Finlay could see the castle now through the mist, its towers and turrets, the keep at its center, and the banners hanging over the gates. But he could make out no soldiers guarding the walls, and there was no shout of danger or raising of the alarm. It worried him, and he wondered just what his uncle was doing in allowing them to come so close.
But in the distance, there came the sounds of horse’s hooves, and a moment later, they were surrounded. Finlay drew his sword, Murdoch and the other soldiers following suit, and, in the confusion, several of the horses reared up, almost throwing their riders as they did so.
“Who goes there, friend or foe,” a voice called out through the mist, and, to his horror, Finlay realized it was Dougal who had led the charge against them.
“Dougal MacCallum, tis’ I, Finlay, and it seems that ye have been busy since last we saw one another,” Finlay replied, as Dougal rode forward, a look of astonishment on his face as he emerged from the mist.
“It cannae be,” he said, climbing down from the horse’s back, a look of utter disbelief upon his face.
“Why? Dae ye think ye have seen a ghost then?” Finlay asked, “for I assure ye that I am as real as any man here, and I am keen to know more of what has happened here in my absence.”
“But the Laird told us ye were dead,” Dougal said, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, as though he expected the apparition before him to disappear.
“He convinced ye all that I was dead, but it seems nae one of ye thought to make certain for yerselves if it were true or nae,” Finlay replied.
“I … but … what happened to ye, and who are these men?” Dougal asked, looking at Murdoch and the others with suspicion.
“These are our allies, men who came to my aid in my hour of need. Loyal men of the MacDonald clan,” Finlay said, and at the mention of that name, Dougal recoiled in horror.
“MacDonalds? Here, at Kilchurn, and he turned to the others who now advanced menacingly, their swords held in front of them, looks of anger on their faces.
“What quarrel dae ye have with the MacDonalds, Dougal? What harm have they done to ye?” Finlay said, angered by his friend’s words and confused by this strange hatred.
“I told yer father that peace with these people would only bring trouble. It was a MacDonald who killed my father, and if we make peace with them, we do dishonor to the legacy of all those before us who have fought against them,” Dougal said.
“Such things are in the past, our clans have fought together since then, and now we will usher in a new era of peace,” Finlay replied, but Dougal only spat upon the ground and turned away.
“Nay, Finlay, I will nae see this happen,” he snarled, and Finlay was horrified by the look of anger and hatred upon his face.
“Ye will tell my uncle that I have returned, Dougal, and that I am most displeased by what has happened. He may leave in peace if he chooses, but he will relinquish his claim upon the clan and upon this castle. I have come to claim what is rightfully mine, and I will have it come what may,” Finlay said, dismounting from his horse and approaching Dougal, who seemed so very different from the man he had known before.
His clothes were different, of fine quality, and he had a new sword and dagger at his belt. He had command of men too, and now it seemed he intended to make use of his power come what may. But there was a look of fear in his eyes, as though he saw the peril in Finlay’s return and what it would mean given his treachery.
“Dae ye think yer uncle will give up his claim so readily?” Dougal replied, and Finlay shook his head.
“I have nay doubt he will need some persuasion, now ride back to the castle and bring him forth, Tell him that his nephew wishes to speak with him on a most urgent matter,” Finlay said, and Dougal seemed to falter.
“I … but he is Laird now and ye …” he began, but Finlay raised his sword in anger.
“Would ye truly betray me, Dougal? Dae I mean nothin’ to ye? Does our friendship mean nothin’ to ye? I believed that ye were loyal to me, that ye would be the first to rally to my banner upon my return. How it pains me to think of yer disloyalty and yer betrayal,” he cried out.
“I have nae betrayed ye, I mourned for ye too, I thought that ye were dead, I believed that ye were dead when I escaped from Maggie McClean and her bandits,” Dougal replied.
“But ye made nay attempt to rescue me or beg my uncle to come to my aid,” Finlay said, and Dougal hung his head.
“I … I was a coward,” he said, and Finlay nodded.
“Aye, ye were a coward, Dougal. Ye abandoned me in my hour of need, and it seems that our friendship meant nothin’ to ye, but now I ask ye to make amends for that. Bring my uncle forth and tell him that the rightful heir of the MacCallums has returned,” Finlay replied.
Reluctantly, Dougal turned, signaling to his men to follow him, Murdoch and the MacDonald soldiers now forming a circle around Finlay and Elaine.
“Ye are takin’ a grave risk, Laird, for if yer uncle comes in force and the men are loyal to him, Murdoch said, and Finlay nodded.
“Aye, then I shall have walked straight into a trap,” he replied, as Dougal and the others disappeared into the mist.
“We are nae enough men to defend ye against all oncomers,” Murdoch warned, glancing nervously around him.
“Then return to yer master, ye have done yer duty in escortin’ me here. Return to Callum and assure him again of my fidelity toward him. But I will remain here, and I will nae be cowed by the threat of my uncle,” Finlay replied, but Murdoch laughed.
“Nay, Laird, we have made our pledge and promise to ye. We shall stand with ye, but I suggest that the mistress be taken to safety,” he said, and, and Elaine shook her head.
“Dae ye think I shall be cowed by that man? Nay, sir, I shall nae. Ye quickly forget that it was I who killed Maggie McClean, and I am nae about to run away when victory is in our sight,” she said, standing defiantly at Finlay’s side.
“Spoken like a true MacCallum,” Finlay said, smiling at her.
“Though still be name a McRob, my father’s daughter,” Elaine said, slipping her hand into Finlay’s and turning to him with a defiant gaze.
Around them, the mist swirled, and Finlay could barely see the castle battlements above as they waited to know their fate. It seemed an age before the sound of the gates opening echoed across the moorlands, and horse’s hooves galloped across the heathers.
Finlay drew his sword, the others forming a tight-knit circle around him, Elaine holding her dagger courageously in her hand. This was it, the final battle, and Finlay knew that the moments to come could mean the difference between life and death. But, with Elaine at his side, he knew that nothing else mattered. If he were with her, then he would gladly face death to save her and to save his honor. Nothing else now mattered.
Out of the mist, there now emerged the riders, men at arms whom Finlay knew all too well. These were his father’s men, the same that had so recently sworn their allegiance to him and who now rode at his uncle’s command. The horses were pulled up, confused looks upon the faces of the men, as Finlay’s uncle rode to their head.
“So, nephew, ye have returned from the grave,” he said, laughing and pointing his sword toward Finlay, who stepped forward from the posse of men, Elaine at his side.
“I am nay ghost, uncle, and I never was. Ye know that well enough. But what is the meaning of all this? What have ye done here?” Finlay asked.
“I have done what is mine to dae by rights. When we learned of yer death, I was proclaimed Laird, ye cannae return here and take up yer claim again,” his uncle replied.
“A death which ye yerself ensured occurred. How much did ye pay Maggie McClean to spirit me away? What price was I worth, uncle?” Finlay said, stepping forward, his sword pointed at his uncle, who grimaced and backed away.
“Ye were meant to be dead. That woman was meant to see to that,” he said.
“Aye, and now she herself is dead, and yer payment to her is worthless. Renounc
e yer claim upon the title, and I shall allow ye to go free. I will show mercy where ye couldnae show it, uncle,” Finlay said.
“But ye are only one man, Finlay, what dae ye expect to happen here?” his uncle said, and Finlay turned to the other clansmen, holding up his sword and addressing them.
“Friends, loyal men of the MacCallum clan, dae ye see what has happened here? I am yer rightful Laird, and this impostor has usurped me. He has told ye that I am dead and that yer loyalties must change. But I tell ye that I am very much alive, and I have returned to take what is rightfully mine. Now, will ye side with me or will ye continue with this old pretender who would plunge ye into war and see to it that peace never comes to our fair country,” Finlay said.
Murmur and muttering went up all around, the clansmen whispering to one another, as Finlay eyed his uncle cautiously. He was like a caged animal, capable of striking anytime, the anger evident in his eyes.
“Old pretender? When I waited in the shadow of yer father all these years, when I strove to dae all I could to help ye and made it my business to come to yer aid when he died,” Finlay’s uncle replied.
“Ye seized the first opportunity to have me removed, ye have plotted and planned this wickedness, and now ye refuse to accept that ye are beaten, uncle. I am laird, and ye will renounce this false claim and be on yer way,” Finlay said, advancing toward his uncle, who now raised his sword in anger.
“I will dae nay such thing. These men can see that ye are nothin’ but a pathetic child, one who cannae lead them, one nae fit to be his father’s heir. Ye are nay Laird. Ye have much to learn,” he said, and rushing forward, he brought his sword down hard upon that of Finlay, who raised it up to strike back, taken by surprise at the ferocity of his attack.
“I am nay child, uncle,” he cried, driving back with his own blow and sending his uncle reeling to the ground.
In an instant, he was on his feet again, and once more, the two men clashed, their swords striking one another as they struck blow after blow at one another, the fight ferocious and unforgiving.
The mist had lifted now, the sun breaking through the clouds of that early morning, and it seemed that the whole clan had now gathered in front of the castle to witness the spectacle which was now unfolding.
“Disappear, nephew. Retreat back into the northern lands and seek the mercy of yer MacDonald friends, for ye shall find none here,” Finlay’s uncle cried out, bringing his sword down again, the hilt hitting Finlay hard in the leg and causing him to fall.
“I would rather die than retreat,” Finlay said, rolling onto his side and lashing out at his uncle, who stumbled and fell.
At that moment, there came a shout from behind, and Finlay looked up to see a band of peasants appearing through the mist. It was the crofters they had met the day before, marching as one toward them, calling out in support of Finlay.
“We are loyal MacCallums, and we demand the rightful Laird to rule over us. Finlay MacCallum is by right - the heir to his father,” they cried out, as many of the clansmen now looked at one another in confusion.
“This man was dead, and now he returns to make demands which are nae his to make,” Finlay’s uncle said, staggering to his feet and pointing his sword at Finlay.
“I have every right to make them,” Finlay said, as Dougal pushed his way through the clansmen and came to stand before them.
“Finlay, I am sorry for my betrayal. Can ye forgive me? Can ye forgive us all? Look, men, my fellow MacCallums, this is our rightful Laird, can ye nae see that?” he cried out.
“He is the rightful Laird,” the crofters called out, and Finlay looked at them with gratitude.
“Curse ye, Finlay, ye are nothin’ but a child. Dae ye think that these men will rally to yer banner? Nay, they are loyal to their clan and nae to yer pitiful name,” his uncle said, lunging at Finlay again, their swords clashing.
But now it seemed that the mood was shifting, the men murmuring among themselves, a sense of change in the air as they looked from Finlay to his uncle and back. Would a fight now break out? A war between the clansmen themselves.
“Enough of this,” Elaine cried out, stepping forward and causing both Finlay and his uncle to step back in surprise as she came to stand bravely between them.
“Look at yerselves, ye dae yer clan nay honor by doubtin’ this good man who is yer rightful Laird. I was betrothed to his father, as all of ye well know, and he fell in the most tragic of circumstances. Is his legacy to be this bitter fight between ye all, or will stay united as the clan he loved? This man is an impostor who has taken what is rightly Finlay’s and called it his own. Well, I say enough,” she said, turning to Finlay’s uncle with a defiant look upon her face.
“Elaine is right,” Dougal cried out, “we have been tricked by this man. Our Laird was nae dead, he stands here before us now, and we owe him our allegiance. Come now, rally to his cause.”
A cheer now went up all around, and Finlay found himself surrounded by his clansmen, those who had ridden out with his uncle and those who had come to his aid from the crofts. They were acclaiming him as the rightful Laird and calling out for his uncle to be thrown into the dungeons.
“It seems ye have won yer title, Laird,” Murdoch said, as Finlay’s uncle was bound and led toward the castle.
Now, they walked in a triumphant procession, banners fluttering in the breeze and the sunlight now coming through the clouds, bathing the castle in light. Elaine slipped her arm through Finlay’s, turning to him and kissing him upon the cheek.
“Ye are master of this clan now, Finlay, ye have regained what is rightfully yers,” she said, and he smiled at her.
“I couldnae have done so without ye, Elaine,” he replied, and she shook her head.
“We did it together, for I wouldnae have returned here if it had nae been for ye. Come now, we must celebrate,” she said, as they came to the castle gates.
“What of yer uncle, Finlay? What are we to dae with him?” Murdoch asked, and Finlay shook his head sadly.
“I fear that he would only cause us trouble if we let him go. There is nay choice but to throw him in the dungeons for now, and then we shall decide what fate shall befall him,” Finlay replied, glancing over at where his uncle was being held by several of the clansmen, his face a picture of anger.
“Ye are right, Laird, yer uncle would only cause ye further trouble. There are still those who would gladly see this clan fall and ye and the rest of us defeated. Daenae allow that to happen,” Murdoch replied.
They were inside the castle now, and there was much cheering and rejoicing as Finlay and the others were welcomed home. Finlay’s uncle was led to the dungeons, crying out curses against Finlay and promising his revenge, but Finlay was undaunted by such threats, empty as they seemed, and now, he had, but one thought in mind.
“Elaine, will ye come with me a moment?” he said, holding out his hand to her.
She nodded, following him across the courtyard and up a flight of steps to the battlements. A narrow parapet ran along the wall and led toward the keep. Finlay remembered running along it as a child, balancing precariously upon the edge and seeing how fast he could climb up to the top of the keep above. Now, he led Elaine to the very top of the castle, pausing there to look out over the moorlands as he took her in his arms and kissed her.
“I wanted to bring ye here away from everything else,” he said, leaning on the parapet and looking out.
“Ye can see to the sea from here and right across the moorlands, almost as far as my father’s lands,” she said, putting her arms around him.
“Tis’ like a dream to be here, for I feel as though I have awoken as a different man,” he said.
“Ye have been on a journey, one that has caused ye much heartache but allowed ye to grow into a man,” she replied, and he looked at her and blushed.
“Aye, perhaps I needed this to happen, but dae ye really think I have changed that much?” he asked, and she nodded.
“We both have. We h
ave grown closer together. We have grown to love one another,” she said, her words trailing off.
Finlay felt a shiver run through him at these words, emboldened to speak what was foremost in his heart. He had been so preoccupied with thoughts of what might happen at Kilchurn that day that now an overwhelming sense of peace had come over him and the feelings of his heart shone through.
“I have fallen so very deeply in love with ye, Elaine, I cannae imagine a moment without ye. We have shared so much, come through so much together, and now it seems that is at an end,” he said.
“Or a beginning,” she replied, and he nodded. Turning to her and taking her in his arms.
“There is somethin’ I must ask ye, it cannae wait, though I know the clan will wish to celebrate our victory and we will dae so soon, but I must know, Elaine, will ye be my wife? I love ye with all my heart, a love that has grown stronger and stronger these days and weeks past. I couldnae ask ye before, because I had nothin’ else to give ye except myself, but now I offer ye all that is mine and all that I am, to be without ye would be unbearable, Elaine, my life would have nay meanin’ now, I know it,” he said, a surge of panic running through him at the thought that even now she might refuse him.
Highlander’s Forbidden Desire: Wanting her was forbidden, having her was his ruin... Page 25
