Thread: Narnia in Need (Rivine and Gunner)

As the sun had risen in the sky warmth had spread across the glens and moors of Scotland, but it did nothing to warm the heart of Gabriel Forsyth . The man sat beside the smoldering fire that he and his compatriots had set the night before to cook their meal and to provide them warmth, but just like Scotland's chances the fire was starting to die. Shaking his head as he let out a sigh, Gabe stirred up the embers, watching them glow, then reached over to the small pile of twigs nearby, adding them to the embers and watching as the flames started, small at first, but soon taking hold, dancing along the twigs, consuming them. We are the embers. We must stay alive. Charles will return. Our people will become the fire and we will scorch the English, burn them until they are naught but ash. His thoughts had been interrupted as one of the men beside him stirred, waking as the light of the sun shone on his face. As the others woke Gabriel busied himself with helping them, making their morning oats and getting their few belongings packed. Gabe traveled with six others, all of them Scotsmen like himself, all of them believers in the Stuart cause. Though he was not the highest among them in social rank, Gabriel had held the highest rank in the regiment they had all served in together and, as such, the six had elected him to continue to be their leader. So led him he had. It had been an entire winter since the Prince had departed Scotland's shores, but still the belief in the cause remained strong for Gabriel. It did not take long for the Scots to eat and pack up their camp. They had become accustomed to packing light and moving quickly, it was how they had stayed ahead of the redcoats. He and his lads had come south to investigate a rumor that they had heard that one of the earls that had turned against the Prince would be getting himself a pretty English lass as a reward. Why should a traitor get a pretty English prize? So Gabe had devised himself quite the little plan. If the rumors were true than he and his lads would find the lass and spirit her away, somewhere hidden, and ask her wealth English father for her dowry to get her back. With the coin they could buy arms and powder, equipment for themselves and others, and continue to thumb the English bastards in the eye until they had enough. The men traveled across the moor for most of the day, moving at a steady jog, their boots leaving nary a trace of their passage. They stopped at a few homes along the way, asking for news at times if people seemed to be sympathetic to them, moving on from homes that didn't seem to keen on having them there. But by talking to a few people along the road they had learned that a small English part was moving north, a woman riding with them. Curious about this Gabriel lead his men parallel to the road, wanting to see who these folks might be. It was only a little after midday that they found the English as they stopped for luncheon. Gabe and his lads watched them, noting as the women moved away from the soldiers. But what he had also noticed was the fancy Englishman, the one with the general's braids on his shoulders. This, it seemed, was the party that they sought. Smiling a bit Gabe turned to look at one of his fellows, We circle around and grab the last. Finn is with me to grab her. The rest of you watch our back. Having said that he led the men off, skirting around the English, who seemed entranced by their food, confident that the lands they were in were safe. They were wrong. Gabe and Finn moved up behind the two women and, swiftly, they came up and grasped them. Forsyth clasped a hand over the mouth of the woman dressed in the fancier clothes, growling into one of her ears, Be still lass and we will not... But his words were cut short as a shot rang out. Glancing back over his shoulder Gabe could see the smoke curling around one of his lads, the one who had a pistol extended outward. Following the line of the pistol he then saw a redcoat laying on the ground and growled out, Shite. Dragging the woman with him he yelled, Let's go! Move!