by Fiona Faris
“The man who took me is here!”
“Where?” he asked, searching the faces below them.
The voice came again, and she turned to find that it was coming from the laird’s table. Her eyes fell upon the hawk faced man and her stomach turned over. “It is yer cousin,” she gasped before she could stop herself. She felt as she were about to be sick.
“Lachlan?” Duncan asked incredulously.
“Aye,” she nodded her head frantically, then shrunk back behind Duncan’s body in order to hide herself from her kidnapper. She knew it was pointless as he was already aware of her presence at the table, but she could not help herself. The mere sound of his voice caused all of the fear and uncertainty that she had felt tied up on the floor of that mountain croft to return.
“Ye must be mistaken. Lachlan would ne’er do a thing such as that tae any lass.” Duncan disregarded her words with a shake of his head.
“I am no’ mistaken,” she adamantly argued. “It was he who took me.”
“Ye are wrong, lass. He was with his family when ye were taken. He could no’ have been both places at the same time.”
“Be that as it may, he is the one.”
“I am sorry, lass, but that is impossible.” Duncan looked upon her with sympathy as if she had lost her mind under the strain of her loss. “Ye have been through a great deal, Marra, perhaps ye should go and lie down for a time. A good night’s rest will put ye tae rights.”
Had they not been in front of such a large crowd of people, she would have slapped him across the face. “I am no’ mad, Duncan,” she ground out between her teeth. “Lachlan is the man who took me, and I can prove it tae ye.”
“How?” he asked doubtfully.
“I cut the man who took me with my sgian dubh. He will have a wound somewhere on his person.”
“As do half the men present, lass. The men have been trainin’ day and night tae prepare for a possible attack from yer kinsmen. A wound is no’ proof o’ anythin’.”
“How can ye doubt me after everythin’ that we have been through together? I would no’ lie about such a thing!”
“I ken that ye would no’ lie about it intentionally, lass, but the mind plays strange tricks when one is frightened and harmed as ye were. Ye want someone tae blame, as do I, but my cousin is no’ the man ye seek.”
Angry and frustrated beyond measure, Marra closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It took all of her strength not to punch him square in the face. “Will ye at least consider the notion that I might be right? Look in tae his whereabouts. See if he really was with his family or if he left them for any period of time during their journey. Has he e’er expressed a desire tae be laird someday?”
“I ken that Lachlan has nae intention o’ bein’ laird. He has ne’er once expressed an interest in holdin’ the title, and if he did, all he would need do is say so. The men would follow him in an instant. Besides, how would takin’ ye further such aims? There is nae reason tae yer claims, lass.” Duncan looked into her eyes and sighed. “But I will do as ye say and verify that he was indeed with his family. I do this because I love ye. I would no’ make such a concession for anyone else, lass.”
Marra nodded her head. She wasn’t sure whether to hit him or thank him. She tried to put herself in his place, imagining how she might react if it had been he accusing one of her own people. I suppose I would no’ wish tae admit such a thing either, tae myself or anyone else. Not sure how to proceed and having lost her appetite, Marra excused herself from the table, promised the laird they would speak at a later time, then left the hall. When Duncan stood to follow, she waved him back, choosing to go alone. She did not wish for Lachlan to grow suspicious that she knew it was he who had taken her, and both she and Duncan leaving the dinner early would have drawn too much attention.
No longer feeling safe in the castle with Lachlan sleeping just down the corridor, Marra slipped outside, crossing the courtyard in the gathering darkness, and walked down through the village toward the croft assigned to Diana’s family. Diana had not been in the hall, and Marra wished to look in on her to ensure that she was resting comfortably after the move. Hearing footsteps behind her she whirled around with her sgian dubh in hand to face her pursuer.
“Easy, lass. Ye could poke a man’s eye out with that,” Ewen chuckled. “Duncan sent me tae look after ye.”
Marra sighed with relief and nearly hugged the man. “Thank the heavens it is only ye.”
“Only I? Were I a more vain man, I might take exception tae such a turn o’ phrase.” Ewen chuckled and moved forward offering her his arm. “Are ye off tae look in on yer maid, Diana?”
“Aye, she was nae in the hall with the others. She has been havin’ trouble with loud noises and such. She has more than likely chosen no’ tae tempt fate with a gatherin’ o’ such size in one room, but I will sleep better once I ken she is well, or at least as well as she can be, all things considered.”
“I overheard yer conversation with Duncan. Are ye sure it is Lachlan, lass?”
“Aye, I am sure,” she emphatically answered, unintentionally tightening her grip on his arm.
Ewen nodded, and his face took on a thoughtful expression. “I have ne’er cared for the man as I always favored young Duncan over his cousin, but the rest o’ the fightin’ men would follow Lachlan tae the grave if he asked it o’ them. I will ask around and see what I can discover once the men are in their cups later tonight.”
“I thank ye, Ewen, with all o’ my heart.” Marra was grateful to have such a man as an ally.
“Duncan is a loyal man; it is his greatest strength, but it can also be his weakness. If Lachlan is guilty then Duncan will see that he is punished. He will no’ abandon ye nae matter the outcome. Ye will be avenged, or he will die in the attempt, upon that ye can depend.”
“I dinnae wish him tae die in an effort tae avenge me. I simply wish for him tae believe me. I dinnae ken Lachlan’s motives, but I am certain beyond any doubt that it was he who took me. It was he who stated he wished tae be laird. It was he who admitted tae wishin’ the MacDonald clan harm. I swear tae ye, Ewen, Lachlan is a dangerous man.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Duncan sat at the table next to his father watching Marra walk away. It cannae be Lachlan. She must be mistaken. He was horrified by the possibility that any member of his family could be responsible for the atrocities that she had endured. The idea made his stomach turn over, and he instantly lost his appetite. He pushed back from the table as she disappeared through the door. She had not taken the stairs and he grew concerned. Looking to Ewen, he gestured with his head for his trusted man to follow her. Ewen nodded and immediately arose to do as bidden.
Duncan leaned back in his chair and studied his cousin discretely beneath his lashes. He thought about everything that Marra had said and tried to remember when Lachlan had claimed to have been wounded. It had been around the time of the storm, but Lachlan had fought every day since they were children and had been wounded more times than Duncan could ever have kept track of. They had not seen each other for days after the gathering, so it was hard to say exactly when it had happened. Several of the men had been wounded around the same time in the same training session, but he had not been around for it, so he could not attest to the exact nature of the event. He had not thought anything of it at the time, but now…
Surveying the room, Duncan examined the face of each man he knew to have been wounded during the time in question. They were all loyal men whom he could not imagine going against the wishes of their laird, but his father was not well, and soon there would be a new laird. Lachlan would indeed be a logical choice for laird. He is a fierce fighter, strong, skilled with a blade, but he is hot tempered and prone to rash behavior when riled. Nevertheless, the men are loyal to him. He has their respect in ways I ne’er have. But kidnapping and murder? That is tae terrible for consideration, and yet Marra is no’ prone tae flights o’ fancy.
He gritted his teeth in frustratio
n. Idonea had predicted there would come a day when he would have to choose between Marra and his own people. He had never imagined that kidnapping and murder would be the catalyst for that choice. The MacGregor name had been banned as punishment for violence against another clan. For any MacGregor to do what had been done to Marra’s people would be an utter death sentence to the entire clan. No’ a one among us would be so foolish. The king would have our heads, Campbell or MacGregor would no’ matter. Fear seized his heart as he considered the repercussions if Marra were right about Lachlan. ‘Twould be the end o’ us all.
Duncan’s attention was drawn away from his dangerous musings by his father’s sagging form. The laird had exhausted what little strength he had remaining and could no longer bear it. Duncan arose and aided his father to his feet. Lachlan stood and came over to assist. The three of them made their way through the hall and up the stairs with the two younger men practically carrying the laird. His body spasmed from coughing, nearly causing the men to drop him. Together, they somehow managed to get him safely to bed. Duncan turned to find that Idonea had followed them.
“I will take it from here, lads,” she offered and immediately began seeing to the ailing man’s needs.
“I thank ye for all that ye do, Idonea,” Duncan replied sincerely and then followed Lachlan out of the room.
They walked back down to the hall together and joined the other men of the clan just as each were being handed a tankard of ale. Ewen joined them and raised a toast to the laird. The men all raised their tankard’s crashing them together with such force that the ale sloshed out over the sides and onto the floor. They then downed the contents in one go. The men let out a collective sigh of satisfaction and then called for more ale. Duncan leaned over and asked Ewen about Marra. “She has decided tae stay with her maid, Diana, for the night. Ian is with them. She is safe,” Ewen reassured him. A maid came around with a pitcher and refilled their cups. Ewen proposed another toast, this time to the Jacobite cause. This went on for some time with Ewen pushing more and more drinks upon the men as he offered up toast after toast.
When the men were good and truly drunk, he began tae ask questions about various topics pertaining to fighting and warfare. He asked one man about his fiercest battle and several of the men picked up the topic answering of their own accord. Over time the questions became more pointed, and Duncan could make out a pattern to his inquiries. Ewen is doing this for Marra, he realized. He had not drank near as much as the others and noticed that Ewen too was more clear eyed than the rest. Duncan turned to observe Lachlan and found him eyeing Ewen suspiciously. That is no’ a good sign. He would no’ be suspicious if he had nothin’ tae hide, would he? Perhaps it is all in my head, and he does no’ look suspicious at all? Duncan was filled with conflicting emotions. He found himself doubting everything at every turn.
As the night wore on the men became more and more intoxicated. Some managed to stumble home, while others lay down on the floor of the hall wrapped in their plaid. Lachlan walked away, assisting one of the other men to his croft in the village. Ewen nodded to Duncan and turned to follow. Marra will have a wee bit o’ a surprise on her doorstep when she wakes up in the mornin’ if that glint in Ewen’s eye is any indication. There is nothin’ like a lass wakin’ up tae a sleepin’ highlander in her doorway. Duncan chuckled at the thought then instantly sobered. If Ewen suspects Lachlan, then the odds are no’ in our favor. I have ne’er kenned that man tae be wrong about anythin’ of import in the past. Sighing, Duncan wearily climbed the stairs to his bedchamber.
Passing the laird’s room, he opened the door and peaked in to make sure that he was resting comfortably. Idonea was asleep in a chair beside the bed covered by her arisaid. His father lay wheezing upon the bed, his every breath a struggle. Duncan crept forward and pulled the blankets up to his chest. He stood looking down upon the face of the man he loved above all others and knew that their time together would soon be at its end. A single tear slipped down his cheek, and he quickly brushed it away, not wanting to risk his father awakening to find his son standing over him blubbering over a death that had not yet occurred. Duncan turned to go, but was stopped by the feel of his father’s hand upon his. He turned back around to find his father looking up at him.
“Duncan, my son,” he whispered fondly, squeezing his hand in affection.
“Aye, Faither, ‘tis I,” Duncan confirmed, smiling down at him. “How fare ye this night?”
“I have been better,” he coughed out.
“Och, ye look fit as new mown hay tae me, Faither.”
Fergus chuckled, then coughed once more. “Oh, aye, and I’ll be just as dead afore long.”
“Faither…”
“’Tis true, and ye ken it well,” the laird patted his son’s hand in admonishment. “Ye must prepare yerself, Duncan. I wish for ye tae be the laird in my stead, but ye must be strong if that is tae happen. Dinnae let Lachlan become laird. He is tae hot tempered for the clan tae survive his rule. I love my sister’s son, but he is no’ the right man for the work ahead. Ye, my son, are the only man I can entrust our people tae. Ye must swear tae me that ye will do all in yer power tae succeed me as laird. Swear it!” Coughs consumed his body, causing it to spasm in pain.
“I swear it, Faither,” Duncan promised, unable to refuse his father’s dying wish.
Idonea awoke and chased Duncan from the room. Not wishing to cause any more of a disturbance to his father’s rest than he already had, Duncan left the laird’s bedchamber and walked to his own room. He found himself wishing that he were with Ewen guarding Marra’s door, but the laird’s son sleeping out in the village streets would have drawn too much attention to the situation. If Lachlan or any of his men were guilty then any change in normal activity would cause them to tighten up their ranks and make it that much harder for Duncan to ascertain the truth. I am grateful tae have a man such as Ewen upon whom I can depend.
Duncan entered his room, disrobed, and crawled beneath the blankets. His last thought was of Marra as he had found her tied up on the croft floor, pleading for her life. Please, God, dinnae let it be one o’ my people who did this tae her.
Marra awoke the next morning to find Ewen sleeping on the doorstep of Diana’s family’s temporary croft. She smiled at the sight of the snoring highlander wrapped from head to toe in his plaid. He reminded her of a bearded bairn swaddled for his nap. Becoming aware of her presence, Ewen stirred and gazed up at her standing in the open doorway. “Good mornin’, lass,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and getting to his feet. He yawned and stretched, getting the kinks out of his muscles from spending the night on a cold hard surface. “How did ye sleep?”
“A sight better than ye, I would say,” she remarked, taking in the state of him. “Come in, and I will fix ye a spot o’ breakfast afore yer day begins.” Ewen nodded in gratitude and followed her inside. “Did ye discover anythin’ last night?” she asked, pulling a frying pan from its hook on the wall. She pulled a pot of water over to the fireplace to boil and set the frying pan over the flames to cook eggs. When the water was ready, she tossed in some oats to make parritch. She threw some sausages into the frying pan as well.
Ewen watched her every move with hungry delight. “Aye, no’ enough tae make a difference yet, but Lachlan was eyein’ me suspiciously and some o’ the men were actin’ as if they had somethin’ tae hide. Duncan noticed as well. I can tell by the look on his face that he believes ye, lass, but he is goin’ tae need hard proof afore he can do aught about it.”
“Aye, I expected as much. I ken that he cannae go on my word alone as all I had tae go on was a voice that I would ne’er forget. The clan will need more than that afore any action can be taken, but it does my heart good tae hear that he is taken what I said seriously. I was no’ sure last night that he believed me, and that hurt more than I care tae admit.”
“Aye, I could see it in yer eyes, lass, but it hurt him as well. Lachlan is his cousin, his family. Nae man wants tae believe his own blo
od capable o’ such things. They grew up together, near as brothers they were. ‘Tis no’ an easy thing tae learn the man ye have loved and trusted yer entire life is a kidnapper and a murderer. ‘Tis one thing tae kill in battle or tae take kine in a raid. ‘Tis another thing entirely tae slaughter women and children in their beds while they sleep.”
Marra shuddered at the image his words painted in her mind. She had seen their burnt corpses with her own eyes. She had buried them with her own hands. People she had known and loved her entire life gone, their bodies rotting in the ground. The smell of the cooking sausages mixed with her memory of the smell of burnt human flesh, and she raced to the door to vomit in the dirt.
“I am sorry, lass. I did no’ mean tae stir up yer memories in such a way.” Ewen walked over to the door to ensure that she was alright. He helped her back into the croft and sat her down in the chair he had just vacated.
“My apologies,” she whispered, her throat hoarse from retching.
“Nae apologies are needed, lass. Ye have suffered much and bore it well. ‘Tis I who am sorry.” Ewen wet a cloth in water and brought it to her to clean her face.
