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My first close look at the castle neither endeared it to me nor stirred any memory. The stone was dark, grey, crumbling in many places, and stacked so high I had to crane my neck to see the top as we rode into its shadow. I’d known I wasn’t to be welcomed by its primary occupant, but I’d hoped to find the castle itself somehow more inviting.
“It’s ugly,” I declared, feeling less than thrilled with the prospect of living there.
Behind me I felt Collin’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “It was designed for safety. It’s done its job well enough through the ages— never conquered that I know of.”
“Until now,” I said, half under my breath. We hoped to conquer, or at least reclaim it for the Campbells... though what they saw in such an ancient edifice was beyond me.
“See the battlements spaced precisely along the top.” Collin inclined his head slightly but did not look up as I had. I supposed he knew the structure well, every nook and cranny perhaps. He’d lived here far longer than me.
“They’ve defended your clan numerous times over the years,” he continued. “It may not look like much now, but with some effort I’ve no doubt the keep could be restored and stand many more centuries.”
“Mmhmm,” I mumbled noncommittally, my mind already racing with the obstacles and dangers to be faced in order to repair the weathered stone, particularly the top tiers.
“It would have pleased your grandfather to see it as it used to be.” Collin’s arm tightened around me, as if in reminder of our purpose here.
“I wonder why he did not attempt the task himself.” My grandfather had passed away a few years earlier, before I could return— before I’d even known of him. Until the last week or so, I’d not recalled anything of my younger years in Scotland.
“Who says he didn’t add fortifications?” Collin hinted in that intriguing way of his. “Maybe he only wished it to look weak, when really...”
“He’d strengthened it other ways?”
“Not it,” Collin said, “but those who would defend the clan. A castle is only as good as the people inside. Right now both appear lacking, but Campbells have a history of strength and resilience. God willing, we’ll help them return to that. We promised your grandfather we would try.”
The towers loomed ominously as Collin and I rode through the gate, flanked by Alistair, Donaid, Ruirdairh, and a half dozen other clansmen I’d just met this morning.
I hadn’t wanted to ride, not while wearing my mother’s gown. The fabric and stitching were delicate now from the years spent aging. As I noted the state of affairs within the keep walls, I realized Collin’s suggestion that we ride had been a good one. Unlike the grassland outside, thick mud made up the ground here, much of it wet and oozing as tradesmen and launderers alike discarded their excess liquid with little thought or care.
We only narrowly avoided getting wet ourselves when a boy, no older than six or seven, flung a bucket of slop across our path, intended for a litter of piglets on the other side.
“Take care,” Collin called. “You’ve almost soiled the lady.”
Instead of offering an apology the child pulled a face at us and ran off.
“Hmm,” Collin said. “Reminds me of a lass I once knew. Must be her relative.”
I thrust my elbow back toward his ribs— not hard but enough that his chuckle turned to an umph.
“Not much has changed,” he grumbled good-naturedly.
I happily accepted his teasing, felt grateful for it, even. It was a welcome, if momentary, respite from the tension building between us since we had entered Campbell lands. I cherished these exchanges that felt almost normal. Seconds in time afforded us to act and speak, to jest, as any married couple might.
“Actually, it was different here when your grandfather was alive.” Collin directed the horse around a pile of manure. “He’d no tolerance for idleness; his keep was a place of order.”
“Be glad you’ve not been here to see all that has befallen this place and people,” Alistair said.
I found the order Collin described difficult to imagine. How could so much have deteriorated into chaos and filth in such a short time? Aside from the castle itself, seemingly on the verge of collapse, tall weeds grew up around it, giving the appearance that it had not been cared for or inhabited for some time.
“Perhaps I should not have signed those papers so quickly this morning. I don’t think I want this place after all.” Nothing about the scene before us bespoke of home— the home I had dreamed of the past weeks, since learning of it.
“Leadership is never about what you want,” Collin said. “And if it turns to that, often the one in charge is no longer fit for leading.”
“Like Brann,” I mused.
“Aye,” Collin said solemnly.
As we drew closer, people stopped their work to stare. One woman gasped and brought a hand to her mouth. Another fell to her knees as we passed. One very old man doffed his hat. Children scampered off, rushing around carts and dodging barrels as they hurried, I supposed, to tell others who had not seen us. Apparently a man and woman, freshly bathed, dressed in clean clothes, and riding a horse was a rare sight.
If nothing else, it smelled as if we were a rarity.
I sat sidesaddle in front of Collin, feeling much like the prodigal who had returned home, though I’d done no wrong. The one left behind was the one who had wronged these people. The evidence was everywhere. We’d heard the tales from Liusaidh and Alistair and had seen it yesterday and again this morning.
Many of the homes Collin remembered from my grandfather’s time were gone now, reduced to piles of ash, covered over with grass and the tracks of the sheep Brann had purchased to graze on land previously farmed by tenants.
“Where have all the families gone?” I’d asked on our way here this morning. “Have they new homes built elsewhere? Were they taken in to live at the keep?”
“Nay, lass.” Alistair had scrubbed a hand over his face as his mouth turned down. “Burned out, many of them. Often while they slept in their beds. Others managed to gather a few of their belongings and leave. Where they’ve gone I cannot say.”
Liusaidh, too, had shared tales of sorrow last night. “When Brann told the widow Ravigill that she must leave, she tried to pull down her house, so she might have something to rebuild with. Her husband died at the mill six months past, and other than her ten-year-old son, she hadn’t a man to help her. While trying to salvage the roof, she fell and lost the babe she carried, then died herself shortly after.”
“What of her son?” I’d asked, dismayed for the boy who’d lost both parents.
“Children,” Liusaidh corrected. “Four— little more’n bairns, two of them. Taken in by her sister, until she was forced from the land as well. I’ve no idea where they are now. No one does.”
“Whole families just disappear.” Her expression had been grim.
The expressions of the people watching us ride up to the castle were grim as well. Hopelessness seemed prevalent, the mood of the people as dreary as the fortress I had inherited.
Collin guided us to the stable. He helped me down, his hands lingering a moment at my waist. “Courage,” he whispered before stepping back and handing Ian’s horse off to a man he seemed to know.
“Can you stable him for me, Willie?”
”Aye.” Willie nodded at Collin, though I noted his eyes kept straying to me. “Good to see you again, MacDonald. You as well, mistress. You’ve the look of your mother and grandfather both.”
“Thank you.” His welcome seemed genuine, and I offered him a smile as I curtsied, my hands lifting the hem of my mother’s gown to keep it from the mud at our feet. In spite of the disheartening sights, it seemed I could almost feel my mother’s presence and my grandfather’s too, leading and guiding me to do things I couldn’t have done on my own.
Help me. I was starting to understand what Collin had meant about heavenly assistance— from both God and those who had gone before us. I certainly needed it today.
Willie led Ian’s horse away. Donaid and Ruaridh collected the other horses and followed.
“Here we go.” Alistair pressed his lips together, gave a quick glance to our fellow clansmen, and started forward.
Collin reached for my hand, squeezing my fingers reassuringly. He started to take a step, but I held him back. “Wait.”
He did not ask why, but his free hand slid to the pistol at his waist, hidden poorly beneath the loose folds of his shirt. He’d insisted upon keeping it with him, though in truth I think it brought little comfort to either of us. Home or not, we were in enemy territory. Declaring ourselves and our intention so openly, while perhaps the only possible way to avoid bloodshed, also seemed it might be the exact way to invite it. We were—
Outnumbered. I turned around, staring at the ivy growing along the corner of the stone, seeing clearly who was on the other side, as if the stone was not there at all. Brann appeared a few seconds later, flanked by four other men. Collin and Alistair had followed my lead, and we stood our ground, facing Brann as he approached.
He was exactly as I remembered, though taller and broader now. Sandy hair hung shaggily over his ears, not quite long but neither short, and his face looked as if he’d attempted a beard unsuccessfully, with odd patches of hair growing at different lengths along his jawline. His shirt was filthy, and his smile revealed a set of teeth that looked as if they belonged to a much older man. I suppressed a shudder.
“Dear Katherine.” He held his arms out as if to greet me with a hug. I made no move toward him.
An awkward few seconds passed before he lowered his arms and turned his attention to Collin and his pistol— in his hand, I was alarmed to see.
“MacDonald, is that any way to greet the laird of the land you’re trespassing on? Hostility is apt to get you into trouble.”
“Not hostility,” Collin said. “Precaution. And trespassing seems a strange choice of words, given what you’ve unlawfully claimed.”
Brann’s smile stiffened. “I’ve done nothing but comply with every requirement of English law. Unlike yourself.” His gaze slid to Collin’s pistol once more. “You would do well to be careful who sees your weapon and whom you point it at.”
“There aren’t many I’ll feel the need to,” Collin said. “I know my friends here.”
“You might have at one time,” Brann returned. “But the old man is gone. Things are different. You’ve been gone a long time.”
“Your services as laird are no longer needed.” I’d remained silent long enough, and their circular conversation could only lead one direction that I could see.
“How so?” Brann asked. His eyes were a brilliant blue and might have been pretty had they a particle of kindness in them.
“I’ve signed the document accepting ownership of this castle, deeded to me by my grandfather, and it is, at this moment, being registered in Edinburg.” It was, in fact, only just on its way to the clerk, Finlay and Edan having left no more than a few hours earlier. “I appreciate you filling in during my absence,” I continued in an even tone.
A flicker of surprise registered in Brann’s eyes but was quickly gone. “I’ve seen no such deed.”
“Perhaps not, but it exists. I’ve no doubt my grandfather made you well aware of his wishes.” Alistair and the others had been wise, hiding Edan and his records the past years. No doubt Brann would have destroyed both at his first opportunity.
“You’ll understand that I’ll be staying until I see proof of such legalities.” He cocked his head to the side slightly, and two of the men with him stepped backward and moved swiftly away, no doubt to stop the transfer of the estate before it happened.
I swallowed my concern and attempted a look of calm acceptance. “Of course. But you understand that we will also be staying here. You are welcome to remain as well— for now.” He wasn’t really, but there was only so much I could do with just my word— and Collin and a handful of clansmen— to back me.
Brann nodded, a false smile upon his face. “My home is yours.” He stepped aside and swept his hand out, indicating that we were to precede him inside. I started to take a step, but this time it was Collin who held me back.
“After you, Laird.” His tone was needlessly mocking, causing me no little alarm. We didn’t need a fight right off. Or at all, if it could be helped.
“As soon as you put your pistol away,” Brann said, looking pointedly at Collin’s hand.
“I prefer to keep it where it is,” Collin said.
Brann scoffed. “There’s no love between us, MacDonald, but do you really think I’d murder you in the middle of the day, in front of your wife?”
“Probably not,” Collin said. “Seeing as you’re more the type to set fire to people in the dark of night.” He tucked the gun away. “Still, I’ll be keeping this ready.”
“Have it your way,” Brann said, turning from us. “For now.”
I heard his muttered words, certain he’d intended just that.
We followed him to the main entrance and up wide steps to the great hall. I felt a vague stir of familiarity, either from my dream or recently recalled memory.
“Best watch yourself,” an old man warned as we walked past. From his tone I couldn’t tell if he was friendly or not. And therein lay the problem.
If it was just Brann who was our enemy, it would be possible to be rid of him. But we’d no idea how many of the Campbells were on his side, or how many might be on ours.