by Amy Isan
Elyn stoked the fire one last time before heading out the front door. She didn’t want either of them to try and make her feel better about moving. Her heart had made its decision, and she knew she couldn’t argue with the heart. The move had gotten slower in the years, the journey taking longer each time, but never more than half the day’s light.
She gritted her teeth as she saddled up the horse and got him ready for the haul. He looked almost as bad as her family, all ribcage and skin.
“Go get Ma and Da, I’ll be ready soon,” Elyn said to her sister. Sheena turned into the house.
After Elyn watched Sheena disappear into the house, she leaned in close to the horse and whispered to him. “It’s alright, we’ll be ok. They’ll have hay at the castle for you, donae worry.” The horse snorted, almost as if it didn't believe her. Elyn frowned with a bit of irritation. “You just gotta trust me, alright?”
Sheena and her parents appeared behind Elyn, startling her. She jumped back a little, spooking the horse who reared up on his hind-legs, neighing loudly. Elyn's face flushed as she snatched the reins and brought the beast back down to the ground, calming it with a steady voice and gentle touch.
Sheena smirked as she helped their aging parents into the back of the cart. She climbed up to the front and sat down next to Elyn.
“All ready?” Elyn asked. Sheena nodded, and with that Elyn whipped the reins with a gentle crack and the horse jerked the cart forward, heading down the worn and weathered path to Eilean Donan Castle.
***
It wasn’t a long ride, but it was exhausting. By the time they reached the entrance to the castle’s common area, Elyn’s buttocks and thighs were sore from the journey, her neck tense and mind exhausted from the dry and cracked road. Guards posted at the gate observed them, giving Elyn a look over with curious eyes. No, with hungry eyes. She remembered this was one of the reasons she had refused to marry any of the men in Dornie. They all acted the same way — careless and thoughtless. While her parents didn’t exactly approve of her being unwed, they had given up arguing with her.
Her sister nudged her in the ribs and Elyn realized a guard was trying to ask her a question. He repeated himself.
“What brings you sorry lot to Eilean Donan Castle?”
Elyn sighed without a hint of shame or care. “What does it look like? Ye God damn idiot.” The guard glared at her, his hand moving to his sword as the words left Elyn's mouth. Sheena looked to her sister in horror; she clamped her hand over Elyn’s mouth and spoke quickly.
“Please, she donae mean it. Our Da is crippled and our Ma is getting old, just give us passage by.”
The guard spat, clearly not in the mood for snide comments. “I have the right mind to deny you, let the whole lot of you starve and freeze to death this year.”
The guard gave a glance to Elyn with his lip curled in disgust, but his expression softened when he turned to answer Sheena. “Crippled, eh? Well, whatever. Let them through.” He nodded to the other guards, who pushed open the gate, allowing the Douglas family inside.
Sheena thanked him profusely as their horse jerked the cart forward again. As they passed through the doors, Elyn thanked him too, wearing a large smile. “Thanks for nothin’. I hope ye donae get the black death this year.” The guard glared at her but said nothing.
Inside, a small village was situated and crowded against the inner walls of the castle proper. None but Colin Douglas had ever stepped foot into the castle itself, but they had been in the village plenty of times. It was almost tacked on as an after thought, small wooden homes and houses crammed against each other with barely any room to breath. The cobblestone ground was cracked and turned to dust in places, and in heavily traveled areas, huge grooves had been worn in from carriages bringing supplies from the outside for the market. The walls of the castle were tall and oppressive. Elyn knew that by the middle of January, they would barely get to see the sun at all, the shadow of the castle almost strangling them.
“What’s your problem?” Sheena admonished her sister after they were out of earshot of the guards.
Elyn snorted but didn’t answer.
Sheena shook her head and peeked into the back of the carriage to check on their parents. They were napping, curled around each other. “At least Ma and Da didnae have to hear your outburst.”
“At least they didnae have to hear you call them cripples.”
“It got us in didnae it?”
Sheena nodded and dropped the topic.
***
Elyn and Sheena found their old “home away from home,” as Ma liked to call it. It was a tiny shack, smaller than their actual cottage, that they were forced to share with at least two other families for the duration of the winter.
Neither of the other two families had arrived yet, which was a relief for Elyn, who grew perkier at the sight of an empty house.
“Thank God.” Elyn breathed as she dropped a small bundle of cloth and bedding in the center of the room. On one hand, it was great to have the house to themselves for a little longer, but on the other, that just meant that the Armstrongs and the MacLeods were having more successful harvests than her family. She shook her head and dropped the idea as quickly as it came. They would probably be coming later in the day. Maybe tomorrow at the latest.
The air was dusty and muggy, but she quickly remedied that by opening the single shuttered window. A layer of salt seemed to cake every surface, the wood felt damp to the touch. The fireplace hadn’t been cleaned out before they left, which Elyn knew she was going to regret.
Her Da and Ma followed up behind her, hobbling toward the chairs that surrounded the table. It was old and had been repaired many winters ago, so much that Elyn was sure there wasn’t a single timber of wood that was from the original. She dusted her hands as she began to work at starting up the fire, the warmth a perfect remedy for cleaning out the stagnant smell.
After Elyn got the fire going, Sheena nudged her out of the way.
“Hey!” Elyn said.
“Let me take this over, you should go get some stuff from the market while it isn’t swamped.”
Elyn looked to her parents and nodded. She donned her cloak and headed out the door, a small basket in hand.
As she moved through the market, she caught sight of the castle breezeways. It was only from there that she could get a glimpse of what it was like inside. What it was like to be privileged. Thick braziers lined the walls, with some paintings of older Lairds scattered around. A man stood at the edge of the brickwork, it looked like he was looking at her.
She smiled a little at the idea. Why would he be looking at her? That was ridiculous.
She moved through a small crowd of people, maneuvering through an opening and sneaking toward a bazaar with some bread for sale.
Chapter 2: Gavin
1540 — August 26th
Laird Angus found his son, Gavin MacKenzie, cleaning the long blade of the lad’s claymore in his den. Angus was a wizened old man, with a gray beard and gray hair, but a chest made of stone, and blue eyes tempered to the hue of hardened steel. He managed to hold Eilean Donan Castle for a strong fifty years. While many doubted the claimed age of the old Laird, none disrespected him enough to say it to his face.
Gavin was of a similar build. Much younger, but with the same hardened eyes, and blond hair that his father once had. A glint always came to Laird Angus’ eye when he saw his son, a reminder of his youthful past.
“I know why you’re here, old man,” Gavin said without lifting his eyes off the blade. “I’ve already given you my answer. I won’t marry Katrine Maxwell.”
Angus sighed heavily. “Why must I battle you about this?” He settled down in a chair opposite his son, who continued to ignore him. “I’m sorry you couldn’t marry the fine lass we had picked out for you, but this is who we’ve chosen to replace her. We need the support of the Maxwells if we intend on surviving the feud with the MacDonalds.” He hacked and cleared his throat, adding, “Those dogs.”
“What feud? That’s all I’ve heard for my entire life and nothing has come of it.”
“A day will come when it’ll be important to have strong allies.”
“Must we make do with allies of the Maxwell Clan? Those sick animals, begging for scraps in the lowlands... I donae like it.”
“Ye mustn't be be so hasty with your words.” He paused and Gavin felt his gaze move off of him. “New clans are coming in early again this year.”
Gavin grew frustrated and sick of being badgered. He tossed the rag down and sheathed his sword, stomping out of the study. His polished and light armor shook and clinked as he moved, his footsteps hard on the carpeted stone.
His father called after him, but Gavin ignored him. His father would never let up about the MacDonald threat. His constant pressure to marry Katrine Maxwell had been especially fierce the last two months, something about the King never answering his letters. As time had passed, the Laird had grown more and more paranoid and anxious. All it was doing was frustrating Gavin.
He found his way out of the suffocating brick of the castle walls and clasped the edge of an eave, dropping his gaze over the people milling about outside the keep. More clans had moved in again, and he felt a bit upset by their presence.
He couldn’t marry Katrine. It wasn’t that she wasn’t beautiful, but that he didn’t trust the Maxwells. No matter how many times he told his father, he’d never listen. It didn’t matter if the clan needed the Maxwells to help with the MacDonald Clan. They weren’t going to do anything, they were like garden snakes. Maybe frightening for a moment, but never an actual threat.
Gavin’s bright blond hair flicked up and down as a cool breeze kicked through the hall. He lazily gripped his sword and tried to decide what he was going to do.
Fake his death? No, that was too ridiculous. Maybe escape, go into hiding?
That might work.
As he looked across the crowd of families and clans in the market, his heart pumped a little faster when he laid eyes on one red haired lass in particular. He didn’t know her name or what clan she belonged to, but for that moment, he felt his blood surge.
He wiped his brow and exhaled hot air. He turned to head down the hall and find an old friend of his, Alec Macrae, who also resided in the castle. As he passed back into the building from the breezeway, he stole one last glance down at the fiery-haired beauty who had already taken his heart.
***
Later in Alec Macrae's quarter, Gavin was restless, pacing back and forth between each wall and the door. Alec gave him a puzzled look, until Gavin finally opened his mouth.
He muttered under his breath. “Who is that lass?”
Alec glanced at Gavin over the top of his book. “Aye, found another pretty one, eh? You never give up do you?”
Gavin shook his head, as if that would knock some sense into himself.
“No, that’s okay. It wouldn’t be very decent, I suppose.”
Alec shrugged. “I suppose.” A light chuckle escaped his lips.
“So why are you really here? It can’t be cause of some lass you spied down in the market.”
Gavin sat down opposite of Alec. He knew he couldn’t keep everything from his best friend. They’d been through it all together, the thick and the thin. It was hard for Gavin to believe that the Macraes were an unruly lot that tried to take the castle only a hundred years ago, but it was all ancient history now. He smiled. When the Macraes heard of the MacDonald threat, they immediately jumped to the task of helping the MacKenzies. Gavin knew that his father would always have a powerful loyalty and respect for the Macraes, as would Gavin.
“It’s this marriage my father wants me to undertake.”
Alec raised an eyebrow, tracing the thought to its root. “The one with the Maxwells?”
“Aye, that’s it.” Gavin leaned forward in the seat, threading his fingers together.
Alec set his book down. “The way I see it, you donae really have a choice, Gavin.”
Gavin’s face twisted in anger. His eyes flared up. “Donae say that.”
“It’s the truth. If the MacDonalds do intend to attack Eilean Donan Castle — then you’ll be in some serious trouble with the assistance of the Maxwells.”
“But the Maxwells! Of all the clans in the kingdom, why them? Something about them sets my teeth on edge...”
“I assure you, you aren’t the only one.”
“And what’s this ‘MacDonald Threat’? I think they’re nothing but a basket of puppies.”
“They think your father had their daughter killed.”
“Aye. That is true. They’ve supposedly been real bloody upset about that since I was born, but nothing's come of it. I donae know why they won’t listen to reason, why would he do that?”
“Who knows. I’d thank Laird Angus for that. He’s done a good job keeping the peace for the last couple years... and it isn’t just the war he’s worried about. You’ve seen the lowly clans moving in again. We donae have the stores to care of them all, even if we did promise it. We have to keep our word on that.”
“You keep using the word we like it’s your life you have to give away to some dark-haired snake from the low country.” Gavin’s temper flared, his hand clenched tightly over the arm of his chair. He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “Let’s drop this conversation, I’d rather be drinkin’ than thinkin’ right now. I won’t be marrying Katrine Maxwell, and that’s that.”
Alec nodded, a mischievous smile crossed his face. Gavin couldn’t help but feel better just venting his steam to Alec, who was always a good mate when he was needed.
“Come on, let’s go.” Gavin stood and grabbed Alec’s hand, dragging him out of his seat and the room. “I need to be drunk already.”
***
Gavin and Alec headed down to the dining hall in the castle, where they found several other clansmen already drinking. Even though it was only midday, it was never hard to find someone to drink with in Eilean Donan Castle.
Gavin and Alec took a pair of seats next to some other clansmen from Clan Macrae and Clan MacKenzie, cousins and other relatives. They didn’t have any place in the hierarchy of rule, mostly because Angus had been decreed as Clan Chieftain after King James V gave him the castle and the land surrounding it. It only seemed fitting, and no one harbored any ill will about the decision. It was theirs alone to accept the King’s honor, not the other way around.
Among the group of clansmen were Neil Macrae, Alec’s youngest brother, and Rory Macrae, his cousin. They were younger than Alec and Gavin by about seven winters. Neil’s curled locks were in stark contrast to most of the Macrae Clan’s black hair with a forehead as big as an anvil. When the lad was a youngling, he was often teased about how luxurious his hair was, but as age set in and the years took hold of his body, he transformed into a rugged highlander that the men respected. Rory Macrae's hair was the traditional black of his clan, and his body was more slight than Neil’s, but nevertheless, he commanded respect out of his close proximity in relation and friendship with the family.
The youngsters were arguing about what women they had laid claim on earlier that afternoon, and the argument seemed to be growing more reckless and vitriolic by the ale.
“No, no, no, Rory, ye donae get it. I get the first one because I’m older than ye.”
“Fuck tha,” Rory spat in response. He slammed his drink on the table, splashing some of the contents against the side. The pool fizzled and foamed on the wooden surface as he rummaged for the words to come back against Neil. “I donae care if you’re older, I could kick your arse any-day of the week.”
“Is that what you think?” Gavin interrupted. The boys stopped and their fierce eyes turned away from each other and looked up at Gavin, who had appeared behind them. “Having a little tiff are we?” Gavin parted the boys from their shoulders, interrupting their insults and swung his leg over to saddle between them. He snatched the lager off the table that Rory had set down and took a long g
ulp, nearly draining it dry. Rory stared at him in disbelief.
“Well— he’s telling me he gets to have any girl he wants, it’s like anyone I have my eyes on, he lusts fer.”
Gavin shrugged. “If you can really kick his arse to show him up, I dare ye.”
Rory sighed, picking up the mug and staring into the bottom. “You killed it, did ye know?”
“Aye.” Gavin leaned back on the bench and folded his arms. “What lass are you two arguing over anyway?”
The boys turned their attention to Alec as he took a seat across the thick bench from them, two lagers in hand. He pushed one toward Gavin, who snatched it up readily. They looked back to Gavin to answer his question.
“Just this red-haired lass I spotted down in the markets,” Neil said with smug satisfaction. He leaned back and copied Gavin’s pose, folding his arms and looking at Rory.
Rory fumed, he slammed his fist on the table. “You mean, I spotted at the markets. You were too busy staring at the auld women to notice her.”
Alec chuckled as the blood drained from Neil’s face. He tried to defend himself. “No, no...”
Gavin smacked him on the shoulder, shaking him and nearly knocking him off his seat. “Now, lad, nothing to be ashamed about with the auld ones, they’re quite experienced you know.”
Alec regained his balance and gripped the edge of the bench, staring down at the table. He swallowed hard and let Rory continue.
“Now, where was I? After I spotted the lass down in the markets, I pointed her out to Neil, who whirled around and immediately said she was his.”
“Did he now?” Gavin took another swig of beer as he looked at Neil, who had regained his composure.
“Yes, then he went over to talk to her,” Rory continued. “I was so upset and it happened so fast, I didnae even see what he’d done before he came back with a large mark on his face.”
Gavin raised his eyebrows. “A mark on his face?” He leaned his weight over to Neil to try and look at his face, “Ah! I see it, yes, a faint red mark.” He smiled, “what’d you say to earn that, lad?”
