a decision brother?"

Donald sighed.

"Nae ... you?"

"Nae"

More silence. Donald folded his arms as he too stared out of the window, looking at the highlands, purpled by the velvet night. Their home. The prince's had never strayed further than the moors and mountains, it was all they knew. And now, they would have to leave it all to marry women they didn't know. They had tomorrow to hold on to, and then the famous Donald and Douglas duo would cease.

"Ah dinnae suppose the thought of ... runnin' has crossed yer mind" Donald kept his turned towards the window, but his eyes looked sideward's, to see Douglas' reaction.

"It crossed o'er my mind" Douglas inhaled sharply and straightened up. "But where Donnie?"

"Well" Donald narrowed his eyes and looked over the view again, his eyes searching the mountains and meadows, over the dip and across the valleys. His eyes settled on a little point in the south of the land.

"The glen Dougie"

"Hm?"

"We've always said it's secret right? Well what aboot the thicket? Ah'm sure if we take a sword or somethin' we can cut our way through leftwards into tae forest, they'll be harder to track than the moors. After that we head southwards"

Douglas's mouth twisted to the side, considering his brothers proposition. Then, he nodded defiantly.

"When they're all asleep"

"Aye brother"

The two princes stared into the horizon; wondering just how secret their secret glen really was.