by Fiona Faris
"I still have no clues about the incessant deaths of youths. How do I utter words of encouragement tae the sad widows and angry youths?" Callum said after they had examined all the warriors and were now walking out of the training ground.
"The same way ye had just done! Ye have the words built in ye! Ye have given hopes to the warriors and gathered their hidden strength," Gregory said as he closed the gate behind him and turned for the keep on a path covered with a mix of autumn leaves and patches of summer grass.
"We might need tae train the younger lads, too. They are growing too old and much stronger fer just harvesting tasks.!" Callum suggested, walking beside him
"Tis a good idea. They are the future of the clan and the strength of tomorrow. They should be trained as soon as possible. Cahill shall see to the training. When should it start?" Gregory asked, felling some tree branches with his sword.
"As soon as all the training equipment arrives from the village, we shall commence the training. I have some thoughts about hosting a duel with attractive rewards. It could serve as a boost to morale. What do ye think?" Callum asked, glancing at Gregory.
"Tis a good idea. But I'd rather we make a do and gather everyone fer a harvest. It will foster strength among all, and we can have the duel after the harvest. That could be like waiting for the spring after this gruesome winter. I see a whole lot of peace coming," Gregory said and slid his sword into his scabbard. They shook hands and went their separate ways, but before either man reached his destination, it started to rain.
Callum was tired as he watched Gregory move toward his horse. He thought of what could have happened if they hadn’t become acquainted. He thought about Gregory being Laird if he’d not been nominated. He knew that he would have undoubtedly done well. They both seemed to have the same notion and zeal for the clan. A small smile touched his lips as he remembered how Gregory had counseled him and kept guiding him to the right track. How they both had engaged themselves in sword-fighting, mastering more skills and gaining more experience in warfare
Remembering that the day was fast spent, and Gretchen and Merriam would be at home waiting for him to eat lunch together, he called goodbye to Gregory, who was now on his horse.
"Stay safe, my laird!" he shouted back as he kicked his horse to a gallop and rode away in the rain.
* * *
At dawn, inside the Laird's keep, Gretchen was with Merriam, laughing and talking at length about their youthful times. They were in the mood for discussions as they sat together with Merriam's hands clasped around Gretchen's. The recent week had brought much improvement to Merriam’s health; her strength had much improved, and her pale skin was infused with a healthy flush. If not for the lines of age upon her face, she would have appeared as beautiful as she had been as a young maiden.
Ava ran inside, covered in dirt and sand. She had been playing all around the keep with the other children. She glanced at herself, unaware of how dirty she looked until Merriam and Gretchen laughed, pointing at her. She smiled back and jumped into her mother’s arms.
"Go and have yer bath, wee one. The Laird would be cross at ye seeing ye dirty so like this. Then we can have our lunch with him," Merriam said, brushing back Ava’s dust-caked hair.
"Yes, my lady Merriam! I’ll go straight-away," Ava said and scampered off to do as she’d been bid.
"Such a beautiful, wee lass. She seems tae be smarter than her age," Merriam said, glancing at Gretchen who was now smiling.
"Haha! Ye are right, Mama! She is a smart lass and playful, too," Gretchen said and laughed.
She thought about telling Merriam about her secret. She wanted to tell her how she had been having funny feelings for Callum, well, maybe not quite amusing. Just that she saw how handsome he looked, discharging his duties tirelessly every day, and how he had helped her, and Ava find a place to belong. More than that, he’d been a friend, a companion, even. But she didn't think the time was right. Perhaps she would figure out when the time was right to reveal the secret yearnings of her heart. She wondered if Callum felt the same tug of attraction. She thought he might, for she saw the way Callum looked at her, and her cheeks flushed as she recalled how she felt with his hungry eyes upon her. She knew that look; it mirrored the look in her own eyes when she gazed at him.
The following week, the autumn harvest was in full swing. Crofters swarmed the keep from across Clan Glenbogle lands to bring in the Laird’s share of the bounty. The gathering was taking place soon. Callum had told Gretchen about it, and she had advised him on how he should go about it. The pressure of the party might be partly to blame if anything should go wrong. He knew there might be light-fingered people who would think about stealing some money from innocent people.
“What do ye think can be done to be rid the troublemakers?” Callum said as he eased himself in his office chair, gazing at Gretchen.
“We put up guards throughout the keep and courtyard tae monitor the do. This will not just curb stealing, but also put a quick end to drunken warriors who might want to engage in fights,” she said and curtsied.
“Aye! That’s witty! I shall put that into action.” Callum said and nodded with a smile. He was making progress, and he was glad.
By evening, all preparation had been put in place. Callum imagined how his clansmen would look as they started trooping into the large compound. He knew some would be dressed in fine cloth and leather, which would identify them as wealthy, while others would be covered in worn homespun fabric. The rich would look radiant, and their skin would gleam. The poor would look shabby and haggard.
These are the things he was planning to correct. There should be no distance between the rich and the poor. There should be a oneness that would strengthen the clan from enemy invasion. He would bridge the gap between the rich and poor and make the clan powerful in unity. If he were able to do that, then he would solve all problems. He walked toward the main hall where he knew he would find Gretchen and his mother. As he walked in, he was yet again surprised to find them both reeling in laughter.
"My laird! What brings ye tae us tonight?" Gretchen asked, bewildered to see Callum approach looking relaxed as if there were no cares in his head.
"Nothing much tae do, my lady! If ye would allow me, I shall join in yer talks till supper comes and eat myself tae sleep,” Callum said as he eased himself into the armchair beside them. "How do ye fare, Mother?" he asked with a smile on his face.
"Quite well, my laird. Thanks to ye for bringing such a wonderful maid tae the keep. My health had seen a drastic turn," Merriam said with a smile touching the corners of her lips. Callum murmured words of gratitude to Gretchen and thought about her again.
Every word that his mother had said was right. He had seen a drastic turn in his mother's well-being. He wondered what could have happened if he had never brought Gretchen to the keep. Maybe his mother would have died, and he would have released himself from the burden of the lairdship out of frustration. Despite the fact he was not available to see her every day, he suddenly felt the desire to see her all the time and keep her close to him.
All he could think of was a better way to thank Gretchen. He never knew how to offer his thanksgiving. Maybe he would discharge her from the maid's duties and promote her to a new position. Well, perhaps not. He knew she loved to be around his mother and vice versa. He knew what he could do. He would give her one day’s leave, to just enjoy herself, no work for that one day. He thought it a good idea and cleared his throat.
"I cannae thank you enough, Gretchen, fer yer wonderful works ye have been doing in this keep. I have noticed everything, and I declare tomorrow a free day fer ye! Ye are excused from the duties of tomorrow. Have a good time while it lasts. I shall have another maid take care of Mother," Callum said and without waiting for a reply, stood from the chair. It was time for dinner already.
Gretchen was stunned to hear Callum give her a break. She never needed it. Caring for Callum's mother naturally doled out comforts to her. She found it challen
ging to stay idle. Or maybe she hadn't heard him right. She knew his intention was harmless and plain, but how could she survive a day without working at all?
After she had served dinner and all of them had eaten together, she thought of what to do to the following day.
"Shall I take a walk and see fer myself how this town has grown? Or shall I just sleep in?" she said to herself and suddenly remembered Fraser. She was surprised with herself. Since she got to the keep, she hadn't had much time to grieve for Fraser. She had been happy, and she knew Fraser would be glad to see her happy, too. The thought of Fraser led to another idea. She knew what to do tomorrow now. At daybreak, she would make food to take to the helpless widows in the clan. As the thought hovered in her mind, it dawned on her that she needed the break after all. There were many more people to look after in the clan. She knew that if she could help as many widows as possible, the clan would be strengthened, and much credit would go to Callum, too. "So help me. Laird! " she murmured happily and turned in for the night.
As the moon gave way to the sun, a distant rooster announced the dawn. That got Gretchen up, and she headed to the kitchen. She worked tirelessly through the morning, preparing a variety of foods with the help of the other maids.
Before the shadows lengthened in the afternoon, she had already visited the widows in the town and gifted them with food and a little coin that she had saved from her wages, and by the evening, she had seen almost all the widows in the clan. They all had been happy to feel cared for and had blessed her and the Laird for such a pleasant surprise.
After she had finished with the day’s activities, she rode home in a carriage she had requested of the Laird for fun, which he had gladly given. Before she reached the gate, word had already reached Callum about the good deeds of his maid. He couldn't wait in his chambers to feel her presence. He was stunned. So, he stood by the gate and waited for her return. In some minutes, he saw the carriage and horses appear on the road approaching the keep. A huge grin was carved on his face as the horses neighed and the wagon screeched to a halt.
The carriage driver quickly jumped down from the cab and bowed. As Gretchen exited from the carriage and walked toward him, she trembled with fear. She thought he would be cross at her for not informing him about what she intended to do.
She fell to her knees before him, bowing her head. "I'm sorry, my laird! I did not think tae bother you. Such was why I never mentioned my plans tae ye," Gretchen said, still on her knees, afraid to look at his face.
Callum smiled and lifted her up. A shiver ran down his spine when he touched her hands. He took his time looking at her and observed her green eyes, her radiant skin, and the delicate gown she wore. At that moment, he knew there was a fire for her burning in him. Every word he intended to say to her vanished.
"Thanks tae ye for being watchful of the widows. Ye are so kindly!" he said and walked with her inside the keep. He wanted to say more, but all words had deserted him, and at that moment, he knew she was worth more than a thousand maids. For the umpteenth time, he was glad to have brought her to the keep, but he noticed it wasn’t just the usual gladness. Maybe there was something more, and perhaps he was yet unsure what it was, but whatever good this great gladness would bring, he will gladly embrace it.
Chapter Six
Callum was having a lovely time looking out from his office window. His eyes glanced at the sun, which was glinting softly against the stones. He had had a wonderful day training the warriors with Gregory, and they both had high hopes on their mastery of defense of the keep.
As his thoughts hovered on, his gaze caught Gretchen’s familiar figure puttering gracefully around the keep. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He ran an exploring fingertip over the upper rim of one of his ears. She was remarkably pretty in the sun’s rays, her brown hair shimmering with golden highlights.
“Such a graceful lady,” he whispered, letting a hand linger at his side. How fragile she was, even from afar. Her will was so fierce, yet her temperament was so gentle. So lost in his admiration of her he was, he forgot he had been staring at her for too long. He shook himself out of his daze only after she disappeared around the corner of the building. “The sight was a relief tae the soul and a beauty fer th’ eyes,” he said and settled himself in his seat, flipping through the pages of parchment on his desk.
He took a deep breath, fighting back the emotions aroused in him by merely seeing Fraser’s name on the scroll’s cover. It was a message sent by the MacLaren before the war. It was silly to feel like this. Nothing could bring him back. Nothing could change what had happened. He remembered what it felt like to watch his friend die on the battlefield with blood spluttering out from his mouth and sharp MacLaren steel thrust into his gut, his life’s blood pouring out of his belly.
“This scroll is directed to the Laird of the Clan Glenbogle and the warriors. Laird Fraser…” he read out loud, and his voice quavered on Fraser’s name.
He had thought he was getting over his death already. Perhaps he was getting over the death but seeing things that reminded him of it still brought pain to his heart. For instance, the other day, he had seen Ava watching the maids’ children being cuddled by their fathers after training, and he had felt her sadness as if it had been his own. He knew what she must have been thinking. If only her father were alive, she would not have been silent, gazing sadly at the other children enjoying their fathers’ company. For whatever the case, he would still continue to do his best to protect her and her mama.
Having thought of that, he grabbed another scroll from the shelf and flipped it open.
The Laird of Clan McKenzie sends his felicities to the Laird of Clan Glenbogle. He smiled as he read the greeting out loud.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door, drawing his attention away from his reading.
“My laird, if ye are less busy, I have come to pay a visit” a male voice called out from behind the door.
“Dae come in, Sir Gregory,” Callum said and smiled as he eased himself backward on his leather chair. The door swung open, revealing Gregory’s massive frame. His face was arguably calm and undoubtedly fierce. His left hand clutched at the golden sword resting at his right side. He took a quick bow and came forward before Callum, who still had a faint smile on his face. “Dae have a seat, Sir Gregory. What has brought the most skillful warrior and fighter in the keep tae my office this early hour?” Callum asked, indicating a wooden chair in front of his desk.
“Thank ye, my laird,” Gregory said and took his seat. “The day looks brighter than yesterday, my laird. We had another good training yet again today,” Gregory responded and eased himself backward on the wooden chair.
“Ye have been wonderful in training the youths. I heard the male children from the northern crofts had shown interest in joining the juvenile training, too?”
“Such I heard, too, my laird, I shall ride tae the north at noon tae inquire tae the families,” Gregory said and grinned. Suddenly the grin turned to a slight frown. From the look on his face, one would not argue the fact that he was battling with some serious thoughts.
As he made to speak, Callum’s voice silenced him. “I have a nicely made ale! It was delivered tae the keep just this morning; I shall be happy tae have ye taste from its freshness.”
“Thank ye, my laird, I’d see it a great honor tae share an ale with ye,” Gregory said as he watched Callum spring up from his chair and walk to a shelf filled with various liquors, ranging from scotches, ales, and whiskeys. He pulled out a big bottle containing the ale, picked two golden cups from another shelf, and crossed to his desk again.
He poured for himself full cup of ale, and then poured one for Gregory, too. “A toast tae the wonderful training session today!” Quickly, both men gulped down their brews, and he refilled their cups.
“Aaah! My laird, that was refreshing. I am sae grateful fer the hospitality,” Gregory said, raising his cup and offering and appreciatory toast to his laird.
“Never relent in yer strength and skills. In all honesty, I’m proud tae have ye as my adviser,” Callum replied with a smile.
Gregory, for his part, was battling with thoughts on how to relay the message he had just received some moments ago. He thought about for a moment, shook his head, and then cleared his throat. “My laird, I have a message from my uncle. As you know, he’s a MacKenzie.” He hesitated, then impulsively he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small scroll. “Ye might want tae see this.” He thumbed the scroll open to the part of the letter inked in a red and passed it across the desk. Callum shifted forward to take it from him and then settled back in his chair.
“Sir Gregory, your help is required to deal with this pressing issue. The MacLaren has sent a scroll to attack our clan if we do not surrender to them willingly. As a matter of fact, they have threatened to write to all tribes with our blood as the ink and make captives of our women. We do not have enough resources to face the McLaren now; hence, we strongly ask for help. Our laird does not know I have sent this scroll. He’s too proudful to write to your laird, but I’m mindful of the well-being of our people. Please do treat this as a matter of urgency.
