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IN THE DAVIDSON COURTYARD, Bearcha noticed when Dena smiled at Neasan. He also noticed Neasan leaving to follow her and he feared the worst. Yet Neasan was laird and could do whatever he wanted. On the other hand, what kind of man would let another attack a woman? Causally, he glanced around to see if any of the other men noticed and was certain they had. Yet none of them was willing to do anything about it. Dena could not know what she was doing, could she? Bearcha had never paid enough attention to Dena to know.
He was still mentally debating when Neasan came back. His cloths were dry, but his hair was clearly wet and again people noticed. Bearcha thought he should go see about Dena, but decided to wait a little longer. It would not do for him to see her before she was fully dressed.
He waited and waited and waited. Dena did not come back and Neasan began to drink more heavily than before. He had an odd look on his face and Bearcha could not quite make out what it meant.
It was almost completely dark and he was about to walk that way when Bearcha noticed Dena’s father and brother head down the path. That was best, Bearcha thought. Let them discover what had happened.
A few moments later, he heard Dena’s father call for her. It was clear she was not still at the lake and Bearcha joined several other men who headed that way. Dena’s father was beside himself with worry. Her clean clothing were still on the rock, the ones she took off lay where she left them on the shore and Dena was nowhere to be found.
*
NEASAN DIDN’T CARE what happened to Dena. What he cared about was her attempt to trick him and how easily she managed it. The truth be told, he hoped she drowned. Just now, all he wanted was a good night’s sleep. Neasan dumped his wine on the ground, tossed his goblet away, and walked inside the empty great hall. It was obvious no one had come to clean up and he made a mental note to see about that tomorrow before the rotting food on the table began to smell.
He was halfway up the second flight of stairs when he remembered he’d destroyed the mattress in the top bedchamber. He stopped, turned around, and went back to the second floor landing. Dragging another mattress up would not be too difficult, he thought, but when he opened the door to Sawney and Hew’s old bedchamber, he decided just to sleep in there instead. He vaguely heard men still calling that despicable Dena’s name.
*
ON THE FOURTH DAY WITH the sun shining bright and with no sign that they were being followed, the MacGreagors happened upon a stretch of beautiful grasslands between two hills complete with a nearby stream. It was a good time to do it and Sawney decided they would stay and rest for a while. They bathed and washed their clothing, let the children play and let the horses graze. Moreover, they had time to cook, take naps and discuss what to do next.
Sawney bent down, grabbed a handful of dirt, and let it slip through his fingers. “Aye, we could stay and build our home here, but is it far enough away? Neasan’s lads could easily find us in two days’ time.”
“If they know which way to go,” Daniel reminded him.
Keter sat on the ground, stuffing Dolina’s green clothing in her sack. She now wore the yellow plaid of the Macfarlane just as her sister did. “I have been thinking about that. They are sure to think we did not go north as Bearcha reported, and the MacDuff have never known a secret they did not tell. Therefore, we did not go south either,” said Keter.
“If they ask the Macfarlane, they are sure to know which way we went,” Daniel pointed out.
Sawney pulled a long blade of grass out of the ground and examined it. The horses were happily grazing, the little children were napping, and the women were content to brush each other’s hair with the wood-handled bush Carley sent with them. “They might think we went north. Grandmother Glenna was from the far north and they might think we seek sanctuary in her clan.”
“I’ve a better idea,” said Diocail. “The next time we see lads on the path, two of us will say we saw an odd clan turn south somewhere between here and the MacFarlane.”
Sawney reached over and playfully slapped Diocail on the back, “How have you come to have your wits about you?”
“He is right,” said Blare. “To the next, we might say the clan argued among themselves and parted ways, some going south and some heading back the way they came. That should confound the Davidsons, they’ll not know which way to look.”
Keter seemed exceptionally pleased, “Aye, and we can say we are from a different clan each time.”
“It is settled then,” Sawney agreed. “We will keep going.”
*
IT WAS QUIET WHEN NEASAN woke up, climbed out of Hew’s bed and stretched. Unaware he’d slept half the day away again, he went to the window that faced the river behind the village, and decided a little fishing would do him good while he waited for William and his men to bring Paisley back. He saw none of the people, but perhaps they were still sleeping. Curls of smoke rose from hearths in the cottages just as they always did, dogs slept along the paths and a cow had somehow managed to wander from the pasture to the river.
Again, he found no morning meal waiting for him downstairs and he let out a frustrated huff. However, this time Bearcha was seated at the table waiting for him instead of leaning against the wall outside like he normally was.
“There is no lass serving me again this day?”
“They fear you now, so you’ll not likely get any of them to enter without a lad to protect them.”
The volume of Neasan’s voice started to rise a little. “Why, what has changed? They did not fear serving me yesterday.”
“They have seen Dena’s face?”
Neasan walked to the table, grabbed an overturned goblet, and started to pour himself some wine, only to find the pitcher empty. Furious, he threw the clay pitcher against the wall and watched it shatter into a thousand pieces. Rotting food was beginning to smell, the colorful pillows along the walls were stained and there were three deep cuts in the long table Neasan often coveted before he became laird.
“‘Twas your last pitcher,” Bearcha muttered.
Neasan took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “What has happened to Dena’s face?”
“She claims you struck her.”
“Would that I had. She tempted me to go with her, swam away and was gone before I could catch up.”
“That is not how she tells it.”
Neasan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He tried to run both hands through his tangled hair, gave up halfway through, and slowly sat down at the head of the table. “Does she say I forced her?”
“Aye.” Bearcha slowly stood up and moved the chair away. He had seen Neasan’s rage often enough to stay out of reach. “The people await you in the courtyard.”
“Tell them to go home.”
Bearcha took several steps toward the door before he stopped and turned around. “Only their laird can make them go.”
Neasan needed time to think and watched Bearcha walk out the door without saying another word. If the clan believed Dena, they would demand he marry her and that was the last thing he intended to do. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the table. What could he do? He needed her family to become laird, but now those same men would turn against him if he did not marry her.
Again, he rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes. Then it occurred to him he might manage to find a way out of it after all.
*
THE GRASSLANDS OFFERED soft beds on the ground and a place to fill their flasks with fresh water. Yet it gave the MacGreagors no place to hide. Just as they were about to mount their horses and continue their journey, they noticed two horsemen riding down the side of a hill toward them.
The MacGreagor warriors immediately prepared themselves to defend the women and children, but these strangers were not looking for someone to fight. They were curious and once they halted their horses, glanced over all the people, and noticed their different color attire, they had plenty of questions to ask.
Sawney said they were Forbes and they were sent to find new land worthy of growing hemp. The strangers seemed to accept that since everyone used hemp to make a variety of goods including rope. About the different colors, Sawney laughed and said their weavers were simply not the best. That too the strangers easily accepted and one even showed the odd threads in his own kilt.
“Where might we find good land?” Keter asked. Just as he hoped, one of the strangers pointed south. Keter nodded, and began to help the women and children mount. “South it is then.”
Satisfied, the strangers rode away and did not look back.
“Brother,” Paisley said when Sawney lifted her up on her horse, “Why do you think the black horse stays with us?”
Sawney handed little Flora to her and waited for Paisley to get a firm hold on the reins and the child. “I believe he has fallen madly in love with my mare.”
Paisley giggled. “Horses do not fall in love.”
“You cannot know that. Perhaps they are the same as people.”
Paisley smiled. “Or perhaps you have lost your wits.” A sharp pain in her side made her wince. “Sawney?”
“What?”
She hated bothering him especially since they were all suffering, but she had to before her injury got worse. She held tight to Flora and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “The sword it too heavy. The strings are cutting me when we ride.”
He looked shocked. “Hew, come.” He pulled Flora back out of her arms and handed her to his brother. “Forgive me for not realizing. Of course it is too heavy.” He lifted Paisley down, quickly untied the leather strings, and noticed blood on her side just above her belt. “You tie it too high, sister.”
“I tie it around my belt, but the weight pulls that side down and the strings ride up.”
A wound that would not heal could cause death and it was something they all feared. Sawney handed the golden sword to Hew and while Paisley held her shirt closed in the front, Sawney lifted it enough at the waist to see her injury. It was not cut too badly, but enough to cause him concern and to cause Paisley a great deal of discomfort.
Sawney took Flora out of Hew’s arms. “Stow your sword on one of the pack horse and wear hers. While Hew did as he said, Sawney handed Flora to Senga. Paisley is hurt. At fifteen, Senga was happy to help. She loved children and hoped to have one of her own someday.
“I will stay back to protect her,” said Hew when he returned.
Sawney smiled, “You are a good brother.” He waited for Paisley to get her shirt on properly, then lifted her up again, careful not to touch her cut. “We cannot lose you.”
His love for her was endearing and made her smile. “I’ll not die; you need me to keep you from marrying a lass who is too willing.”
The last to mount his horse, Sawney raised his hand, motioned them forward and they too left the pleasant valley.
*
NEASAN FINALLY OPENED the door of the Keep and walked out. Just as he expected, the entire clan was there waiting for him, including Carley. What he didn’t expect to see was the Priest. Dena stood by her father with her eyes held down and true enough, she had a horrible bruise around her eye and a cut on her cheekbone. Briefly, he wondered how hard she had to hit herself to accomplish that. In a way, he admired her trickery, except she was playing it on him.
Dena’s father shoved her behind him and turned to face Neasan. “You have shamed my daughter and you will marry her this day.”
“She lies.”
“She does not lie.”
Neasan gritted his teeth. “Tell him, Dena. Tell him I did not put a hand on you.”
Dena was careful to stay hidden behind her father’s back. “You did, do not deny it.”
“No man shames my daughter and then does not marry her. If you refuse to do right, I will call you out, and if I do not kill you, her brothers will.”
Neasan was caught and it was not wholly unexpected. “Very well then, I will marry her.” He paused just long enough to let the crowd start to murmur. “However,” said he loud enough for all to hear, “You will not call Dena mistress. She will not live under my roof, nor come to me with any request. Heretofore, she will not so much as speak to me.”
Neasan paused again just to let his words sink in. “She is not to attend a feast, not to walk in the glen when I am there and no lad shall speak her name to me.” He gritted his teeth again and glared at Dena’s father. “She will be guarded at all times to prevent any lad from bedding her.” He turned to look at one of the men, who quickly nodded.
Neasan continued, “When it is certain she is not with child, I shall set her aside for her trickery. Then, I will send her away—never to return.”
Not be mistress? Dena was horrified and tried to think of a way out of her quandary. Before she had a chance, her father pulled her out from behind him and stood her in front of the priest. Neasan came to stand beside her and the entire time the priest conducted the ceremony, she never heard a word. How could she have made such a mess of things? More importantly, how was she to keep the clan, and especially her father, from knowing she lied? Then it occurred to her she might entice the man sent to guard her, and if not, she could plead her case to the priest. After all, not all women conceived on their wedding night.
Her father wasn’t listening either. He dared not think what would happen to Dena out in the world alone if Neasan sent her away. Clearly, he would have to take his family and go with her, but he was an elder, this was the only home he had ever known and he knew the world beyond the glen could be harsh and cruel.
Nor was Neasan paying attention. His mind was on Paisley and how she might feel about what he was doing. Marrying Dena, if he were guilty, would be the honorable thing to do. Being forced into a marriage would not bode well with the daughter of the former Laird, a laird who would never let himself get caught in such a trap.
No indeed, Justin was saintly, never said a harsh word to a woman and remained faithful to that skinny, English wife of his. Justin was not even human, as far as Neasan was concerned, and living such a virtuous life ruined it for every other man. There were always women who were willing and Neasan knew exactly who they were, but he doubted Justin did. This was all Justin’s fault. A woman’s word should never be believed above that of a man.
Paisley was probably just like him—just as proud, arrogant and stubborn. As soon as William brought Paisley back, he would make her live in the Keep. Let the people think what they want and soon they will think her as common and as wanton as Dena. It would serve Paisley right!
At last, Dena and Neasan said their “I do’s” and went their separate ways, him into the Keep and her back to the cottage she shared with her parents and her siblings. Only this time, there was a guard posted outside her door.
*
IT WAS TWO LONG DAYS before the news they had been waiting for came and Grant was careful to take aunt Carley for a walk in the glen where no one could hear. “They are safe. Bryce made it to the Kennedys and they have gone to find Sawney.”
Carley took the arm he offered for her to hang on to and heaved a sigh of relief. “I am happy to hear it and I am certain their wives are the same. Once they find...”
“We do not know if they can find Sawney. The Kennedy’s traded kilts with them and who knows what colors they are wearing now. ‘Twill be hard to know which way they went.”
“Is there no gossip of a small clan on the move?”
“Aye, three clans have been seen. Scots move from place to place more often than we knew.”
“None are Sawney? How can you be certain?”
“Our lads are very large and we would hear if...”
Carley smiled. “I had not thought of that.”
They strolled across the glen until they neared the graveyard. It was the first time she had seen the stone placed at the head of Justin’s grave and she approved.
“‘Tis very fine work,” said Grant.
“Indeed it is,” Carley agreed. “I wonder that William and the lads have not come back.”
“I wonder too, but I have heard nothing of them, no one seems to know where they went. It is uncommon not to hear.”
Carley smiled. “Now that Neasan is married, perhaps he is not so eager to have Paisley back.”
“Never have I seen such a wedding and true to his word, Neasan has not sought Dena out. It is unnatural for a lad to have a wife and not take her to him.”
“In this case, Neasan may well be right. Dena deceived us all and God be with her if she is not with child.”
“I had not thought Dena that shrewd.”
“She had her eyes on Sawney first and made it known last year. Then she easily took to Neasan. Aye, she is shrewd enough to trick Neasan into marriage.” Carley let him turn them away from the graveyard and walk toward the corral. “What of the Haldane?” she asked after a time.
“The Swintons have them.”
“The Swintons? They are not the best of friends with the Haldane, not since a Haldane accused a Swinton of stealing his horse.”
Grant smiled. “True, and they have yet to find that horse, but this is a different matter. When there is danger, the clans put aside their differences and stand together.”
Carley leaned down, picked a flower and smelled its fragrance. “I have heard their muttering. Neasan thinks to attack another clan soon. Do you know which one?”
“Nay, he has not yet decided.”
“We must do something.”
“Such as?”
Carley thought about it for a moment. “I do not know...distract Neasan somehow. Perhaps if he has more to worry about in the glen, he might not be so happy to lead another attack.”
*
THE MACGREAGORS ENCOUNTERED men heading their same direction too, although at a much faster pace. As they agreed, all hid except two or three MacGreagors, which allowed them to spread the rumors they planned. Conversely, the men they met had plenty to say about a banished clan and recounted all the same gossip Carley heard. Several different rumors about their banishment appeared to be spreading across Scotland, and the MacGreagors were fascinated to learn how easily the truth got confused.
Then came the worst possible news. A very small clan had been completely wiped out by men of great strength. Who else could do such a thing but Neasan, and the clan that was no more, had to be the Haldane.
The MacGreagors continued their journey trying to hide their sorrow from one another. The Haldane had always been small with few of their own warriors to protect them. At last count, they numbered only twenty-seven adults and they were good neighbors to the MacGreagors. The two clans occasionally intermarried which meant some were related.
The names and faces of the Haldane were on every mind and when Jennet burst into tears Sawney stopped the horses. Blare was quick to dismount and take his wife in his arms to comfort her. Soon, all the women were crying and all the men felt just as bad.
It was time for their noon meal anyway and Keter suggested the elder children carve a mark into a soft stone for each of the Haldane. It seemed to make them all feel just a bit better and they watched as the two eldest boys stood the stone upright along the path.
Paisley’s side was hurting and it was Lenox who noticed it the most. Now that little Flora rode with one of the other women, he often saw Paisley hold her side. After the stone was carved and placed near the path, Lenox took Sawney aside and told him.
Paisley didn’t want them to bother, but her brothers insisted, so the women held a plaid up in front of her. Sawney made Paisley undo her belt and with only her long shirt on, he carefully parted it, poured wine on his cloth, and held it against her wound. It was the only medicine they had and he knew it hurt, so when he thought he had held it there long enough, he gathered her in his arms and let her cry.
When they mounted their horses this time, it was Lenox who helped Paisley up, and instead of holding onto her waist, he put an arm under her legs and lifted all of her up. Lenox grew up with her and they had always been friends, save for the times she threatened to kill him. Pleasing her was occasionally difficult when they were young, but he didn’t mind. She was fun to be with and interesting to talk to. Perhaps he cared for her a little more than the other men because of it and now he meant to see to her care.
Paisley was happy for his attention, although she saw nothing more in it than an old friendship. She was also happy Lenox was taking a burden off Sawney, who always seemed to be fussing over her. She did not deny her pain, but there was nothing anyone could do to relieve it, so she carried on as though nothing was wrong. All of them had aches and pains they were not complaining about and she did not want to be the fainthearted one among such strong people.
*
IF ANYTHING COULD DISTRACT Neasan from planning a new attack, it was the fact that William and the men had not come back, with or without Paisley. The more he thought about it, the more he paced and loudly yelled his complains about the multitude of things that irritated him. His bellowed list of threats was long and growing longer.
More and more, the Davidson’s were getting tired of his ranting and more than once rolled their eyes over his latest outburst. It seemed nothing could please him, even his meals, which he continued to wolf down as though someone was set to take it away before he could finish.
It appeared to be the perfect time to act, so Carley boldly walked to the Keep, opened the door, and went in. Neasan was the only one in the great hall and she was not surprised. The Keep, her brother’s home and her father’s before him, was filled with the foul remainders of drunkenness from the previous nights.
She had lived through it all, buried them all one by one, and was thankful she was the only family member left to see their pleasant world crumbling.
As the old people often do, Carley remembered far too much of her youth and how her innocence was shattered when she married the wrong man—a man who was not buried in the graveyard with the family members. Instead, he was put in the ground next to other nefarious members so his soul would not taint those of the beloved. It was there she hoped to see Neasan put someday. For now, however, there was something she could do to help secure the return of the clan to the MacGreagors, and she was willing to risk her life to do it.
Carley smiled, sat down next to Neasan at the table, and tried to ignore the filth around her. “You need a wife.”
Seated at the head of the table where Justin and his father before him always sat, Neasan eyed her suspiciously, “I have a wife.”
She did not take her eyes from his. “Have you gone daft?”
At that, Neasan smiled. “Not completely. If you speak of Dena, I do not need her. I have all the pleasure a lad could want.”
“Pleasure is a good thing, but what will you have to impress other lairds when they come to pay tribute? Surely they will, once you become a great conqueror.” She took a moment to slowly look around. The large, colorful pillows her mother kept along the walls were cut open with the stuffed feathers hanging out. Coals in the hearth were shoved aside to make room for new wood and left where they lay. Rotting food remained on the table and the floor was littered with dropped goblets and stains from spilled drinks. When she looked back, Neasan was looking around too. “What will they think of you?”
Again, Neasan eyed her suspiciously. “You wish me well, do you? Am I to believe that?”
“Believe what you will, I care not what you do. ‘Tis only something to talk about.”
“Something to talk about?” He got up, walked to a table, grabbed a flask of wine, and returned to fill his goblet. “What are you up to, Carley? Why have you come to see me?”
She waited for him to sit back down. “When you were but ten, you killed a red fox and found pleasure in it. I guessed you to become a great hunter, but you desired more. When you hurt a woman without kind regard, I talked Justin into sparing you because you were too young. I confess it was not hard to do, Justin did not wish you to be his first execution. Now you are free to hurt, force and even kill every lass in the clan if you so desire. Therefore, I have come to ask you to spare me.”
Both his eyebrows shot up. “Spare you? I wish you no harm, Carley. How have you come to think that?”
Carley started to get up. “‘Tis but gossip then. I feared being slain in my bed and now I will sleep more peacefully.”
He quickly grabbed hold of her arm. “What gossip? What do they say of me?”
She looked down at the hold he had on her arm and did not speak until he let go. “I am old and I do not recall who said it, but then I am usually the last to hear.”
“Hear what?”
“That you intend to do away with all the elders.”
Neasan tried to remember if he actually said that. He must have, but as hard as he tried, he did not remember even thinking it. Worse, he had no idea whom he might have said it in front of. “But not you, Carley, I would never hurt you.”
“There be but a few elders left. How do we plague you?”
Still flustered, he tried to think why he might have said it so he could explain. “Perhaps because the people listen to the elders.”
“You fear the people will rebel? Then I will tell the elders not to recommend it. They will listen to me.” Carley walked toward the door, stopped, and did not bother looking back. “You’ve a traitor in your midst who warned us, as well as the Haldane. Perhaps you should forget the elders in favor of seeking him out.” With that, she walked out the door.
In a courtyard that was once filled with happy people, few were there standing amid still more clutter on the ground. Yet those that were there seemed happy to see her and when she smiled, they returned with smiles of their own. Carley hoped to discover which were still true MacGreagors by their smiles, but Neasan’s men also smiled. At least there was some measure of respect left for the elders even on Neasan’s side.
As soon as she left the courtyard and turned down the path, Carley nodded to Grant so he would know the deed was done. She had not yet managed to get to her cottage before Neasan started yelling.
The day before and behind Neasan’s back, Grant and Bearcha formed an alliance, and it was Grant who then nodded to Bearcha. If Neasan decided who his traitor was, the two of them were set to help the man hide. It was Bearcha who guessed that Neasan, when he was sober, would believe Carley and he was right. Now all they could do was wait to see what happened.
*
A TRAITOR WAS JUST one of Neasan’s problems. His warriors always seemed to be losing things. One lost a pair of shoes when he went to the loch to bathe and had to come back up the path barefoot to plead for a new pair. The items lost ranged from belts, weapons, spoons, bowls, baskets of washing the moment a women turned her back, and even some of the tools could not be accounted for.
On the morning of Neasan’s eighth day of rule, he went to the window of his third-story bedchamber, looked out, and discovered his beloved whalebone was missing from the glen, cart and all.
It was as though he had run completely out of rage and instead, he calmly sat on the bed he carried up himself from a downstairs bedchamber. Neasan tried to think where he had gone wrong. Being laird should not be this difficult. He should have killed someone that first day, but whom, Sawney?
That was it, as long as Sawney still lived, the clan thought they had another choice. They did not fear Neasan as they should, and therefore his commands were not obeyed without question.
Where was William?
This constant disobedience, the infernal questions and the odd happenings were all carefully designed to make him go daft. Neasan could see that now. He too had expected half the clan to go with Sawney, and when they didn’t, he assumed they were truly on his side. Apparently, he assumed wrong and for all he knew, Sawney was lurking just out of sight, waiting to find him alone.
There had to be a way to get control of the people. How had Justin done it? Love was not Neasan’s favorite word. In fact, he was never quite certain what that was, but everyone loved Justin. Therefore, love had to be the answer, but how on earth do you make people love you?
A moment later, Neasan thought he had the answer—but first, he needed to bathe, trim his beard, and make himself presentable.
*
MACKINZIE CAMPBELL missed the horse more today than most days, but once again, it did not come back. Certain Laird Campbell was looking for her after she exchanged harsh words with one of the other women, she hurried out of the village and came to her peaceful, uncomplicated sanctuary at the top of the hill.
It was not as though she tore the plaid on purpose, Mackinzie was simply washing it when it caught on a rock in the riverbed. Such things were not her fault and it was not as though another plaid could not be easily had, for the weavers always had extras on hand.
Mackinzie supposed she should not have called the woman a ‘scunner.’ It was the worst name one person could call another, but the word just shot out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. Nor did she apologize. She saw no reason to apologize for telling the truth, the woman was a scunner. She supposed she should try to control her temper better, but whatever for. They didn’t like her anyway and Laird Campbell never punished her harshly.
She did wonder what he had in mind for her this time, but his drinking habits were such, that if she stayed away long enough he would forget her altogether.
It was then she heard voices in the woods behind her, ran down the side of the hill, crossed the path, and hid in the trees.
