Loyal to the Laird at Christmas

by Fiona MacEwen

  “And I fear he may well be a thorn in mine too,” Blayne replied, “I am grateful to have found a friend in ye though, Isla. Thank ye for helpin’ me today.”

  “And I shall help ye again if ye wish it,” she replied.

  “Perhaps we shall walk out together tomorrow,” he suggested, and she nodded to him.

  “Aye, up onto the moors perhaps. But now I must be going, my parents will be waitin’ and ye must get back to yer books,” she said, smiling at him.

  “Aye, and avoidin’ Hamish and his young friend,” Blayne replied, and he bid her good day.

  She watched as he made his way into the castle. He dismounted from his horse and was leading the animal by its reins. How out of place he looked amidst the grandeur of the castle over which he was Laird. This was no place for him, and Isla knew that if he did not step up to the mark, he would soon find himself ousted or worse. She sighed and looked down at the sprig of heather in her tunic. What would James have done in such circumstances? He would certainly never have allowed Hamish Mackintosh to usurp his authority so blatantly. Blayne needed to learn how to be a Laird and Isla resolved to teach him, for she would far rather Blayne Gordon her Laird than Hamish or one of his unpleasant friends.

  Chapter 5

  Christmas Approaches

  The next day, Isla left her parent’s croft early and walked to the castle. A mist was hanging over the trees and there was a cold wind about the place. Fresh snow lay on the ground and the water in the brook was almost frozen over, like a long mirror stretching off towards the loch beyond.

  The castle was quiet, a few servants making ready the breakfast and in the Great Hall there was no sign of Blayne or Una. Only Hamish Mackintosh and Robert Craig sat together close by the fire.

  “Ah, Isla. We were just talkin’ about ye, lass. Come and sit with us,” Hamish said, beckoning her over.

  Isla looked at them warily, for there was something wholly unpleasant about the young Robert Craig. He had a scar down his left cheek. Which could have been the possession of a decent man. But it was the sneer in his face which made him appear so vulgar, as though he were eyeing her up as a possession or prize to be claimed.

  “Robert has come from the west of the highlands. He is a relative of yours, or would have been had ye married James,” Hamish said, as Robert stood and bowed to her.

  “A terrible tragedy, James was a cousin of mine by some degrees,” he said, his voice sounding far from the sincerity which he expressed.

  “Aye, it was a tragedy,” Isla said, seating herself opposite them.

  “And one I hope to make amends for,” he continued, “ye see, Hamish has invited me here in the hope that ye might see fit to agree to another marriage within the Mackintosh clan.”

  Isla could not believe what she was hearing. James was hardly cold in the ground and already there was the suggestion of marriage. She shook her head and turned away.

  “Think about it now, lass. Ye are nothin’ but a poor peasant, really. Ye just happened to have caught the attentions of the Laird and be a friend to his mother. What Robert is offerin’ is somethin’ that will nae come again, lass,” Hamish said.

  “The man I loved with all my heart is gone, cruelly taken from me and ye suggest marriage to someone I have barely spoken two words to? I may be a ‘peasant’ as ye put it, Hamish Mackintosh, but I will nae be a pawn in yer games,” Isla replied.

  “Games? What game might that be, lass?” he said, his smile turning to a grimace as both men looked at one another.

  “Ye have decided that the new Laird is nae up to yer standards and so ye plot and scheme to remove him. I can see it in yer face. A cousin of James’s appears from the west and ye hope that by merryin’ me ye will somehow find a reason to have Blayne removed. I have seen the way ye look at him with contempt,” Isla said, her anger rising.

  “Well look at him yerself, lass. The man is nay Laird. He comes from the south and cannae even ride a horse or shoot a bow straight. Our clan is a noble one and he will bring it down in disgrace,” Hamish replied, spitting into the fire.

  “Better that than a man like ye or him to bring it down through war and violence,” Isla said, rising from her chair and turning her back upon them.

  “Life could be made very difficult for ye if ye dinna agree,” Hamish said, “think of yer parents.”

  “My life is hard enough already without my James,” she replied, “there is little ye could dae to make it worse,” and she stormed from the Great Hall.

  She could feel nothing but hatred and contempt for Hamish. He had always played games, at one moment pretending to be kind and noble with the best interests of the clan at heart. But when the mask was removed, it was clear he had only one desire, and that was to see himself in a position of influence. Robert Craig was no friend—he was just a convenience. A puppet that Hamish could play as he sought to take further control of the clan. Isla would not be a pawn in his game and if he thought she could so easily be persuaded into marriage then he was sorely mistaken.

  She made her way back towards the courtyard, tears in her eyes. As she passed the doors of the chapel she paused, looking through towards the tomb where James had been laid. She was surprised to see a figure kneeling there in prayer. It was Blayne, his hands were upon the stone edifice of the Laird, and his head was bowed. She paused, watching him. It was as though he were in sad lament, or offering up supplications for help, his hands clasped together.

  Quietly she entered the chapel and went to kneel next to him. He startled, turning his head. But she smiled gently and crossed herself, clasping her hands together as they kneeled in silence. For several minutes they prayed together, before Blayne sighed and looked up.

  “Ye probably think me a fool kneelin’ here like this, lass,” he said, as she looked up.

  A single candle flickered by the altar and the dull morning light was coming through the stained glass, casting its shadows across the tombs about. She shook her head and smiled at him.

  “The fool is the one who does nae pray,” she said, standing up.

  “I … I just thought perhaps there might be some guidance in it, that is all. I feel hopeless and all I want is to return south. I was happy there, but I am nae happy here,” he said.

  “Then ye would leave us to the mercies of Hamish and his wicked friends,” she said, and she explained the altercation which had just taken place in the Great Hall.

  “The man is a wicked and unpleasant fiend. Ye will nae marry the lad, will ye?” Blayne said, looking at her with a sorrowful expression.

  “Nay, I will nae. I could never marry anyone if it were nae for love. James and I loved one another and to marry for anythin’ but love, is to be untrue to yerself,” she replied, shaking her head.

  “Then I pray he dinna force ye. There is much wickedness seething beneath the surface here, I can feel it,” Blayne replied, as the two walked together from the chapel and out into the courtyard.

  Several of the clansmen looked him up and down with disdain. As though the initial rejoicing at his arrival had now turned to nothing but contempt. With Christmas approaching it seemed that the new Laird was unwelcome in his own castle and that his only friend was Isla. She knew this, for she had heard enough whisperings amongst the ordinary clansmen to confirm it. They disliked the fact their new Laird could not ride, nor had any interest in the hunt or riding out to war. The castle library was no place for a leader of men to while away his days, and in the long history of the Mackintosh clan, no Laird had seemed so ineffectual as Blayne Gordon.

  “Come now, Laird. We shall walk upon the heathers,” Isla said, taking him by the hand and leading him towards the gatehouse.

  “Will I nae be chastised for usurpin’ some duty I am supposed to perform? Is there nay hunt upon which to ride out with today or some act the Laird must perform?” Blayne said, smiling at her.

  “Nay, nae today and even if there were ye would shrink away from it,” she replied, returning his smile.

 
; They walked out of the gates, the guards standing to attention as they passed. But Isla saw the look they gave the Laird and the way in which they smirked at one another. It was as though there were a conspiracy brewing. One which would soon erupt in rebellion or worse. She sighed and led Blayne towards the moorland path, which stretched up towards the crags above.

  “Why are we takin’ this path?” he asked, as they climbed up high above the castle.

  “So ye can see what is yers by right,” she replied, turning and pointing out across the landscape.

  Down below was the castle, its turrets and battlements rising tall above the tress. The forest stretched endlessly along the glen, the brook winding its way through like a silvery snake. Snow covered everything, and the mountains appeared sparkling and jewel covered, rising high about them. The sun had broken through the clouds now and it was almost dazzling, as Isla and Blayne looked upon all that was his.

  “The Mackintosh’s have held this land for generations by right,” she said. “Ye can see the crofts and village along the track there where the smoke rises. And my parent’s cottage in the trees. The castle looks so small from up here.”

  “Aye, tis’ a spectacular sight and make nay mistake, lass,” he said.

  “And … and there is where he fell,” Isla said, turning and pointing up the track towards the crag above.

  “James? Tis’ a sad story, and I am sorry,” Blayne said, and he put his arm around her.

  She had not expected such an act and was startled for a moment. But his touch felt kind and gentle, reminding her of the man whose last breath had been breathed above them. There was a tear in her eye, and she brushed it away, shaking her head and telling him she was just being silly.

  “There is nay stupidity in grief, lass. Ye have every right to mourn. Yer James was taken from ye cruelly upon the mountainside and every time ye see this crag and look up to the mountains ye are reminded of him,” he said.

  “I am reminded of him every day,” she said, kneeling, his arm pulling away from her and scrabbling in the snow.

  “What are ye lookin’ for?” he asked.

  She looked up, a tear once more running down her cheek. But in her hand, she held a sprig of heather. The white heather, the ever-present reminder of the man she had loved and lost.

  “The heather, ye see? It grows white here, even beneath the snow. James was to bring me some on that day. He did so, it was clasped in his hand as though he meant for me to have it even in death. I will always wear a sprig to remind myself of him,” she said, tucking the fresh sprig into her tunic and standing up.

  “Why did ye bring me up here?” Blayne asked her, as they stood together once more looking up at the crags above.

  “Because ye are the only one who understands. I dinna ken why, but I ken it,” she replied, turning to him and taking his hand. “Have ye known heartbreak yerself?”

  Blayne paused for a moment.

  “Aye, my sister. She died of a fever when she was very young. There is nothin’ that any of us could have done for her. She was a bonnie lass, as kind and gentle as any. I loved her so very much, but she was cruelly taken from us,” he replied, swallowing his emotion and pursing his lips.

  “Tis’ alright, I have seen me cry often enough. Tis’ a terrible thing to lose one so close to ye and then to find yerself here, away from all that is familiar to ye,” she replied.

  “Aye, well. Ye are makin’ it more bearable, though I fear the comin’ days will not be without their difficulties,” he replied.

  “Ye are right about that,” she said, as snow began to fall from the darkening clouds above. “We had best make our way down to the castle. The weather is movin’ in down the glen and soon we will be caught up in a storm if we dinna hurry.”

  “Aye, and I dinna wish to be stuck on the mountain,” he replied, as together they hurried back down the track towards the castle.

  By the time they reached the gates it was snowing heavily, and the wind had picked up, sending an icy blast about them.

  “Ye had best take shelter here, lass. Ye cannae return home when the weather is like this. Come, share the hospitality of the Great Hall with me, perhaps we shall find Una there too,” he said, beckoning her towards the gate.

  The two made their way inside and they did find Una, sitting by the fire as Blayne had suggested. She smiled at them, and Isla embraced her.

  “We have been up the mountainside towards the crag. James has sent me some fresh heather,” Isla said, showing Una the sprig on her tunic.

  “And I think he will always dae so, lass,” Una replied, smiling at Isla and bidding her sit nearby. “And so ye have seen the place where my son fell, Laird,” and she turned to Blayne, who nodded.

  “Aye, and a sad place it is too. If only it were not my lot to stand in his place, then I fear we would all of us be happier,” Blayne replied.

  “Daenae let Hamish Mackintosh provoke ye. Stand firm, he is a coward and a bully. Diplomacy is nae solution, ye must be strong,” she said, just as Hamish entered the Great Hall, followed by Robert Craig.

  “Still here, Isla? Have ye thought anymore about my proposal?” he said, smirking at her, as Robert laughed.

  “The answer is still nay, and it will nae change. Ye may be certain of that,” Isla replied.

  “What proposal is this?” Una said, a puzzled expression crossing her face.

  “Did Isla nae tell ye, Una? She is to be married. To this fine young lad here,” Hamish replied, pointing Robert.

  Una rolled her eyes and laughed, shaking her head as in disbelief.

  “What nonsense, Hamish. Dae ye think that after betrothal to my son, Isla would settle for a mere boy who has nae proved himself to anyone. I daenae think so,” she replied.

  “Daenae be so sure, Una. Isla may find herself without the favor of the castle if she continues to refuse,” Hamish replied.

  “Isla is welcome here so long as I am Laird,” Blayne said, rising from his place and staring defiantly at Hamish, who laughed.

  “Then ye must hope that ye are Laird long enough to ensure so,” he replied, his hand reaching to his sword hilt, as he looked menacingly at Blayne.

  “I am Laird here and ye will show me the proper respect,” Blayne said, his own hand going to his sword hilt, as the two squared up to one another.

  “Enough now,” Isla said, stepping forward, “there is to be nay violence here, not now.”

  Hamish smirked and turned to Robert Craig; whose own sword was half drawn. He shook his head and turned again to the Laird with a smirk on his face.

  “Just ye remember, Laird. This clan seeks a strong leader and if ye cannae be that leader then …” and his words trailed off.

  “Get out, Hamish,” Una cried. “Ye dae yerself nay honor is this nonsense. Go on, away with ye now.”

  Hamish and Robert left the Great Hall, laughing to one another as Blayne shook his head. He slumped down in a chair by the fire and placed his head in his hands, as several of the castle dogs rested their heads on him, as though attempting to comfort him.

  “Well, it seems I have only the dogs as loyal clansmen,” he said, fondling one of the animal’s ears.

  “They were James’ dogs and he wouldnae ever have allowed such behavior from one of his clansmen,” Una said. “Hamish is nothin’ but a bully and ye must show yer authority over him, Blayne. Otherwise ye will never have the respect of the clan.”

  “But he has all the men under his influence. I see the way they look at me, they hate me,” Blayne replied.

  “But they will respect ye if ye stand up to him,” Una said, and Isla nodded.

  She knew the clansmen, and she knew that they would respect Blayne if he could just take the courage to make a stand. Otherwise they would follow Hamish and that would lead to dark days for them all.

  “Ye must be brave,” Isla said, but Blayne just shook his head and fondled the dogs who whined and curled themselves about his legs.

  “And if I am nae brave?” he a
sked, looking up at her.

  “Then it will be the worst for us all,” she replied.

  Chapter 6

  Treachery at Christmas

  The snow lay thick about the castle as Christmas Eve arrived. The nobles of the clan had gathered for the feast and the Great Hall was busy with servants rushing back and forth as the preparations were made in earnest. It was Una who had taken responsibility for organizing the festivities and the Laird had retreated to the library, where a fire was kindled, and he was huddled in a chair with a book.

  Isla was helping Una and would be a guest of honor that night, seated alongside Blayne and Una at the high table. Hamish Mackintosh had insisted that he too be given such an honor and had instructed Una to have a place prepared for Robert Craig who had been skulking about the castle as though he were already in possession of his promised prize.

  Isla had ignored him—in fact she had been positively rude to him. Any time the young lad approached her she simply turned her back upon him and gave no answer to any of his questions. His enthusiasm for her remained undiminished, and he began to follow her about the castle, to the extent that she had seriously thought about not attending the festivities that evening. But to do so would be to leave Blayne without the support of a friend and she had no intention of doing that.

  Hamish Mackintosh continued to refer to Robert as Isla’s betrothed and dismissing Blayne at every turn. He was so openly hostile to the Laird that it seemed inevitable that a fight would occur, and as the guest began to gather Isla confided her fears in Una, who nodded her head sadly.

  “Aye, lass, I have thought this too. Hamish is becoming more confident as each day passes and all I hear of are mutterings against the Laird. The presence of that young lad does nae help matters either,” she replied, as she directed several of the servants with barrels of liquor for the evening.

  “He is odious. All he does is follow me about the place. I am sick of it,” Isla replied, shaking her head as Robert Craig entered the Great Hall.