Rainnuine de Playfaire
GLASTYN MACALPINE WRITES:
Rainnuine told us her tale as we rested around the fire one night in the autumn of 1296 (AS 31). I can only assume it is the truth. Since her disappearance, there are few who might vouch for this story. This is who she told us she was:
(RAINNUINE SPEAKS)
I was born in 1252 into a long line of Caledoni who knew Alba as home for many generations before me. From whence we hailed before that I will never know, but we are all fair of hair and green of eye. Or were. My mother died giving birth to the seventh of her children, my sixth brother. That brother and all of his brothers were murdered, along with my father, by the demon Sassenach. I was orphaned at ten years or twelve, I cannot be sure. I do know that I have thought of little else since that time but to avenge the deaths of my family and my countrymen in this endless fight for Scotland. And I know that I could read well and write well enough from an early age and, ultimately, that became my stock in trade and saved my hide on more than one dangerous occasion. I have lived in Ettrick Forest or something like it since our family lands were taken. My companions are outlaws, foxes and owls, witches, cattle thieves, and freedom fighters. I break the law for the mending of my land. I listen, I write things down, I travel silently by night, I deliver messages. I pretend to be less than I am to further the cause of those who must lead.
These are other things you can know about me: I have had a tattoo of an ancient symbol since I was a bairn. I would have been the head of my family, according to the old ways, had my family survived. I have known William, the man who champions the causes dear to my heart, all my life. I have been to Eire. I trust my deerhound more than I trust any of you. I can handle a knife and once gutted an Englishman's destrier before his rider could gut me. I laugh to think that I have grown up to become an angry, half-mad, plaid-wrapped savage, but cannot change who I am. I ate what is known as an orange once and will never, ever forget it.
GLASTYN MACALPINE WRITES:
Some say she was a spy, but others say she was more than a little deaf and therefore could not have been a very good spy. I observed her to be more than a little forgetful and I cannot fathom how that could be a positive trait in such a line of work. All I have to prove her presence--spy or not--is a copy of the letter which follows--alas, not written to me, rather to someone in power. Given the decade that has passed since its writing, I must leave you to divine who might have been the recipient of the original.
RAINNUINE'S LETTER TO ?:
My Lord:
I send this by this unusual messenger, trusting my note will arrive safely in your hands. One can rely on so little in these dark times, I can only pray that you will soon read these words. I may never know for certain that you have.
The nights in these wretched woods have been quiet since you and your compatriots departed. Our little band misses the companionship you all brought us. Many is the time it feels to us as though we are the only ones fighting for a free Scotland--it warms my heart and strengthens my resolve to know that we are not alone and that there are men like your good self waging the same exhausting battle even now. When next I feel weak and discouraged, I shall think of the fire in your eyes as you spoke of the land we both love, and I shall be able to go on.
And now to the business at hand:(although my heart tells me that it is not only politics at stake here)--your proposal that we rule together one day. I have no need to consider the consequences of your becoming king. I knew from the first moment I saw you that you were made of the stuff of kings, and now, after having spent time with you, am only more certain. To be at once fierce and gentle, both passionate and reasonable, as demanding as giving--these are indeed royal traits and I need no convincing that you are fit to rule. On my own again last night, though, my exaltation subsided and I had cause to examine my future part in this and I faltered.