by Kara Griffin
Graeme sipped the wine and watched him with interest. “Have you someone in mind? It should be someone we trust.”
“I do have someone, mayhap Anselan. He’s my brother’s son, your own cousin. Yet I fear the council means to sway him.”
“Anselan always followed his own gut. I don’t think he’d take to having the elders challenging him.”
His da nodded. “He’s always taken your side and is trustworthy to hold your interests until your return. I’ve heard rumors they want him to challenge ye for the position. Do ye deem he would?”
“He might. If he does, I will allow it. Anselan cannot best me. He’s never been able to.” Graeme thought of the many times they wrestled and practiced swords when they were lads. Neither wanted to best one another and often they’d given up before the end of the row.
His father chortled. “Ye haven’t fought him since ye were young.”
“Aye, but he hasn’t fought the Black Douglas.”
“Hah, the Douglas. I’ve heard reports of him. That lad will get himself killed if he keeps on. You’ve grown more fearsome in your service to Robert. Aye, it’s done ye good, just as I thought it would. Then it will be settled. And what if Anselan takes your side against the elders?”
“If he takes my side you were right to suggest him to lead whilst I am gone. If not, there’s nothing to do but accept his challenge and select another as chief.”
“There is one other matter. The council … they have become too powerful and I fear my ailment has given them the fortitude to take the lead. ‘Tis time for them to understand their role. I bid ye to make them see reason. I want all of this done before I pass so I may go in peace. I will not die until I ken my clan matters are in order.”
Graeme was incredulous at his father’s request. As a lad, his da always daunted him, except when it came to dealing with the elders. And yet here he allowed others to overrule him. It disconcerted. Had his ailment weakened him to the point he hadn’t bothered to stand up to his council at all?
Thinking back to the incident when he’d been exiled, Graeme considered his da’s condition then. He’d stood against the council’s decision when it concerned his transgression against MacGilley.
“I will hold a meeting with the elders and make the announcement and set the conditions. They will either agree or they can take their leave. You will come?”
He retook his seat. “Nay, for I don’t wish to disturb the proceedings. I will watch from above, but won’t let the elders ken. ‘Tis time they understood you will be laird whether they agree or nay. They will be brash with their view, Graeme. Let them not overwhelm ye.”
Graeme set the wine goblet down. His request almost made him cowardly for he wouldn’t stand up to them on his own. But he couldn’t hold it against him, for he’d always been reserved when dealing with the elder men. He rose and knelt next to his da’s chair. “The elders won’t intimidate me. I will not fail you. I shall uphold your wishes. Have no worry. When my service is over, I’ll return and see to the clan.”
“I ken ye will, son. Now help your auld father to bed, for I need to rest.”
*****
Killing a man wasn’t always easy. Graeme stood on the crenellation and gazed out at the lands surrounding the keep. Many trees blocked his view of the great mountain he knew to be there in the distance. Countless nights he’d dreamt of his return and none of those dreams came close to the veracity.
His conversation with his father should have troubled him yet it did not. He wasn’t sure what Anselan would do. If he challenged him, Graeme would have no choice but to accept it. Anselan was his closest childhood friend. They’d pretended sword play, swam together in the loch, climbed trees, and threw rocks at the sheep. He’d spent many joyous days with him and the last thing he wanted was to have to kill him.
“There you are. You disappeared after supper.” Kerrigan stood next to him, her long locks blew behind her from the hefty winds high atop the keep.
“I needed a quiet place to think.”
“It is beautiful here. Serene even. Your clansmen are arriving.”
“Are they?”
“Many have already gathered. Do you know what you’ll say or do?” Kerrigan clasped her hand with his and smiled.
“It’s what I’ve been thinking of.”
Kerrigan released her hand and wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her close. “Is it strange to be here? Are you thinking of your wife?”
Graeme was taken aback by her question. “Nay. ‘Tis the truth I haven’t thought of Sorcha in a long time. Why would you ask about her?”
“Your mother has spoken of naught else but her this day. From what I gather, she was fond of her. I fear I may not compare to the woman and your mother will detest me.”
He tugged her closer. “I ken not of their relations nor do I care and nor should you. Sorcha wasn’t regarded by the clans’ people here, least of all my mother.”
“Then why would your mother speak highly of her?”
He turned her face and tilted it back. “Likely she means to intimidate you. But ken this, lass, I have no room for any woman but you in my heart.”
“That is the kindest thing you have ever said to me, Graeme. It is the reason I find myself filled with love for you.”
He placed a kiss on her lips. “Worry not, wife. I will attend this meeting and we will leave in the morn as planned.”
“Will you not wait your father’s fate?”
“Nay. He will not expect me to await his death. I suspect he’ll allow me to leave as long as matters are settled.”
“Will they be?”
“One way or another. I must go. I’ll come when I can. Sleep well, sweet.” He was reluctant to let her leave for he only felt solaced when she was near.
“I shall enjoy the comfortable bed while I can.”
He released her and hastened to the great hall. As he descended the steps, he spotted his da who sat in a chair at the far edge of the corridor. Those below wouldn’t be able to view him. Graeme wasn’t certain if he was relieved he was there or not. He wondered if his father would interfere or interject his view on the discussions that would take place even though he said he wouldn’t. It was doubtless he wouldn’t.
His clansmen, all by the look of them, gathered. Some parted and gave him a wide berth to the main table where the elders sat.
He reached the top of the table where Fergus sat in the laird’s chair. All talk ceased and nary a movement made by anyone. Silence, the uncomfortable mien of the start of his reign as chieftain and laird settled him. To Graeme it was a good beginning. He wanted them to be fearful of him and hoped to coerce their response to his commands.
“My father still breathes, Fergus. This seat is only occupied by the laird. Do you imply to take his place even though he has yet to pass?”
Fergus stood and scraped the stone floor as the heavy chair moved back. “I presume nothing. Do you intend to fill your father’s seat?”
“When the time comes, aye I do. For now I pay him my respect and offer solace even as he ails. What of you?” Graeme directed his question to all those present. No one uttered an answer. “We shall move my father’s chair and no one will occupy it. That is until he recovers or a new laird is proclaimed.” He hefted the chair and moved it next to the wall and set it down with a bang to show his affront.
“That is why I have called this meeting.” Fergus maintained his position.
Graeme rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. He wanted to present a formidable stance and did so, given many men moved back. “I believe I called this meeting.”
“You have no right to be here on Cameron lands or to call a meeting. I say we vote to banish ye forever since ye didn’t uphold your sentence.”
Graeme fisted his hand. He prayed for patience when dealing with the old man. “Aye, you are correct, Fergus. I wasn’t supposed to return until my service concluded. I will not.”
“Are ye not standing before us or are we
peering at a ghost?”
His comment was meant to evoke humor amongst his clansmen but no one laughed. That gave Graeme more confidence. He realized at that moment his clansmen stood behind him, with him, not against him.
“I am here for a brief visitation. My father wished to see me before he passed, to say his goodbyes to his only son. Do any of you object to the laird’s request?”
No one spoke or raised an objection.
“I mean to leave in the morn. Before I do so, we need to settle the matter before us. My father will not likely survive his illness. He bids me to leave the Bruce’s service and return to be laird.” Graeme walked through the crowd of his comrades when a rise of murmurs sounded. “I refused.”
Fergus chortled. “Aye, so ye don’t want to be laird. I always thought ye a coward, lad.”
Graeme turned and approached him. His steps pounded the stone floor. Fergus backed against the wall. As much as he wanted to grip the man’s tunic and toss him from the keep, he took a deep breath and turned back to address his rash statement.
“I refused to return before my service is over. I will honor my word and protect the king. If you deem me a coward, then I bid ye to see to our passionate king who has no regard for his own safety.”
Several men raised a cheer.
Graeme held up his hand. “When my service is through, I will return to lead our clan as my father wills. In the meantime, someone must be chosen to handle the duties.”
“We cannot allow that, lad. Nay, for we will challenge you for the position of the head of the clan. The council will choose their champion and the man we wish to be laird. If ye best him we will speak no more of this. If he bests you, you shan’t return to these lands.”
“Who do you choose?”
Fergus stepped forward. “We elect Anselan.”
A rush of mutters rose.
Graeme approached his longtime friend and cousin. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but he if had to fight Anselan, he would. “I accept the challenge if he desires it.”
The men in the hall stepped back and cleared the center of the large chamber. All waited for Anselan’s response.
Graeme unsheathed his sword and held it at his side. “What say ye? Let us settle this matter once and for all.”
Anselan took his sword from its scabbard and held it for a moment. He peered at the others and then tossed his sword to the floor by his feet. “I shan’t take part in this atrocity. Our laird wants his son to follow him as do I, as does my father, as do we all. I will not fight the rightful laird.”
Graeme sheathed his sword and approached Anselan. “I need someone I trust to see to the clan while I fulfill my vow to the Bruce. Will you, Anselan?”
Anselan knelt. “I give you my fealty and will serve you with pleasure, Graeme.” He glanced up at him and said, “But I have one condition.”
Graeme was handed a cup of ale by Ewan. He nodded in thanks. “What is this condition?”
“That ye return when you can so I can give you reports. Do not await the years’ service before you return for you will be welcomed whenever you wish to return whether your service is over or nay.”
He turned and faced his comrades. “Are there any objections?”
Nays, sounded from his clansmen.
Fergus glared at him from the wall. The other elders moved forward and appeared to give their support. Graeme wanted to address the elder’s involvement in the clan for their overzealous nature caused much grief for his father. He wouldn’t allow such insolence when he was laird, and he thought to squelch it now.
“While I have your attention, I wish to speak of clan matters. We are fortunate to behold the guidance of those who have experience. But it is time for the council to step back and let the laird lead. I am not saying we won’t seek their guidance, but only one should have the right to ensure the law. Otherwise there is chaos. I propose we meet once a month and discuss any matters the elders wish to present and there all will be rectified or handled. Does the council agree?”
Fergus threw his cup to the floor, making a bang from the force of it. “You disrespect us.”
“I am not my father, Fergus. If you don’t accept my leadership, you may leave the clan. I will not balk on this issue.”
Fergus spit on the floor. “This be a dark day for the Cameron Clan.” He stomped from the hall with a bang to the door. Graeme was glad to see his back.
Those who stood around him agreed. None raised any objection.
“Before ye take to your beds, I ask you all to do what it takes to protect one another. These are troubling times. Until we gain our independence from England, we must stand together with clans we may not wish to give our allegiance. But remember, we do what we must for Scotland. Just as I must leave you and serve the king, I ask you to serve him as well.” Graeme raised his cup and saluted all those within the chamber.
A resounded round of cheers rose.
Graeme hadn’t meant to evoke cheers from his clan, but all raised their cups and shouted, For king and country.
The last of his clansmen finally left, and he took the steps happy and hopeful for his future. Not only that, but he’d get a few hours of sleep in a comfortable bed next to his wife.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he found Kerrigan standing next to his father.
“Well done, Graeme. This bonnie lady told me of your renown. She also tells me you wed her, but no priest was present.”
“Nay, there was no time to have our union blessed.”
“I long to have my son wed to a worthy woman. Aye, on the morrow you will come to my chamber before the noon sun. A priest will bless this union before ye leave.”
“Da, I planned to do so when I return. We must leave in the morn, well before noon. There is no time.”
His father grabbed the rail and stood on shaky legs. “We will make time. You will abide by my last demand, Graeme. Not only will ye wed this lass, but ye will stay another night before ye go off to protect the king.”
He nodded. His father was after all still the laird and he’d follow orders. “Can I help ye back to your chamber?” He took his da’s arm and assisted him and took most of his weight. Once he settled in bed, his da chatted about the meeting and the unexpected events.
“You did better than I would’ve. Your grandda would’ve been proud. I ken you miss him, but you’ve got his fighting spirit, lad.”
Graeme set another cover over his da. “I do miss him, da. He was a good man. I thought Anselan would accept the challenge.”
“Would ye have killed him if he did?”
“Aye, I would’ve had no choice, would I?”
“Anselan is a good man as well and will hold down the keep until your return. Now about this wife, she’s a bonnie one and prettier than a rose. She’ll make ye a far better wife than your first and be a good laird’s wife. Unlike mine. But all men are entitled to their mistakes. The only good thing your mother ever gave me was you.”
He was astounded by his da’s kind words. Being laird, his father was usually standoffish and gruff, and most of the time disagreeable and unapproachable.
“Are ye trying to gain favor with God by saying such things?” He made light of it even though he was honored by his da’s sentiment.
“Tis the truth, ye ken me well. I am.”
“Sleep well, Da. I’ll see ye in the morn.” Graeme hurried to the chamber given to him and Kerrigan. She watched him as he approached the bed. With each step he removed his garments and by the time he pulled back the cover on the bed he was naked.
“Glory be, Graeme, you verily are handsome.” She patted the bedding.
He flopped down and placed his head on her abdomen. Kerrigan ran her hands through his hair. The gentle caress soothed him. Of all that transpired this day, this was where he wanted to be.
“You are tense, husband. What can I do to ease you?”
He rolled onto his back. “Touch me.” Graeme closed his eyes and focused on her hands. She
coyly touched his chest and arms and caressed him with the delicate strokes. She kept up the massage and as her hand grazed his thigh, he opened his eyes. When she took hold of his erection and fondled him, Graeme moaned as a pleasurable jolt ran through him. He allowed her to continue the torturous massage until he could take no more.
Kerrigan squealed when he tossed her back and entered her. He couldn’t control the urge to thrust against her. His breath rasped from the exertion and he realized he might be hurting her. He slowed his movements, but it was for naught.
“Harder, my love. Aye, I want you to move harder.”
Kerrigan drew a deep gasp and tightly closed her eyes. She was lost to him and delighted in the thorough of passion.
He was glad she reached climax because within seconds of feeling the sensation of her womanhood convulsed around his sex, he couldn’t withhold his. Graeme stilled and thought he’d turned to stone for all he could move. When his muscles relaxed, he fell beside her and closed his eyes. He tried without much success to slow his breath.
Kerrigan kissed his face, and he grinned.
“Ah, lass, keep loving me like that and I’ll die a happy man.”
“That is all I want, your happiness.”
“And I yours.” He pulled her into his embrace. “Are ye up to marrying me before the priest on the morrow?”
“Let me consider it …”
“Kerrigan, this is no time to jest.”
She giggled and pinched his arm. “I will wed ye. After all it is your father’s last request.”
“So you’re saying you’ll wed me only because my father bid you to do so?”
She leaned toward the table that held the only lit candle and blew it out. “That and mayhap because I adore your sweet arse. We should sleep.”
Graeme pulled her back and kissed her thoroughly. “Aye we should, but I’m enjoying being in a bed with you. Lay back, lass and I’ll show you a few things about lovemaking.” He moved to the end of the bed and bent her leg to give him access.
