Laird of the Mist

by Foery MacDonell

  ―A family of many talents,‖ Molly commented carefully.

  ―I can show ye how to make yer paints and brushes,‖ Morag put in. ―Ye have all ye need right around ye, lass. Berries, flowers, the dyes of nature.‖

  ―I forgot about that,‖ Olivia said, recalling her small knowledge of how such things had been made in this time. ―It seems there will be a lot to teach me,‖ she replied with enthusiasm.

  ―And so I shall.‖ Morag patted her hand. ―First thing tomorrow, aye?‖

  Oh, aye, Molly thought. Something was not quite right here. The characters and stories matched, true. Everyone and everything looked the same. But it all felt—not wrong—just off somehow. As if you were looking in the glass, but the glass was slightly askew at an odd angle. Probably just weariness setting in, nothing more. It had been a difficult few days and everyone was exhausted. Just her imagination. Still...

  They rode for several days, stopping at Inns when they could find one, sleeping under stars when they could not. The spring weather allowed for some comfort, despite the chill at night. Carrick kept a keen watch for signs of soldiers and, as much as possible, kept off the well-traveled roads to Inverness, riding instead through glens and forest. They followed streams which he knew eventually fed into the river Ness and provided camouflage from those who might recognize him.

  On the second day, they made a small camp near a rushing burn as dusk began to create shadows in the clearing Carrick had chosen. The trees and shrubs provided enough cover to feel safely hidden. Situated on a small hill, they could see a crofter‘s cottage below with its chimney puffing into the clear evening sky.

  They settled onto a granite outcropping to eat their dried meat and hard cheese — a tasty repast, if meager.

  ―Iapologizefor the cold fare,‖ Carrick said, extendingan oatcake to Cat, who eagerlytook it. She was quite hungry after the long day of riding. ―I dinna wish to build a cooking fire. It could attract attention to us.‖

  ―No matter...‖Cat swallowed apieceof sharp Highland cheese. ―Thecheese is delicious. Mollyreally does a wonderful job making it. There are definite advantages to owning your own cattle.‖ She smiled at him, his face fading in the shadows of the encroaching night.

  ―Aye, there are at that.‖ Carrick leaned over and kissed her lightlyon the cheek. ―At least we can keep everyone fed through the hard times ye talk about. Do the bruises pain ye much?‖

  Cat put a hand to the cheekbone under her eye. It had been a nasty purple, but was quickly fading into an ugly yellow. ―I hardly feel it at all now,‖ she answered. ―It would look better if I had some make-up to put on it.‖

  ―We‘ll see what we can find in Inverness. It doesna look that bad, Cat,‖ Carrick assured her. ―And it doesna matter how it looks. Only that it doesna cause ye pain. I swear, if I ever see that bastard again, I‘ll…‖

  ―Nay, Carrick.‖ She put a hand out to calm him. ―No more violence, aye? Promise me? Best to just stay out of the way and mind our business.‖

  Carrick laid back on the rock, his dinner finished. ―I suppose yer right at that,‖ he agreed with a sigh. He opened a small silver flask and took a swig of the whisky from his distillery. ―Here, Cat.‖ He handed it to her. ―Have a wee dram. It will help ye sleep.‖

  ―Ye say that every night.‖ She laughed and took a sip. The first time she tried it, she had coughed and sputtered it back out again. ―At least I‘m keeping it down now. I‘m actually beginning to enjoy the taste. Grows on ye, doesn‘t it?‖

  ―Oh,aye,‖ Carrick answered, taking the flask back again and capping it. ―Ye can taste the Highlands in it. The heather, the honey, the waters…‖

  ―I can taste all of that when I kiss ye.‖ Cat leaned forward and brushed his lips with her own. ―I am learning to savour the whisky the same way I savour yer kisses.‖

  Carrick‘s eyes filled with a glimmering mixture of love and passion, tender and intense at the same time. He pulled her quickly into his arms and kissed her more fervently.

  ―Iwas right to go and find ye,‖ he whispered between breaths. ―Iwill never let ye go, lass. Ye give me life and breath.‖

  ―I dinna wish to go anywhere without ye, Carrick,‖ she replied. ―Mayhap we should be off to our blankets the now? The sun rises early here.‖

  ―Aye,‖ he answered, putting a hand up her skirt. ―Let‘s off to the blankets where I can kiss ye properly.‖

  It was very late when Cat heard something like an explosion and tortured cries of children in the distance. The moon had risen full above them, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air. She thought she had been dreaming when the sounds filtered into her sleep, but she quickly realized something was amiss.

  She put out a hand to find Carrick missing from her side and abruptly sat up. Alarm shot fireworks through her stomach like molten liquid. Cat threw the blanket off and rose to her knees to look for Carrick. Surely the English were not this close? They had seen not a single sign of them so far. But then, perhaps she and Carrick had been begging fate to attempt the trip to Inverness so soon.

  She narrowed her eyes and was able to make out Carrick lying on the granite outcrop where they had eaten their dinner a few hours before. Throwing her shawl around her, she made her way to him, stooping as low as she could so as not to be seen.

  She heard every crackle of twigs and leaves underfoot amidst the horrible sounds coming from the small glen below. It seemed an eternitybefore she reached Carrick‘s side, shivering with a fear she had never experienced in her own time.

  ―What is it?‖ she whispered low.

  ―The Sasunnach,‖Carrick whispered back. ―Staylow, Cat. Idinna think we can be seen, but best to be safe all the same.‖

  ―How long have they been there?‖

  ―I dinna ken. An hour mayhap? I woke to the voices. They dragged the family out…something about a fugitive of the rising and a tartan shawl in the croft. I couldna hear it all. They shot the husband—I assume it was the husband—and took him away with them. Then they fired the croft…‖

  Cat felt sick in her stomach as she watched the scene below. A woman with a small child and what appeared to be a teenaged boy, huddled together on the ground, looking up at the flames consuming their home. The poor woman was trying to calm the wailing child, while the boy stood frozen, their forms lit by the grotesque firelight.

  ―Are the soldiers gone? Can we go to them?‖ Cat asked. A desire to run down the hill to offer assistance overwhelmed her. Her solitary thought was a combination of compassion for the wretched family, and bitter revulsion for the Sasunnach.

  ―Aye,‖ Carrick answered as he rose from the rock and helped Cat up. ―We‘ll go to them the now. But mind ye, Cat. Ye do as I say, ye hear? I needna tell ye…‖

  ―No, ye needna tell me,‖ she answered quietly, followinghim as theybegan their descent to the pitiful scene below.

  They went in sil ence, Cat holding the hem of Carrick‘s shirt in front of her so as not to lose him or stumble on the uneven side of the hill. They slowly approached the woman who was attempting to rise from the ground, still holding the now quiet child in her arms. Her face was bathed in soot, silent tears, and despair.

  ―I‘m Laird Carrick MacDonell of Ben Fhithich,‖ he said in a tone meant to soothe. ―This is my wife,

  Caitriona. We are here to help ye. What has happened here?‖

  ―Ye are the Laird MacDonell?‖ She wiped the side of her face with the dirty sleeve of her blouse.

  Alarm suddenly froze her expression. ―Ye must leave, Laird. Ye and yer lady must go from here, before ye

  bring more evil upon us.‖

  ―We want to help ye,‖ Cat broke in. ―We arena here to bring ye evil…‖

  The woman‘s face was white with terror. ―Oh, aye, ye will!‖ she exclaimed. ―They took away my

  Duncan for his part in the rising. Everyone kens the laird was a Jacobite. They searched the house and found

  my old tartan shawl. I forgot it was even there, Lair
d! That‘s when theyfired the croft and shot my Duncan. If

  they find ye here, well…‖

  ―Nay,‖ Carrick put out a hand to steady her. ―They have gone, lass. Theyhave what theysought. And

  we must get ye and yer family to safety. I can well see ye have no oneelse to help ye.‖

  ―Sir,‖ the boy broke in. He looked to be about fifteen by Cat‘s reckoning. A boy in her own time,

  surely. But nearly a man in this. ―I can well help my mother, Laird. We dinna need yer help, I assure ye.‖ He

  drew his lean body to stand even straighter, as if proud to take the role of man of the family. Carrick let a small smile spread on his face in reply to the show of the boy‘s pride. ―Aye, I havena

  doubt that ye can, lad. What is yer name?‖

  ―Dougal, Laird,‖ he answered, extending a hand in introduction.

  ―Dougal, then,‖ Carrick answered, shaking the lad‘s hand. ―Then humor me, Dougal. Get what ye can

  and take yer mother and… sister?‖

  Dougal nodded in affirmation.

  ―Get your things and take yer family to Ben Fhittich. Here is my sgian dubhs.‖ He pulled the short

  knife from the hiding place in his hose. ― Show it to anyone there and tell them I sent ye. Tell them it is my

  order to give ye food and shelter until I return from Inverness. Then we shall see what to do about yer father.

  Aye, lad?‖

  The boy‘s face lit with pride that the Laird himself had trusted him so. ―Oh, aye, sir.‖ Dougal nodded.

  ―As ye say, Laird.‖

  ―We canna impose…‖ the woman began.

  ―Aye, ye can and ye must,‖ Carrick answered her. ―What is yer name, good lady?‖ ―Mary Anderson, Laird.‖

  ―Well then, Mary. Young Dougal here will get ye safely to Ben Fhittich. The bairn needs food and

  shelter, as well, aye? Ye have no other remedy for it, do ye no?‖

  Mary considered for a moment and let out a sigh. ―Aye, Laird. As ye say then.‖ ―Good,‖ Carrick ran his fingers through his hair, unruly in the gathering mist. He turned back to

  Dougal. ―Come, lad. Let‘s see what we can make of this mess. Cat?‖ He looked back at her standing next to

  Mary. She had been silent through the exchange.

  ―Aye, Carrick,‖ she answered. ―I ken what to do here.‖

  Carrick smiled and nodded at her before taking Dougal by the arm and leading him toward the croft.

  Perhaps there would be something, anything, this unfortunate family could salvage. For now and the

  foreseeable future, Beinn Fhittich would be their home and sanctuary.

  It had taken less than an hour to see the tattered family on their way, Carrick giving final orders and warnings to Dougal to ensure their safe trip to Beinn Fhithich.

  The lad seemed competent enough and had a skill with the two horses they had managed to find after the Sasunnach had released them from the shabby corral. Cat could only pray they would remain safe. She had no doubt they would find some small measure of security at Beinn Fhithich. Molly would certainly see to it.

  Finally viewing Inverness from the crest of a hill, Cat sucked in a stunned breath. ―‘Tis nothing like the Inverness of my time,‖ she commented. ―Not that I would have expected it to be, but surely I though it would be more developed than this! Most of the houses are veritable huts!‖ She waved her hand across the vista to indicate the small houses with thatched roofs.

  ―Aye,‖ Carrick agreed. ―I was in yer Inverness,‖ he said, allowing Breamus his head to graze in the tender grass. ―It is still a major port, but the people are poor. And ye see there?‖ He pointed to an enormous heap of rubble in the distance. ―That is what is left of Fort George. Theybuilt it incorporating parts of the old castle.‖

  ―What happened to it?‖Cat a sked. She had been to Inverness Castle in her time, but it had been rebuilt in 1836 and was red sand stone.

  ―The Jacobites blew it up,‖ he answered, matter of factly. ―Ironic though,‖ he continued, shaking his head. ―A French officer - L'Epine, I believe his name was, directed the placement of the explosives and they went off prematurely. He was killed in the explosion.‖

  ―I guess he wasna that good at his job then,‖ Cat remarked. ―At least it isn‘t a fortress now. Lucky for us.‖

  ―Aye,‖ he agreed. ―Let‘s on to town, then,‖ he said, pulling the reins in and urging Breamus down the hill. ―And mind ye,‖ he added, ―We must be even more watchful than before, aye?‖

  ‖Aye, Carrick,‖ Cat nodded her assent, the chilling warning making her flesh prickle.

  ―What is it, Cat? I can see yer troubled.‖ He signaled Breamus to stop and turned to Cat, who appeared strained.

  ―Oh,nothing.‖ She rubbed her arms to chase away the chill. ―I just feel overwhelmed at times. I am living the history I learned about in my time. It‘s a verra odd experience.‖

  ―So it must be,‖ Carrick agreed. ―Yer time was a shock to me as well. I wonder, do we ever become accustomed to it?‖

  ―I dinna ken,‖ she answered somberly. ―But I do wonder if my coming back here with ye—well, I have changed some history already. Perhaps Ian would not have been injured, Anne would still be alive, if I had stayed in my own time. Perhaps I should have…‖

  ―Cat,‖ Carrick attempted to sootheher concerns. ―Wecan never ken if yer comingcaused those things to happen, aye? How could we ever ken it? If ye were not meant to be here for some reason, I think ye would no have been sent back. Mayhap there is something good to come of it, ye ken? Ye must think of it as a good thing. Yer knowledge of the future canna be but useful. Andyer grandda‘s skill as a doctor will only serve to help in the days to come, aye? I can tell ye those things for a certainty. Events will unfold as they must and we may see the answer, or we may not. But it does ye no good to believe it bad.‖

  ―Aye, Carrick.‖ Cat did her best to smile at him. ―Ye‘re right. I‘ll do my best to make it a good thing, to contribute in a positive way in all things.‖ She brushed away a stray lock of hair the breeze had lifted. ―Do ye think we will ever go back to my time?‖

  ―I dinna ken, Cat,‖ he answered, casting his eyes to the cloudless sky. ―Do ye miss it so much?‖

  ―Some things I miss, but I‘d rather be with ye, no matter where,‖ she assured him. ―As long as I do no harm.‖

  He put his hand out to her shoulder in affection and reassurance. ―Nay, Cat,‖ he said gently. ―Ye could never do that. It‘s not in ye to do harm.‖

  ―But maybe I will without meaning to,‖ she answered.

  ―Nay, never.‖ He squeezed her shoulder. ―Let‘s on to town, aye? Think of the good ye will do for the family and clan. Ye are their Lady now,as before. Only good can come of that,‖ he said as they began their descent from the hill into Inverness.

  Olivia sat in the garden, one iPod earbud tucked discreetly in her ear. She had placed it strategically under her hair, bushy from the lack of conditioner in this time. Everyone was busy with their chores and she sorely needed a break from Morag‘s tutoring on herbs, so she snuck out to a secluded spot to relax and listen to music. She was sketching a nice grouping of Foxglove when she dropped her pad, startled at an unfamiliar sound.

  ―What the…?‖ She turned to see an equally startled Ian behind her , leaning on padded crutches. ―Oh!‖ She breathed a sigh of relief. ―It‘s you. What are ye doing out here?‖

  Ian gingerly lowered himself to sit on the bench beside her. ―Practicing with the crutches yer grandda gave me,‖ he answered, obviouslyproud of his progress. ―Do ye mind if I sit with ye for a bit?‖

  ‗Uh—no, not at all.‖ Olivia put her hand to her ear, trying to figure a way to get rid of the earbud before he noticed it. ―Ye‘re doing verra well with those, Ian. I dinna expect to see ye up and around so quickly. It isna too painful, I hope.‖

  ―Abit,‖ he said with a small grimace. ―But worth it to sit in the garden with ye.‖

/>   ―That‘s verra flattering.‖ Olivia put her hand up under her hair to retrieve the earbud. It caught in a tangle and she couldn‘t free it.

  ―What is it, Olivia?‖ He looked at her oddly. ―Is something caughtin yer hair? Do ye need help?‖ He reached a hand to offer her assistance.

  ―No!‖ She grabbed his wrist to stop him. ―It‘s fine. Just a twig or somethingfrom when Iwas lyingon the grass…‖

  ―A twig? Then what is this?‖ Ian lifted the wire that was hanging over her shoulder and began to pull on it gently. It caused the iPod to peek out from the skirt pocket where she had secreted it.

  ―Leave it be!‖ Olivia pulled the wire from his hand and the earbud dropped from her hair. ―It‘s nothing,I told ye,‖ she reprimanded, quickly pushing it all back into her skirt and accidentally disconnecting the earbuds from the unit.

  ―Aye, it‘s summat.‖ Ian‘s curiosity was fierce now. ―What is it? I havna seen anything like it. Some new contraption from Edinburgh? Do let me see it.‖

  ―I canna!‘ she exclaimed, slapping her hand over the pocket. In her anxiety to hide it, her hand slapped too hard, the pressure hitting the on button and causing music to play over the builtin speakers. ―Oh, shit!‖ she cursed as she fumbled in her pocket to turn the thing off.

  Ian reached over and grabbed her hand away. ―Now Iken for certain ‗tis summat. Is that music I hear? Let me see it, please.‖ He firmly pulled her hand from the pocket, the hand containing the iPod and the disconnected earbuds. Carrie Underwood‘s voice filled the space, I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights…

  ―What is thisthing?‖ Ian was fascinated and stunned, his mouth gaping as he turned the iPod over and over to examine it. ―What‘s a Louisville slugger? And ye attack cheating men in Edinburgh? Isna it easier just to leavethem?‖

  ―Give it back, Ian. I‘m not supposed to have it!‖ Olivia jumped up and stood before Ian, trying to wrest it from his hand. ―My grandda is going to kill me! Please!‖