Laird of the Mist

by Foery MacDonell

  ―I understand.‖ Carrick smiled at the memory of Olivia creating a birth certificate for him. They had used Cat‘s, for she had been born in Scotland. Being that she was only one year younger than Carrick, the documents would have been contemporary in format. The new birth certificate read Carrick Alasdair MacDonell, and listed his birth date as February 8, 1983, instead of February 8, 1721.

  ―Look!‖ Cat pointed toward the window.―There‘s a deer underneath the apple tree where we are going to have the ceremony!‖

  ―A good omen, to be sure.‖ Carrick kissed her hand.

  ―It certainly is,‖ Hamish agreed as they watched the graceful animal graze.

  ―So grandda.‖ Olivia nudged him. ―What‘s in that long box you brought on the plane? When will you stop being so mysterious?‖

  ―In good time, Olivia.‖ He smiled at her.―Everything in good time.‖

  They spent the rest of the morning exploring the expansive grounds of Glengarry Castle Hotel. The four of them walked down to the dock and enjoyed the music of the loch lapping against the shore. Then they wandered through the dense forest which skirted the grounds, stopping to examine particular plants, or listen to a bird singing in a fir tree.

  The wedding was set for one o ‘clock, so after a quick lunch, Olivia joined Cat in her room to help her dress.

  ―This is a gorgeous ensemble, Cat.‖ Olivia held the green velvet stays up to herself, admiring it in the mirror.―Not white though.‖ Laying the stays aside, she picked up and shook out the full skirt.

  ―No,‖ Cat answered brushing her long hair over her shoulder.―I wanted something more to Carrick‘s time. White wasn‘t a wedding color then. Besides, I look good in that shade of green. And I love the arisaidh in the Donell tartan.‖

  ―Yes, you look gorgeous in that color,‖ Olivia agreed, helping Cat into the full skirt, and stays, then lacing up the back.―It fits you perfectly.And it‘s just right with your eyes and the flowers.‖

  Cat swirled the arisaidh over her shoulders and pinned it in the front with a Donell clan brooch, with its single raven in the center. It formed a cape-like effect. The blues, greens, and reds of the intricate Donell tartan gleamed against the deep green of the stays and skirt.

  Cat had wanted it simple. An elegant Highland outfit, unbound hair, and a bouquet of freshly picked heather, red roses, thyme, and Hawthorne blossoms from near the castle. Olivia wove some delicate heather into Cat‘s hair. When she finished, she stood back to view her sister.

  ―You are so beautiful.‖ Olivia‘s eyes were misting.―You have a kind of glow about you.‖

  ―Thank you, Olivia.‖ Cat hugged her, her own eyes a bit dewy.―It‘s time to go,‖ she said, breaking the embrace at the knock on the door.

  ―As the door opened, Hamish caught sight of Cat in her gown. With a proud smile, he extended his arm to her.―Ye‘re a lovely bride, Caitriona.I‘m happy I‘m giving ye to the right man,‖ he said with a small crack in his voice and lead her down the stairs and through to the terraced lawns beyond. There, under the apple tree where they had seen the deer, Carrick waited for her with the Reverend Watson.

  Hamish had arranged for the priest to come from St. John‘s, an Episcopal church in Ballachulish, near Glencoe. Carrick was a Glencoe descendant. He and his family were Episcopalian, as was Cat.

  As they neared the tree, Cat caught her breath. Carrick was in his great kilt and lace-trimmed shirt, his auburn hair tied back with a velvet ribbon. His eyes lit as Hamish placed Cat‘s hand into his.

  ―Go, lass,‖ Hamish whispered as he kissed her.―Be happy always.‖

  ―I will,‖ Cat replied as she fit her hand into Carrick‘s and turned to face him, a gentle smile in her eyes.

  ―We are gathered to witness the marriage of Caitriona Eilean MacPhail to Carrick Alasdair MacDonell,‖ the priest began. With most of the formalities complete, the priest took the end of his stole and wrapped it loosely around Cat and Carrick‘s joined hands.

  ―I bless this marriage and the fruit of it,‖ he said solemnly.―And I pronounce ye husband and wife.‖ He removed the stole and nodded to Carrick.

  Deliberately, Carrick swept Cat into his arms and kissed her fervently. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him in equal measure.

  ―Ahem...‖ Hamish interrupted the kiss, lest it last all day.―I have a gift for ye, Carrick.‖

  Reluctantly, Carrick broke from Cat and turned to Hamish.―Aye?‖ he said quizzically.―A gift? But I have nothing to give ye in return.‖

  ―My Caitriona‘s joy is all the gift needed,‖ Hamish said as he opened the long, mysterious box lying nearby.

  He withdrew an old basket-hilted sword and extended it to Carrick with both hands.

  ―I present ye with the family sword,‖ Hamish began.―To welcome ye to the family, and in faith that ye will use it to protect Caitriona.‖

  Moved by the gesture, Carrick bowed his head to Hamish.―I gratefully accept both honors, sir‖ he said humbly.―I will protect her forever, I assure ye,‖ he vowed as a large, jet-black raven landed on the branch above his head. Carrick gave a slight shudder at the bird and said, ―May it no come to the sword.‖

  ―What‘s with the raven?‖ Olivia whispered as Carrick kissed Cat again.

  ―An omen of war,‖ Hamish whispered back. ―Not good.‖

  ―Oh! But...‖Olivia began.

  ―Shhhh...‖ Hamish quieted her.

  Carrick ended the quick kiss and raised the sword with respect to Cat.―I have a wee gift for ye, Caitriona,‖ he said and handed the sword to Hamish.―If you would, sir,‖ he said, removing a small package from his sporran.

  ―This is rightfully yers,‖ he explained as she took it.―It will serve to remind ye that I will keep ye safe and provide for ye always.‖

  Cat‘s eyes widened as she removed the locket from the paper wrapping.

  ―My locket,‖ she murmured.―I had forgotten,‖ she said as she held it out for all to see.―Thank you so much!‖ she said, holding it up to her neck and turning for Carrick to fasten it. It was the perfect way to end the ceremony.

  Reverend Watson bid then all a joyful farewell and left them under the tree to enjoy the champagne the hotel had provided.

  ―Much joy and many bairns,‖ Hamish toasted them, and they all raised their glasses together. They stood, laughing, talking, and sipping the champagne for a while, not wanting to end the moment.

  Suddenly woozy, Cat groped for the chair behind her and quickly sat. A fine mist rose from the ground around her, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

  ―What is it, Cat?‖ Carrick took the glass from her and bent over in concern.

  ―Probably just too much champagne and excitement.‖ She smiled up at him, her arms around her stomach.―I‘ll be fine in a minute.‖

  ―Aye, probably so.‖ Hamish placed his hand on her cheek.―No fever. Just sit and rest a bit, Cat,‖ he advised, and backed up a bit to allow her some space.

  Carrick and Olivia did the same, not taking their eyes from Cat, who was now bending over in half, gripping her head with both hands. The mist grew into a dense fog, nearly obscuring her from view.

  ―Oh, my God,‖ she cried, trying to see them through the mist.―The music is deafening and it‘s making my head explode!‖

  ―What music?‖ Olivia asked, looking around for its possible source..

  ―Can‘t you hear it?‖ Cat‘s eyes were streaming tears of pain.―It‘s the worst pain I‘ve ever...‖

  With that partial declaration, Cat faded and disappeared completely from sight, leaving the mist to slowly evaporate.

  ―Caitriona!‖ Carrick yelled and raced to the empty chair.―Where is she?‖ He waved his hands to clear the remaining mist, then turned to the astonished pair behind him.―What has happened?‖ He was frantic, feeling every bit of the chair with both hands, as if he could conjure her back.

  Olivia, stunned, stood stone still and silent, letting the champagne flow sideways from her glass onto the lawn.<
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  Hamish was white and looked strangely frail. He could not move or speak a word.

  ―God‘s damnation!‖ Carrick raged as he lifted the locket from the empty chair, holding it at arm‘s length as if it were a venomous snake. Realization dawned as he wrapped his fist around it.―That cursed locket,‖ he swore.―It‘s taken her back to 1746!‖

  The statement shook Hamish from his shock.―Oh, dear Lord,‖ he said, terror shaking his voice as he trembled.―Tomorrow is the day Cumberland attacks the castle and fires all the crofts in the glen!‖

  ― The witch‘s words were true,‖ Carrick said, his head in his hands.―I shouldha thought…‖ He raised his face to look at Hamish. They had come into the sitting room of the castle hotel to discuss the situation and plan what to do.

  ―It‘s not your fault, Carrick,‖ Olivia assured him, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

  ― No, it‘s not,‖ Hamish agreed.―The witch led ye to believe the locket would allow ye to travel. She didna say it would affect Cat.‖

  ―True.‖ Carrick nodded.―But it doesna make it less so. We must go to her as soon as we can manage it.‖

  ―How are we supposed to do that?‖ Olivia stood up and began to pace.―We don‘t know how the thing works. And you said the witch used special chants and stones and stuff.‖

  ―Aye, she did,‖ he answered, his face tense recalling the strange ritual.―Do ye no have witches in yer time?‖ he directed to Hamish, who appeared deep in thought.

  ―There are witches in our time,‖ Hamish began slowly.―I knew a pair of sisters in my home, Kingussie. They were verra adept.‖

  ―Then we must go to them,‖ Carrick decided firmly.―Mayhap they will ken the words to send us.‖

  ―That is a possibility,‖ Hamish agreed, uncertainly.―If they are still there. It has been many years since I last saw them, mind.‖

  ―Well, let‘s get going then,‖ Olivia demanded.―Let‘s pack and get to Kingussie.‖ Olivia started walking toward the door. ―We need to find these witches and get to Cat right away. I‘m going to change and pack,‖ she said over her shoulder as she left the room.

  ―We will need a plan,‖ Carrick said as he rose to follow.

  ―Aye, we do,‖ Hamish agreed, joining him.―We can devise it on the way to Kingussie. We‘d best hurry.‖ His voice was grave.―Our Cat has stepped into verra dangerous times.‖

  ―Ohhh,‖ Cat groaned, her hand on her face to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun.―My head...‖ ―‗Twill be fine, lass,‖ a raspy voice said from above where she lay.―I‘ll fix ye some willow tea to stop the ache. Let‘s get ye up slowly, aye?‖

  Cat opened her eyes to see an old, familiar face framed in wild grey hair looking back at her, eyes full of kindness and concern.

  ―Morag?‖ Cat ventured, recalling the witch.―Is that you?‖

  ―Aye, Jenny.‖ She laughed.―So ye do remember me,‖ Morag said, helping Cat to shakily stand.―I dinna expect ye to come. I thought Carrick would be wi‘ ye by now, in yer own time.‖

  ―He was.‖ She was still a bit unsteady as they made their way from the edge of the pool.―I think I was sent back somehow...oh...‖ She suddenly remembered, putting her hand to her throat. ―The locket.‖

  ―The locket sent ye?‖ Morag shook her head in wonder.―The spell was no to bring ye back, only Carrick. Here we are.‖ She led Cat into the cottage and bade her sit at the table.―I‘ll brew ye some willow while ye tell me all.‖

  Cat sat sipping the tea, and told Morag everything that had occurred since Carrick‘s arrival in her time. Morag listened with intense interest to every word. By the time Cat finished the tale, her headache was gone.

  ―‗Tis clear there are things we must do,‖ Morag said, finally.―First, we must get ye to the great house. They can properly care for ye there.‖

  ―To Molly and Ian?‖ she questioned. It was all surreal to her. How did this happen? Here she was in Carrick‘s time and he was stuck in...

  ―Aye, lass.‖ Morag nodded.―I will take ye there the now. But first,‖ she said, taking an end of Cat‘s arisaidh, ―we must hide this away. Tartan is outlawed since the rising. Ye would suffer severe penalty should it be found.‖

  ―But the Act of Proscription doesn‘t happen until August,‖ Cat argued, unpinning it from her gown. ―No one will care until then.‖

  ―Mayhap so, lass,‖ Morag admonished.―But word has come that Cumberland has banned it the now and ye dinna wish to beg the issue, aye?‖ Morag carefully folded the arisaidh and hid it away.

  ―I ken ye are Caitriona,‖ she went on.―But the others, they ken ye as Jenny. Ye must answer to it now. And ye need to speak like a Highland lass. Do ye ken the way?‖

  ―Aye, I do,‖ she answered, smiling.―I ken it well. I will practice yer advice, Morag.‖ She grabbed the ends of the shawl Morag placed around her shoulders.

  ―I hope Carrick finds a way to come soon,‖ she said. She was both sad and worried sick. She knew what history had in store for them all.

  ―As do I, lass,‖ Morag answered gently, leading her toward the door.―I ken the lad well, and he will move the heavens to find ye. Ye‘ll see.‖

  ―Morag,‖ Cat ventured.―There are things I must tell ye as we go along. Things of the future.‖

  ―If ye must,‖ Morag answered as they walked through the forest.

  ―I must.‖ Cat felt a responsibility to warn her. Morag would believe her, after all.―‗Tis for the safety and protection of ye all.‖

  ―I ken, lass.‖ Morag smiled at her.―I ken it will be bad. The runes ha‘ told me so. I will hear ye and help where I can.‖

  ―The first thing is that we must get away from here.‖ Cat was urgent in this.―We must find a place in the hills to hide for a time. Cumberland‘s troops will be here tomorrow or the day after. They will murder, burn, and pillage the entire glen.‖

  Morag stopped in her tracks and looked at Cat.―Ye ken this for certain, do ye?‖

  ―Aye, I do,‖ Cat answered, grasping the old woman‘s hand in hers.―They will burn and pillage the castle tomorrow.‖

  ―Ye have seen this in yer time?‖

  ―I have seen the history of it in my time, aye,‖ Cat assured her.―And I have seen the ruins of the castle myself this verra day before I...‖

  ―I will help ye.‖ Morag nodded in understanding.―We will tell them ye met wi‘ soldiers coming here.‖

  ―A good plan,‖ Cat answered as they arrived at the door to the great house where Morag knocked and gave Cat a conspiratorial look.

  ―Good day to ye, Anne,‖ Morag said to the young woman who answered.―I ha‘ brought Lady MacDonell home. Would ye be so kind as to tell the Laird and Lady Molly we are arrived?‖

  Anne instantly recognized Cat and threw her arms around her in greeting.

  ―Oh my!‖ she squealed.―We thought ye dead! Come through, come.‖ She pulled Cat by the hands into the sitting room.―I‘ll fetch Ian and Molly. Don‘t ye dare move!‖ She hurried out of the room, barely containing her excitement.

  ―Quite a welcome,‖ Cat said to Morag as they stood waiting for Molly.―And aye, I do remember her.‖

  Before Morag could answer, an ebullient Molly flew through the door and stopped dead to look at Cat.

  ―Oh, my good Lord! Jenny MacHendrie, ye are alive!‖ she cried, reaching to enfold Cat in her arms. ―I didna believe it when Carrick said ye were alive and he was gone to find ye. Oh, thank God!‖ She tightened her embrace.

  Tears welled in Cat‘s eyes as she recognized this loving mother-in-law. Memories poured in of the love and friendship they had shared. She felt the kindness and generosity Molly had shown her, and the family she had in this home.

  Before Cat could respond, Ian arrived, a stunned look on his face.―Jenny?‖ he said hesitantly.―Where have ye been all these days? I canna believe it!‖ He hugged her hard, then stepped back to wait for her answer.

  ―I was taken to Edinburgh,‖ she sputtered, creating a story.�
�Ye ken my grandda there? The doctor? And my wee sister?‖ Jenny had had a younger sister, also called Olivia. Her grandfather, Hamish MacAllan, had been a doctor. They moved to Edinburgh some years before after her mother abandoned the family and the wee Olivia. Would they still be alive too? she wondered. She must find them once this crisis was over.

  ―I will tell ye the tale later,‖ Cat continued quickly, trying to distract them from the subject. Remembering the task at hand, she said,―I am so verra happy to be home, but I have urgent news, and we must act quickly.‖

  ―But where is Carrick?‖ Molly wiped tears from her face.―Is he no with ye?‖ she asked.

  ―He will be along in a day or so,‖ Cat lied cautiously.―He sent me ahead to - uh - to warn ye all that the soldiers will be here soon. We must prepare and hide immediately.‖ Cat let out an anxious breath. Pray God they believe me.

  ―Aye, I ken,‖ Ian answered, his demeanor turning grave.―I had word of them coming just the other day. We have already begun to prepare,‖ he assured Cat.

  ―Good,‖ Cat nodded.―There is no time to spare. Ye must send the servants home. Then we must take what we can and go into the hills.‖

  ―We have hidden the valuables and weapons in the cellar in the barn. My father put one there with a false floor after the ‗15,‖ he explained.―Anne is the only servant here as she has nowhere to go. There‘s a wee herdsman‘s shelter deep in the woods. The soldiers wouldna find it, even if they cared to go that far, aye?‖

  ―We were about to go when ye arrived,‖ Molly added.―‗Tis good ye came when ye did.‖ Molly turned to Morag.―Ye‘re coming as well, Morag? Ye canna stay in the glade.‖

  ―Aye,‖ Morag answered.―Let‘s be quick to the task,‖ she said as the tension rose.

  Come quick Carrick. The glen needs ye as never before.

  Carrick, who had insisted on learning to drive early in the trip, pulled the Mercedes to a stop. It had not taken long to find the stone cottage that belonged to the Henderson sisters. Carrick, Hamish, and Olivia had stopped for food at a pub in Kingussie and inquired about them.