Free Heart

The hooves of horses matched the beating of her own heart as she pushed further away from the village as the men behind her would not let up the hungry chase. It made her push that much harder to escape the men of Longshanks. The wind brushed through her hair and against her bare thighs as the dress was pushed higher for the horse saddle.

She suddenly reined in, the horse slowed from the galloped over the flat land. She hated the feeling of running away with her kilt between her legs. She circled her horse around to face the men and drew her father's sword as they continued to ride closer to her. They slowed down as they draw near, the smiles on their faces showed their seriousness of the situation. "I like a chase." One of the men smirked at her as he circled around her on his horse.

"I would not mind a taste either." Another drew near and stepped down from his horse to move closer. She tightened her grip on the sword and pointed it at him in warning. "Put the sword down woman, we would not want you hurting yourself." He reached a hand out to her and she raised the sword, bringing it down on his hand. His screams seem to echo through the lands as he fell down on his knees gripping his arm.

A man's roar came from her right as he knocked her off the horse and landed on the solid ground. The men stepped from their horses and stood around her as she pushed herself from the ground, reaching for her sword.

One man stepped forward and drew his sword, throwing a swing at her. She blocked it with her own weapon as another kicked the back of her knee, making her land on her hands in front of the Longshanks soldiers. Another man booted the sword out of reach, causing the woman to cast her eyes to the weapon a few meters away. "That was very cheeky of you." His hand came down across her face. "Now what to do with-"

She glanced up at the soldier, his words pausing in his throat. An arrow had gone through his neck and the sound of swords been drawn reached her ears. She looked over her shoulder and caught sight of the figures on the hill coming towards them.

One of the men went to grab her and an arrow struck the soldier's body causing him to hit the ground beside her. The last soldier standing in front of her didn't cast a glance in her direction as he grabbed his horse's reins and kicked the animal into a gallop in the opposite direction.

She was able to breathe in relief as she watched the orange uniform ride over the hills, but the sound of hooves behind her once again caused her to tense. She crawled forward and grabbed the handle of her father's sword and stood from the ground to face the new threat.

She grabbed the front of her horse saddle to help steady herself as the four men stopped in front of her. "Are you well?" A man moved from his horse and took a step towards her, she lifted the sword in warning. She spotted the Scottish clothing of the men, though one couldn't be trusting in such times.

"And who may you be?"

"William Wallace." She couldn't help the spark of surprise. The name was spoken throughout their land since the war between the English and Scottish. William's stories had spread through the land like wildfire.

"Ciara, and I thank you for your arrows." She lowered her sword at his words.

"You have a horse and a sword."

"Aye." She watched him, curious at his point.

"Go home." William saddled his horse, the conversation over.

"There won't be a home if Longshanks continues." She saw him hesitate as they turned their horses to leave.

He paused in thought, a glance at the dead soldier near her feet. "You can fight."

"Aye."

"You have a spirit in you." He scanned her over. "One we could use in a fight against the English." He nodded his head and turned his horse around, the men with him looked ready to argue.

She took that as a signal and saddled her own horse to follow the men. She caught up with them, coming in from the back next to the eldest. She kept to herself as the shock of William's agreement was finally sinking in. She was going to be a part of the Rebels of Scotland, fight alongside William Wallace and his men.

They rode over a hill and headed towards a forest when a man stepped out of the trees and into view. William didn't hesitate as he rode closer to the man and nodded to him, riding further into the forest towards a camp of Scottish fighters. "Where is the food William?"

"You ride away looking for food, come back with a woman." A man stood up from the fire and took hold of William's reins. He glanced over William's shoulder and looked over Ciara.

"Leave Ciara alone." She was grateful that William did not refer to her as 'woman'. "She will fight with us." The attention of the men turned towards her, disbelieving shined in their eyes. A body moved in front of her, blocking the eyes of the men.

"Get along men, nothing to see." She took note of the stocky man with red hair.

"Campbell, Ciara." William nodded his head in her direction, the old man's stare focused on her.

"Ciara? Who was your family lass?" It was a topic she would rather not discuss, not with men she knew nothing about.

"O'Brien." She knew the name was recognized as his eyes traveled her, looking for any sign of lying.

"Neil O'Brien, who was hanged for fighting for his daughters' virtue?" Longshanks had put out the new law that any newlywed wife had to be bedded by an Englishman on her wedding night, her older sister was one of them. Their father had fought against the soldiers and he was a warning to others. He only fought harder when they tried to have herself and younger sister. The aftermath was her two sisters' killed during the escape and her father hanged. There wasn't one day that went past that she didn't feel guilty for surviving or seeking revenge for her family.

"I'm his second daughter, and I'll fight in my family's name." She didn't leave any doubt in her tone.

"God bless your family." She knew Campbell meant it with respect. She didn't know about her faith, if there was such a man as God, how could he let the tragedy of events happen to her family.

"You'll need to prove your worth, your skill." Williams' finally word stopped the men from questioning her, she knew that many men would argue about her as it meant going against their traditional ways.

"My son, Hamish. You can't find me, he'll be around. That doesn't mean I agree with you fighting, Neil would roll over in his grave seeing you in blood." She was tempted to ask the man what he knew of her father, Neil always told her to follow her heart, this was her path. "You may want a bath lassie." Her fingers brushed the mud caked on her dress along with the grass stains. "There's a place in the forest there, Hamish will keep watch." The two younger adults were left alone as Campbell headed for William, they simply glanced at each other before Hamish started walking towards the forest.

The silence stretched on between them and she knew sooner rather than later Hamish was going to bring up the topic, she hadn't met one man in her life that hadn't tried to persuade her choice of actions. They were weaving through the trees and the trickle of water reached her ears as they walked in the direction.

Once the river came in sight, she glanced over at Hamish who was already facing the other way giving her the privacy she needed. Instead of undressing straight away, she stood watching him to make sure he kept his father's word - she trusted the man as far as she could throw him. All men had a greed, whether it was in their hands, stomach or their pockets. There was sure to be at least one, she hadn't met one man on her travels who was not tainted.

Without seeing a hint of muscle moving in his body, she began to slip the simple dress off her shoulders. It was the last dress that she packed along with the shawl. The thought of washing it did enter her mind though she couldn't be sure if the material would last. Leaving her clothing on a stone, she slipped into the cold water that was mid-thigh. The level left her exposed as she started cleaning the grim off her pale skin. "You shouldn't be here." Hamish finally spoke his thoughts with his back still turned. "Let alone fighting, you are a woman." She rolled her eyes as he stated the obvious. "This world isn't built for you, any man could take-"

Ciara snapped at him. "I'm aware what men are capable of Hamish and I can take care of them myself, so don't think I'm a princess idly waiting for help." Marching over to her clothes, she slipped the dress back on and walked straight past him - if she looked at him, she may just punch the lad.

She returned to her horse, not to leave the group, to let the simple actions of caring after the horse take over and make the emotions vanish. The notion of running her fingers through the mane and breathing out her mouth and in her nose was a technique she used regularly to calm her frustrations.

Ciara was in the open plains, yet she still felt trapped by the social image of women - the weaker sex most would say. "So it's true?" Her attention flickered to the man beside her, his Irish accent standing out with his grin. "A Scottish woman is among us."

"One that could easily put you flat on your back." She didn't get any response like she thought as he simply stared at her, his eyes shining with laughter.

"Always liked a challenge." The dark-haired man held out his hand and shook hers, noticing that he didn't lighten his hold because of her gender. "The names Stephen, Will has me showing you to your tent."

"Will everyone else have a tent?"

Once again, she could see the laughter in the man's eyes and she suddenly wondered if he wasn't all there in the head. "Only the important ones."

"Are you included in that?"

"Aye, Ireland is my island. " She decided not to get into too much detail about his logic and shifted the conversation.

"You fight alongside with William."

"And no doubt you will." She was waiting for the after comment but nothing came. "This is it." They kept walking towards a reasonable size tent, one she thought would be too big for just herself. As she stepped in, there were bedrolls on the ground and a table in the centre with battement plans scattered on top.

"Where is my tent?" She wanted to be an equal, though that didn't stop her getting nervous about close confinements with strange men.

"Right here." He spread his arms and flopped down on one of the bedrolls. "It's either in here or out there." He pointed outside where the rest of the men slept. Ciara knew she had more of a chance getting better sleep in here than outside with the rest. Watching her finally come to a decision, Stephen nodded his head to the bedroll not far from his own. "Over there lass." Before he rolled onto his stomach and fell asleep.

Ciara settled into her own blankets, her mind swirling. Her eyes traced his broad back, hearing the soft snores from the body. The man across from her kept her on her toes with his odd behaviour. She didn't know whether she liked that or not, a male's intention was usually easy to understand. Maybe the Irish were rather different to the Scottish.

::::

It was early morning, darkness still covered the land and she could have murdered one of the five men in the tent. The snoring was either quiet or loud and she couldn't fall asleep, for the sanity of both herself and the men she left the tent in search of food.

Weaving through the sleeping men, she nodded her head to the two watchers on duty, she headed for the forest with a bow and arrows strapped to her back. Her father had taught some defence skills to his daughters' when their mother had passed. He couldn't keep an eye on all of them, so he gave them a chance to defend themselves. She could use a sword but they were heavy and required a lot of energy, a bow in contrast with its lightweight and her keen eye, she could hit a moving target miles away. It wasn't her first hunt, every family needed something on the table at night and she gathered it was the best way to prove her worth - the skill of an archer.

It had taken a few more hours than excepted, it was like the forest knew there was a war upon them as it seemed as sacre as the local villages. The weight on her back was awarding as she walked into the live camp, keeping her eyes forward as she could feel their gazes on her back.

She sat down around the fire that seated William and his trusted men, she almost smiled at the surprised look that gazed over Hamish's face as she laid the female deer in front of them. "It seems we'll be eating well tonight." Morrison flashed her a smile.

"I can gut it." Hamish had found his tongue and she merely rolled her eyes. If she was going to be fighting in a war, there was going to be sights worse than deer guts.

"So can I." She took out her own knife from her boot and cut down the center, the action made Hamish move away from the campfire. Looking at William, he gave her a smile and a satisfied nod before following the direction of his redhead friend.

"Just like Neil." She continued to prepare the deer as if she hadn't heard Campbell. "A strong personality."

"What do you know of my father?" The man talked of him like fellow brothers, it irritated her because father had never once mentioned a man named Campbell.

The old man checked over his shoulder before answering her. "You were probably too young to remember; your father went off to war and I fought alongside him." A bond of brothers in arms. She could remember the day he had to leave, he didn't like leaving his three daughters alone, but he had a duty to Scotland. Between the three young girls, they were able to run the household, keep the water and food on the table and tend to the few animals they had on the land. On the day of his return, she could never forget the delight at seeing her father as the family down the road wasn't so lucky. "We could use more fighters like him." Campbell headed to the tent, no doubt planning their next attack - she was surprised they had stayed in the area for so long.

"I wish I was like your father." Morrison's statement caught her off guard, no one wanted to be a dead man, then the understanding sunk in. She glanced beside her at Stephen, he hadn't said a word as he listened to the conversation.

"A sister or wife?"

"Wife." Her heart ached for him. She didn't want to get married, she'd have to be dead before she was caught in an Englishman's bed.

"Did you see her again?" The negative shake of his head made her decision. She was never getting married. "I'm sorry."

"I got my revenge, and I'm fighting for our freedom." Ciara admired the man, the want to keep living still flicking in him.

"We all are." Her gaze slid to Stephen as the quiet words slipped from his mouth. That was one thing any Irish or Scottish could agree on, their reason for fighting.

"Hand it over lass, I'll finish it." Without complaint, she handed the blade to Morrison as he muttered about making a stew for them.

It was later in the afternoon that it finally happened, no man had come close enough to do anything or challenge her but she had heard the talk behind her back. It was Hamish that came at her, holding the tip of his sword at her in a challenge.

William was standing with the rest of the men though his stance was lax, he was merely there to inspect her fighting skills and see whether the lass could hold her own against someone stronger built than herself.

With a steady breath to relax the muscles in her shoulders, she pulled her father's sword from her hip and spun it around, letting the weight flex her wrist to prepare for an attack. Hamish didn't wait for a simple invitation and he struck the sword in her direction. She wasn't dense enough to think her strength could take one of his hits and moved out of the way, letting his body feel the impact of the missed target.

A second time he came up and swung the sword, the first strike had slowed the second and she made the choice to let her sword clash against his, the force of their bodies making their feet almost shift. Ciara couldn't hold the stance for long so she withdraws, sliding her sword around as she was facing his back and kicked the joint of his knee making his own stance jiggle. She didn't give him the chance to completely catch his balance and stuck her sword at the edge of his neck from behind. She was careful not to pierce his skin, if it was anyone else, like an Englishman, she probably wouldn't have hesitated.

"Impressive." William placed his hand on the blade, pushing it away from his friend's throat as Hamish got up from his knees, the man's facial expression showed his dislike. "Will you be up to fighting with us at Stirling?" She nodded her head in answer. "Stephen, find the woman some clothes." He gave the man in question a warning glance before making his way back to their fire with a sorrowful Hamish.

With a quick nod from Stephen, she followed his lead to the tent. "You held your ground with a man Hamish's size, most men would have trouble with that." He pulled out a kilt and a grey shirt handing it to her. "Dress like us and soon we'll have you acting like us." Stephens's eyes run up her body before meeting her eyes. "What else did ya father teach ya?"

"I work better with a bow." The crazy smile was back on his face when she glanced up from the clothes, she couldn't help but smile back.

"I'll be outside the tent." She nodded her head and waited for the fabric to flap back in place before slipping off the ruined dress and trying to tighten her new clothes to her slender figure. She could just imagine her mother rolling in her grave at the sight of her. Everyone had to make sacrifices for something better, if trading in her full-length dress for men's wear and using a sword instead of a needle than she would in the name of freedom.

Once ready, she walked out the tent and watched the facial expression on Stephen's face, it was almost comical. Instead of saying anything, he stepped forward and fixed up the kilt, making it tighter around her form before giving her one more glance over with a nod. "Now let's find you some arrows for tomorrow's battle." With a light hand on the middle of her back, he guided her through the camp.

::::

Her heart was beating heavily in her chest as they stood on the battlefield with the English opposite them, She would be lying if she didn't admit that the sight scared her shitless. Anything could happen on the battlefield, it could be her last breath.

It was only an hour ago that they were getting ready for battle, Stephen was applying the blue substance on her face and helping her arrange her bow, arrows, and sword in a way she could quickly use them. She would have to use her sword more as it was close fighting, not distance. She tried to remember Stephen's words as William rode out to the middle.

'Fight like ya did with Hamish and keep your backside close to us'. She repeated the words, the reassurance that they would be close by, but she knew situations could turn differently with a flick of a blade.

She rubbed her fingers together a William came riding back, unsaddling the horse before taking his spot beside Hamish.

She could hear the mumbling of their fellow Scots men, their own second-guessing for such a fight and the reason for having to shed their blood today. Her thoughts were snapped away from the men as William stepped forward. "And if this is your army, why does it go?"

"We didn't come here to fight for them!" She could hear other men agree with the outspoken one.

"Home! The English are too many!" Another one joining in with the doubt.

"Sons of Scotland! I am William Wallace." The name stirred up mutters through the army as William continued to give them a reason, his voice reaching every one of them.

"William Wallace is seven feet tall!" That brought a smile to her lips, even Hamish had an edge curving at the side of his lips.

" Yes, I've heard. Kills men by the hundreds. And if he were here, he'd consume the English with fireballs from his eyes, and bolts of lightning from his arse." Laughter sounded through the crowd. She admired William, he seems to make light, friendly humor to take their thoughts away from the problem at hand before striking with his reasons. "I am William Wallace! And I see a whole army of my countrymen, here in defiance of tyranny. You've come to fight as free men... and free men you are. What will you do with that freedom? Will you fight?"

"Fight? Against that? No! We will run. And we will live."

"Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live... at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin' to trade all the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take... our freedom!" Cheers run through them as William's words strike through their bodies. Ciara's own nerves settling down and focused to make the English see that they weren't going to let them take their families, lives, and freedom away. "Scotland forever!"

"Scotland forever! Scotland forever! Scotland forever!" She screamed at the top of her lungs with the rest of the army before it died down, waiting for the English to make their first move.

"Ireland forever." She managed to hear Stephens voice before the English archers came out and fired at them.

As quickly as they could every Scot picked up their wooden shields before yelling back at the English men and baring their arses, with no one to look she joined in with the lads. As they righted themselves, the English sent the horsemen, their long wooden spears pointing directly at them as the Scots waited for William's signal.

With the quick speed at Williams's word, they picked up their own carved spears at the last moment and the English dived into them breaking their strong force and the fighting began. More English were sent and they run to meet them in the middle, having their swords ready.

She tried to stay close to either of the men as the war grew thick, she got lost in the bodies and blood - her sword leashing into anyone that was English. She could feel the blood sleek on her skin and the heavy breaths as she kept her strength to stay away from the pointed swords. She tried not to look at their faces, the surprise in their eyes from her gender or their death. She knew there were a few scratches from not moving quickly enough, though she didn't feel the extent of her wounds as she forced on her sword making its way through a neck or stomach.

In the sea of bodies, there was suddenly a heavy weight upon her, pushing her forward onto the ground and landing awkwardly on her back. She didn't get to see what the man looked like as her eyes stayed focused on the sword coming down on her, her right hand reached out for the handle of her sword. Her fingers came in contact with grass, her fingers gripped the threads as she knew the inevitable would come.

Suddenly, Morrison stood in her spot, his sword driving through the man's stomach. The victim's eyes widening with surprise and she knew that could have been her a few moments ago.

Her ears seemed to ring with noise as she looked around the battlefield, there were no English men standing, only Scots. She tried to concentrate on her breathing as the taste of copper filled her mouth. "Ciara!" She glanced up at Stephen's crazed eyes, Morrison standing close behind him. "You alright love?" Her throat felt tight, so she nodded her head, the answer making the men ease up. "Let's get you on a horse and back to camp." When she didn't move, Stephen put an arm around her waist pulled her into him, Morrison already had a horse standing ready.

"She alright?" William's voice came through the haze but she didn't dare look up.

"Just a shocked I'd say." Was Morrison's reply as he steadied the horse, she was placed up front and Stephen saddled behind her. "You want me to stay or go?"

"Just have to talk to the Nobles, you're needed at camp." William's voice sounded as fierce as it did at the start of the battle. "We'll join you in a moment." Morrison and Campbell saddled their horses, kicking them into gear to catch up with Stephen ahead of them.

Ciara wasn't quite sure how she got there; the tent was lit in the darkness. The slight movement to her right made her sit up from the bedroll as Stephen entered the tent giving her a smile, holding the bowl of water and cloth. "You're looking healthier." She winced at the words, she didn't want to be seen as the weak link.

"What happened?" She looked down at her state, her clothes were covered in dried blood and her weapons had been removed.

"You...became unconscious." In other words, she had fainted. She could foggily remember Stephen's voice, Morrison with them as she trembled. "You have a few scratches, there is one minor wound." He nodded to her leg and she pulled the kilt back to see the wrapped cloth she had missed.

"What about William?"

"His fine, same as the rest of the men."

"That's not what I meant?" She half excepted the four of them to be in the tent telling her to pack her belongings and head for the nearest village.

"No one thinks badly of you." Stephen ringed the cloth out. "May I?" She nodded her head and watched as he started to unravel the cloth around her thigh, she winced at the angry cut. "It will have to be cauterized. Morrison!" The dark-haired man entered at the sound of his name, a metal rod already in his hand as he approached her.

"You're going to want this." Morrison handed her the clean cloth as Stephen stood to go outside.

"Where do you think you're going?" Her voice stopped both men in their tracks, her eyes trained on the Irish man. "Get over here." She nodded her head beside her as she leaned up on her elbows.

With some hesitation and a stared look between the men, Stephen moved behind her and she tried to relax against him to keep her mind off the coming event. Taking the cloth from Morrison, she stuck it between her lips and bit hard. Morrison heated the metal, red-hot with the fire in the center of the room before turning in her direction.

Stephen's hands came to rest on her shoulders to hold her down and she closed her eyes. She couldn't explain the pain that burned through her as the metal melted her skin together. "Fucking hell!" Were the first words leaving her mouth as Stephen pulled the cloth from it. "Couldn't we have gone with a thread and needle?" Neither men answered her but she knew the reason, with their movements the threads would break and a larger chance of infection.

With her thoughts racing Ciara didn't notice Morrison leave until the cool cloth was pressed against her skin by Stephen. With the blood been wiped away, she could already feel the purity of her skin, like it was washing away the last few hours from her mind.

The light kiss on the side of her clean neck made a shuttered breath escape her throat, his lips close to her ear. "Would a beautiful woman ever think about coming to almighty Ireland?" The question brought a smile to her lips and she moved her head sideways to rest her forehead against him, a welcomed daze filling her body.

Revised: 25/02/2018