by Alisa Adams
He rested for a few moments then began to strip the twigs and leaves from the main body of the branch. It took only a few minutes, and the results were not pretty, but he was satisfied with the results. The tree limb was perhaps three inches thick, straight, strong and tall enough to reach his armpit. It looked as though it would bear his weight.
It was a warm day, so he took off his jacket and used it as a pad for the top of the crutch so that he could tuck it under his arm without too much discomfort, then he set off.
He was only a hundred yards from the road, but it seemed to take forever to reach it. At last, he stepped into the open and cautiously looked around himself. There was no one on the road, but a traveler on foot or horse or a farmer's cart could appear at any moment. However, nobody knew what he looked like, nobody knew what he sounded like, and nobody knew who he was.
An ironic twist to his situation was that the nearest place that he could possibly go for help was the farm they had been about to raid. He would have to go there – he had no other choice.
He began to hobble on his way. Fortunately, the road went downhill on this stretch, and in the distance, perhaps half a mile away, he saw Elliott's farm.
He knew that they kept a dairy herd and made cheese for the local market. They also had a flock of sheep for mutton and wool. They had beehives too, and God alone knew what else. Maybe they had silver shillings under the floorboards.
Damnation! he thought. Where is my sword?
He struggled down the hill till he got to the turn-off to the farm, then he slowly hobbled towards the house, but before he could get there, a man came out to meet him, a big, solid, muscular man who looked as though he could lift a bullock under one arm.
Hector's foot was aching now, and the chafing of the padded branch under his arm had caused blisters. He was in a very bad way.
The man came forward.
"Let me help ye, friend," he said kindly. "Ye're in a bad way.
"My ankle." Hector gasped painfully. "Fell aff my horse."
The man set him down on a mattress in the corner of the room.
He carefully took off his boot to look at the injury, and when he saw it, he frowned.
"This is gaunnae hurt, friend," he said, as soothing as he could.
Hector nodded.
"Get on wi' it," he said hoarsely.
The man began to probe the swollen tissue till Hector thought he would die with the pain. He took off his neckerchief and folded it, then bit down on it to stop himself from screaming.
"Aye, it's broke." The farmer sat back on his haunches and looked at Hector. "'Twill need to be set."
"Can ye dae it?" Hector asked.
"No' me, but we hae a wise woman who lives quite near. I am Jack Elliott, by the by."
Hector thought wildly and pretended to be in pain for a moment.
"Archie McGovern," he replied weakly. "Can I trouble ye fer a wee bit o’ water?"
The farmer went off to fetch the water, and Hector looked around the room. It was a typical farmhouse with crude wooden furniture, an open fire, and bunches of herbs hanging from the roof. Then his eye fell on something else.
Standing propped up against the wall opposite him was his claymore. He would have recognized it anywhere. He bit down his anger at finding it in this rude hovel. He had to be pleasant to these people if he was going to get any help from them, but it went against his every instinct.
14
The Fortress
They could not use the hunting dogs to track Hector down – since they had none of his possessions to help the dogs find a scent – so the search parties had to work out another method of finding him.
Once again, Alexa and the lairds got together to plan another strategy.
"How could he have got away so quickly?" Graham asked, baffled.
"Horseback, foot, hiding in the back of a cart," Alexa mused aloud. "Or maybe he didn't get away. We didn't have time for a thorough search that night – it was too dark anyway – and to be quite honest, everybody was too busy tending to the wounded and making arrangements for Donella's funeral."
She frowned and bit her lip in agitation.
"We can carry on searching," Alexa continued, "but I think we must also get into the stronghold and see what it looks like. There will likely be possessions of the children there and other things that will be of use to them. After that, they can decide what they want to do with it. They may want to burn it to the ground, for all I know."
"That would be a pity," Gregor said, shaking his head. "That hill is a plateau with a flat piece of pasture at the top, and they could make it pay for itself with our help."
There was a murmur of assent around the table, and Alexa suggested that Mairi, Donald, and Dougall accompany them to the entrance to the stronghold. Mairi was the only one who knew exactly where the entrance was – since she had crept behind her father and seen him opening it one day, and shortly thereafter had begun her nightly excursions. From that day on she had been looking for a way to escape.
Accordingly, they sent for her. She came in quietly and sat beside Alexa, who introduced her to all of the lairds.
"Mairi," Alexa began, going around the table clockwise, "this is Laird Urquhart, Laird MacKnight, Laird McKinnon, the future Laird Hamilton, and the future Laird Carmichael, whom you already know. They need to ask you some questions. Are you willing to help us?"
"Aye, mistress." Mairi's eyes glittered with fierceness. "I will answer onything if it is in my power."
Alexa smiled at her. "Good! Who's going to start? Laird McKinnon?"
"Thank you, Mistress Alexa," Laird McKinnon said courteously. "And thank you for your assistance at this difficult time, Miss Sutherland. My condolences to you."
Mairi blinked. She had been called a lot of things, but never 'Miss Sutherland'!
"Thank you, my Laird." Mairi bowed her head. "Ask onything ye want tae."
"Miss Sutherland, I would like to know if there will be any danger for any of us if we attempt to go up en masse?"
Mairi looked blankly at Alexa.
"He means altogether, Mairi," Alexa explained.
"Naw, my Laird," Mairi replied. "But nae mair than two abreast, I think. A lot o' big stuff is carried doon the passage, but it's a quarter mile long so try no' tae shift too much at once. It's a lang way when ye're carryin' onythin'."
They asked her more questions, such as the amount of livestock, the state of the buildings, and what could be safely carried down on the hoist. She was able to answer all of them quickly and with great assurance, till the lairds were satisfied. They determined to reconnoiter at first, then take some mules up with them in case they needed to lift any heavy goods, but at the end of the meeting Alexa spoke up once more.
"My Lairds," she said firmly, "no one has asked the Sutherland family's permission to do all this. Should we not get their assent?"
Mairi swiftly interrupted.
"Mistress," she said, her voice heavy with menace, "I want every possession of my faither's oot o' that hoose. I want nae trace that he has ever been there. When we take oor things oot, I will burn his. I want it tae be clean o' his stench, an' I speak for all the family when I say that."
The lairds flinched from the anger in her face. It was dark with rage and hatred, and her hands resting on the table were clutched into fists so that the knuckles showed white under the skin.
"Very well, then," Alexa said lightly, trying to dispel the gloom. "We shall start after breakfast and begin to clear the entrance. You can direct us from there, Mairi."
"Aye, mistress." Mairi stood up. "Can we bring Faither Munro wi' us?"
Alexa frowned. "We can ask him. But why, Mairi?"
"Because Satan himself has lived there an' I want him gone!" Mairi banged her fist on the table. "I want Faither Munro tae exorcise it, so there is nae presence o' him left!"
Then she went out, slamming the door behind her.
The lairds and Alexa looked at each other.
Gr
egor sighed.
"She has the right," he said sadly. "Poor girl, what she must have endured!"
"Then let us carry out her wishes," Alexa said.
She saw the lairds out, then went back to Mairi, who was sitting with Moira and the men in the parlor.
"You must not let your hatred consume you, Mairi," Alexa whispered as she sat down next to her. "Then he has won. Remember that."
Mairi nodded and smiled at her.
Alexa put an arm around her. "Nothing will happen to any of you as long as you are under this roof. I swear."
"And I," Moira said, leaning over to pat Mairi's knee.
"And all of us," Iain said on behalf of the men.
Tears sprang to Mairi's eyes.
"Thank ye all," she said, hardly able to speak.
The next morning they went off to the fortress under a lowering sky that promised a rainstorm of huge proportions a few hours later.
Alexa rode with Mairi in front of her – since riding was one of the many things she still had to learn.
Gregor looked at them, thinking what a beautiful sight they made, the strong dark woman who looked like an Egyptian princess, and the deceptively dainty one who looked like a nymph.
He was looking forward to the exposing of the so-called 'Satan's Lair' – since it piqued his keen curiosity about the differences between people.
Once when he was a boy, he had seen a Saracen captured from the Crusades who had dark brown hair and eyes that were almost black. He dressed in bright-hued flowing robes – every color in the rainbow, in fact. Gregor had gone over to speak to him, and the man smiled, showing very white teeth.
Ever since that day, it had been Gregor's ambition to travel the world and see the wonders it had to offer, but he knew he would never be able to.
I cannot have Alexa either, he thought, with an inner sigh.
Then he shook his mind away from these thoughts and firmly told himself to stop feeling sorry for himself. There would never be any point in dwelling on what he could not have. It seemed that lairds and their sons were envied for their money, but nobody knew the price they had to pay for it.
"Looking forward to this?" Graham asked him, with some apprehension.
"Should be fascinating!" Gregor replied. "To see a real robbers' den! I can't wait!"
Alexa could hear them and was quite sure that Mairi had too, although she kept her gaze firmly to the front. Alexa made several threatening gestures to tell the men to shut up, and eventually, they did.
They got to the lair a few minutes later.
"Mairi," Graham said as he helped her alight from Jenny, "if anything upsets you, just come out again."
"Aye, sir," she said quietly. "I will."
She went to the entrance and pulled open the barely visible latch. There was a collective gasp of amazement.
"I followed my faither doon here one night, thinkin' tae escape," she said. "I couldnae leave my brithers an' sisters behind, but I did find oot where the latch wis. Ye cannae see it on the ither side either. Paw built it, but it's clever onyway."
"You think your father is stupid, Mairi?" Iain asked.
"Sir." She pulled the door open to admit them. "Ye dinnae want tae knaw whit I think o' my paw. He is an evil man. No' stupid, but cunning, an' sleekit."
She lit a lantern and held it up, then entered through the gap in the sheer face of the rock. She had a feeling, despite what she had been through in this place, of coming home. Even though the path was wide enough for two abreast they walked in single file.
Father Munro, a short, portly gray-haired man in his sixties, went in first and invoked a blessing, then sprinkled holy water before deeming it safe to go in.
The ground was dry, and there was no smell of dampness in the air, but it stank of rottenness. Alexa was beginning to feel the first panicky signs of claustrophobia by the time they got to the end of the tunnel. There was a faint glimmer of daylight from above them, and she had never been so thankful to see anything in her whole life.
She could feel that the tunnel had opened up into a chamber, and when Mairi held the lantern up, she could see that it was huge. There was a great winch with a huge wheel, the diameter of which must have been about three yards. Around it was coiled the thickest rope Alexa had ever seen.
The platform which held the goods being transported up and down was roughly twelve feet square and made of planks of wood three inches thick. Alexa was amazed that one person could even get the massive handle to move, but apparently, it was done routinely.
There were goods piled about everywhere, mostly on wooden pallets – bales of hay, casks of wine, crates containing wheels of cheese and even a few bolts of linen and silk.
The Sutherlands would steal and sell anything. There was a ladder on the wall, and the group ascended it carefully, except for Mairi, who ran up it like a monkey.
Alexa was trembling with relief by the time they got to the top. Heights and the dark were the only things in the world that could daunt her indomitable spirit.
The door at the top opened into a kitchen, and Mairi opened a door to let in the daylight. The house was typical of farmhouses all over Scotland.
It had one large room with a fire in the middle for cooking and a few tiny unglazed windows. There was a scarred wooden table with some roughly hewn chairs scattered around it. On the floor were two piles of straw mattresses and another pile of blankets. The walls were black with soot, and Alexa thought it the ugliest room she had ever seen.
At the back of the room was an alcove where presumably the Sutherland parents slept. The whole place reeked of smoke and body odor, and Alexa felt sick. She caught Graham's eye, and the look on his face let her know that the smell was making him feel the same way.
As was the case downstairs; there were crates, boxes, and casks all around the walls. What a lot they had looted! Alexa was amazed. If their talents had been put to better use, she thought, they would have been formidable businessmen.
They went outside. At this altitude, the wind whipped straight off the sea and almost blew them over with its ferocity. The ocean was close, and there was nothing to obstruct the gusts of freezing air which hit them like a slap in the face as soon as they stepped outside.
There was a surprising amount of green pasture on top of the hill, where a few sheep and goats were grazing. In the outbuildings, they saw signs that horses had been housed there, although there were no actual stables.
The next storeroom was securely locked.
"I dinnae knaw where the key is," Mairi said with reluctance, shrugging.
"Right!" Graham took off his cloak. He threw his whole weight against the door which shuddered on its hinges.
The door jamb cracked at the second attempt, and at the third, it gave way entirely with a resounding crash.
Graham staggered into the room with the force of his own momentum and Gregor hauled him up, both of them laughing.
Then they stood still and stared, astonished at what they were seeing.
15
Treasure
Inside, they found silverware, jewelry and some silken hangings which obviously had not come from farmhouses. There were also some finely embroidered silk and linen dresses which looked extremely valuable. The Sutherlands had obviously branched out into burglary as a sideline. Next to all of this expensive merchandise were two claymores with basket handles studded with rubies.
Iain whistled.
"I know where these swords came from," he said heavily, picking one up carefully.
Graham reached out to touch it, but Iain moved it out of his reach.
"Have a care, Graham. This sword is wickedly sharp." Iain laid it out flat on his palms to show them the edge of the gleaming metal.
"I would wager my life on this that this sword belongs to my friend, Lachlan McGregor, Laird of Ness." He smiled with fondness. "It even has a name."
"Tell us the name," Alexa said impatiently.
Iain looked as if he was daydreaming.
"It is called Shona." He smiled again. "After his wife, whom he loves with all his heart. He always said that he wished he had another heart so that he could love her even more! I have never seen the sword before – he kept it hidden away, of course – but he particularly told me about the initials engraved on the blade. There they are. That is proof of the sword's identity."
They looked carefully, and engraved on both of the blades was a design of the initials 'L' and 'S' intertwined.
"How romantic!" Alexa sighed. She may have been a tomboy, but her heart and mind were as capable of being lovestruck as any other woman.
"It's said," Iain went on, "that Shona McGregor is the most beautiful woman in the Highlands. I personally have not met every woman in the Highlands so I could not say, but she is one of the loveliest women I have ever seen."
They laughed as he picked up the slightly bigger sword.
"This one's name is Lachlan, not surprisingly. I would not imagine these swords were made for use in battle – probably just for ceremonial reasons, but I do know that they could be used in anger. They are honed to perfection."
"They are certainly extremely valuable pieces," Gregor said appreciatively. "The laird must have been heartbroken to lose them."
"I wonder if any of these other valuables belong to them?" Iain mused aloud. "I think I must invite them here to find out."
Alexa gave a broad smile.
"I must meet the most beautiful woman in the Highlands!" she said with excitement. "Invite them at once, Uncle!"
Mairi had been quiet all the way through their search, but when they got to the treasure trove, she pushed her way forward to look at it. She had never before seen such riches, and her eyes widened in wonder.
"These people own all this?" she asked, incredulous.
She had always felt it unfair that lairds and ladies owned so much, but now that she could see it in real life, strangely she felt that she did not want it. All this was too much, and she would have given all of it and more just to have a peaceful life
