Jamie Stuart

  By nightfall Jamie had put a considerable distance between himself and the clearing. He once again climbed a great tree to sleep, not trusting the ground for rest. He woke to a dawn once more painted with a light frost, though it lacked the intensity to climb more than a few inches up the trunk of the tree. He climbed awkwardly down, dropping the last few feet onto the crisp grass below. As he lifted out of his landing crouch he felt the tip of the sharp spear press firmly into his exposed throat.

 It was a highly polished, superbly worked spearhead attached to a short, perfectly straight shaft. He noted the lack of knots or kinks along the length of it as he slowly let his eyes travel along to the hands that held it. They were strong hands but not gnarled or callused, and the right middle finger sported a large, strangely worked golden ring with some kind of clan or family crest embossed on the crown. He stood, slowly so as to keep his adversary at ease, and looked into the spearwielders face.

 Almost a foot higher than his own, the face he found himself staring at was obviously human. A tangled mass of golden curls fell past incredibly broad shoulders like the main of the fabled beast that the English had boasted of. The arms that held the spear to his throat were like the sturdy boughs of a young oak. The giant wore a stern expression on his on his face which left Jamie in no doubt as to the result of any foolhardy moves on his part. He tensed, ready. At least this was a danger that he understood. His body instinctively took on the stance and awareness of the warrior, his bodyweight seeming to lift from the soles of his feet, ready for instant action. The giant seemed to sense the change in Jamie, recognition passed between them. The spear pressed slightly harder into his throat, though not yet hard enough to break the skin. The Giant spoke first, and amazingly Jamie understood the words, though they were not the words of his native highlands.

 'Hold stranger'.
The words seemed to have a slight musical lilt to them as the giant repeated his command.

 'Hold, or feel the kiss of this blade just once'.

 Jamie felt the honesty of the threat and eased back slightly onto his heels, signalling a relaxation of his intent. The pressure on his throat immediately lessened.

 'My name is Jamie Stuart, of the Clan Stuart. I don't know why I'm here. I died, Now I am here in this land'.

 The giant seemed to be inspecting Jamie's body for signs of injury, looking him up and down.

 'Turn', The giant commanded, 'Slowly'.

 Jamie turned, the spear never left the line of his neck.

 'Back!'.

 Jamie turned back to face the giant.

 'You look very much alive to me'.

 'I died', Jamie reiterated.

 'You may well die'. The giant retorted.

 'One of us may die'. Jamie answered, with more bravado than conviction. Then, an incredible thing happened, the giants face broke into a huge grin, which grew slowly, as if he was desperately trying to control his facial muscles, into a suppressed chuckle. Then, a rumbling seemed to come from the area of his stomach and work it's way up through his throat, eventually leaving his open mouth as a roaring laugh, shaking his huge frame in jerking spasms. The spear never wavered at Jamies throat, the arm that held it seemed unattached to the quivering body of the laughing giant. Jamie began to laugh too. This seemed to make the giant laugh even harder. The spear finally dropped from his throat. Jamie saw his chance and took it without hesitation. He brought his knee up savagely into the giants groin. The laughter suddenly stopped as the giants face slowly turned from red to deep purple as the shock of the blow worked it's way into his senses. Jamie didn't wait, the spear was waving about without purpose as the giant began to slowly sink to his knees, winded by the surprise attack. He grabbed the shaft of the spear just behind the shining head and pulled with all of his strength.

 Two things happened simultaneously.

 The silvery head of the spear turned suddenly white hot, had any part of it been touching Jamie's flesh he would have suffered serious burns before he could have flung it away. At the same time the giants foot came up into Jamie's throat with a vicious snap. He looked up from the level of the short grass where his head had suddenly found itself to see the giant standing over him, the spear safely back within the grasp of his huge right hand. It took Jamie nearly half a minute to realise what was wrong.

 He wasn't breathing!.

 The kick to his throat had closed his windpipe. He gasped silently for air, mouth gaping like some stranded fish. His hands came up automatically to his injured throat and he writhed violently in panic. Stars were flashing around in his head as he began to pass out through lack of oxygen. He watched helplessly as the giant leaned over his prostrate body to deliver the killing blow. The last thing he saw was the shining spear being thrust at his bared throat.

 When Jamie came round his first thought was that he had passed once more to another world. Then his vision cleared and he recognised the gnarled tree as the same one that he had climbed for rest. Then the pain came. He lifted his hand to his throat and found the thick shaft of grass  that appeared to be growing there. He moved to snatch it away. Gentle hands restrained him from doing so.

 'No, it enables you to breathe, leave it, until the bruising heals'.

 It was the giant, still here, still standing over him.

 He tried to speak, to ask why the giant hadn't killed him, but the pain doubled and no sound came from his lips. The giant spoke again.

 'I will go for the easepain leaf, while I am away do not touch the reed, it will last until I return. If it blocks, you will die'.

 The giant moved off through the forest, still clutching the cursed spear and Jamie was left, alone and utterly defenceless beneath the tree where he had spent the previous night sleeping. It seemed incredible, but instead of killing him outright while he lay defenceless the giant had felt his distress and immediately performed this miracle with the reed, inserting it into his throat to let the air enter his lungs even though his throat had been closed over. Jamie thought of the lives he could have saved if only he had had knowledge of this magic when he had lived in the Highlands. Dear friends, it seemed, had died needlessly. Great chieftains had perished prematurely, unable to fulfil great dreams of unification because of petty, unnecessary violence. The late afternoon sun beat down mercilessly and the rank whiff of rotting vegetation stung his nostrils as he drifted in and out of brief and troubled spells of fretful forgetfulness. Despite the discomfort he felt and the growing soreness of the angry wound in his throat, eventually he slept, chancing the invasive nightmares which thankfully never came.

 Unfamiliar star patterns graced a clear sky when Jamie was shaken roughly awake by the giant, clutching a handful of the rare easpain leaves, waving them in front of his eyes triumphantly.

 'Wake, Clansman, you must drink this'. He offered his own wooden cup filled with the foul smelling greenish liquid made from the pounded easepain leaves and rank stream water. 'Or the dark will take you while you sleep. Come, drink or die'.

 Jamie waved a weak refusal at the giants insistence. The welcoming warmth of his clan beckoned, he longed to let go. He dimly remembered the reed which had somehow wormed it's way through the skin of his throat and prevented him from joining with his fellow clansmen. If only he could rid himself of the evil reed he would be free, he could leave this accursed land and return to the Highlands and his Clan, where he belonged.

His hand reached up to brush aside the reed in his throat. The giant sprung, spilling the easepain.

 'Oh no, not so fast young one, there's time enough to die later'. He caught Jamie's hands and pinned them to his sides as he lay struggling feebly in the giants iron grip. It was some time later, as Jamie lapsed back into exhausted sleep that the giant released his arms and set about grinding the remaining leaves into a new broth of easepain while keeping a wary eye on the sleeping Scotsman.

 The next time he woke the reed was no longer in his throat and he was breathing easy. He brought a hand up to the expected wound but found no trace of injury.

 'You have amazing powers of recovery'.

 He spun to the sound of the giants voice behind him. The giant was sitting on the grass outside the crude shelter of branches and leaves that he had erected over Jamie while he had slept. It was night once more.

 'How long have I slept?'.

 'A night and a day, do you still wish to die?'.

 Jamie blushed, embarrassed now by his previous thoughts of ending it all. Surprisingly, he wanted to live, desperately, he needed to survive.

 'You saved my life'.

 'I nearly took your life, you are fragile in combat but you recover from your wounds with a haste like I have never seen before, and you heal without scars. How can this be?, you are not of this land'.

 'I told you, I died in a great battle and now I am here'. Jamie stood to show his clan colours in the light of the giants glowing fire.

 'My name is James Stuart of the Clan Stuart, defenders of the highlands of Scotland from the insurgent English and their mongrel mercenaries'.

 'The English are fortunate to be free of such an enemy, Clansman. If the rest of the Stuart Clan have such bravery then surely the battle will be well won'.

 Jamie sat beside the fire, shoulders slumped in resigned reflection of the bitter truth which had begun to dawn upon the Clan leaders a long time before the fateful day at Culloden.

 'I fear not', He whispered. 'The English are many and have masterful weapons. I fear for my Clan'.

  'What weapons can defeat the power of a mighty spear wielded by a brave heart'. The giant stood and flexed his great muscles, displaying his enormous size. He waved his spear aloft, crying out to the heavens. He was indeed a fearful sight to behold.

 'I am ********, The Undefeated, Spearwielder, from whom no man nor beast nor wielder of magic has ever wrested this mighty spear. Behold, Clansman'.

He placed the spear upright against the tree and paced out four steps from the base of the trunk. He turned to face the tree, his face transformed into a fearsome mask of concentrated intent. A sound like the subliminal growl of a stalking lynx grew from his throat. It was a sound that Jamie never wished to hear directed at himself. He felt the hairs on his neck bristle in tense anticipation of rushing danger. Age old instincts flooded through his trembling body, the urge to flee, anywhere, in any direction was almost impossible to ignore. He rooted his feet firmly to the ground and stared wild-eyed at the source of his naked fear. His vision blurred as the forest seemed to close in  around him, raw and naked danger seemed to permeate the very air he forced into scorched lungs. As suddenly as it had started the terrible fear subsided. When he was able once again to take in what his eyes were seeing he saw that the spear was once more firmly in the grip of the giants massive hand. He was certain that the giant had not moved from the spot he had halted at after resting the spear against the tree. The spear had not moved, he had sensed no movement, yet it was undeniable, the spear was in the giants grasp. With a triumphant yell the giant once more hefted the spear aloft and laughed to the heavens.

 'Still here Clansman?', He looked down on Jamie, still trembling as the fear subsided. 'Be not ashamed of your fear, but wear it well and learn. You are indeed one of the brave Clansman. No man has ever stood to hear the spearwielders challenge'.

 He walked to Jamie and clasped a huge hand about his shoulder, completely engulfing the trembling limb.

 'You are the first to stand'.

 Jamie swallowed heavily, his voice finally returning.

 'I..., my legs...., I would have fled, my legs just wouldn't work'.

 That familiar rumbling sound began again within the giants huge chest. He lifted his face to the trees as the laughter welled up and poured forth in a mighty roar which shocked a flock of brightly coloured birds, resting up high in the treetops into sudden flight. Jamie had no designs on acquiring the weapon for his own use this time. The absurdity of his earlier attempt suddenly rose up from within and the despair which had been fermenting deep down inside found respite. He was here and somehow alive, and he had found a fearsome companion to travel with. Relief washed over him and despite his blushing embarrassment he eventually joined the giant, laughing uncontrollably at some hidden joke which although was perfectly apparent to the giant, escaped him completely.

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