Beloved Lies, Book 2 Page 15

  On the steps to the castle, Donnan and Cullen stood watching the preparations, both wearing their kilts, and both with their arms crossed. Some of the men were already bringing tables out of their cottages and placing them in a semicircle in the courtyard while inside, wives kneaded extra bread dough soon to be baked when the ovens got hot enough.

  “Kennedy is a proud lad. How do you mean to help without offendin’ him?” Cullen asked.

  “Laird Kennedy supposes they have enough, but I dinna believe him. First, I mean to show him the abundance we have in the cellars, and then I mean to ask how many lads he can spare this winter to build new cellars.”

  “We dinna need new cellars.”

  “Aye, but we do. We need them in town. Last year, the clans had to haul that which they cannae sell home only to bring it back another day. I think to offer them storage in the village.”

  “And let the Kennedys pay for food by buildin’ cellars?”

  “If ‘tis not charity, there be no pride to swallow.”

  “You forget, they need their lads to rebuild cottages.”

  Donnan watched as Niall shoved Taog, and Taog pushed back. At ages thirteen and fourteen, Niall and Taog were friendly on most occasions, but of all the boys in the clan, they more easily went to blows over that which was completely unimportant.

  “Since they dinna care to practice, perhaps our lads could help the Kennedys build instead of playin’ futeball.” Donnan decided he better go settle the argument between the boys, and he knew just how to do it – give them work to do.

  Cullen rolled his eyes and watched his brother walk away. “Tell them they cannae play futeball? You are a braver lad than I, Laird MacGreagor.”

  THE SUN WAS HIGH IN the sky when Laird Kennedy and several of his followers entered the glen. There were not as many as the MacGreagors expected, but enough to make it a fun day. For years the Kennedys and the MacGreagors had been friends and most knew each other, especially those who sold in the market each day so Tavis was well received, even by Cullen.

  Kennedy’s wife and daughters wore colorful frocks and Isabell took the women into the castle sitting room where it was more comfortable. The men wore traditional Kennedy kilts and after the women went inside, Donnan invited Laird Kennedy and his son to join him, Cullen and Berry in the Great Hall. As punishment, the two youths, Niall and Taog, were to act as servers, keeping the men suppled with drink. When not needed, they were merely to stand by the door.

  “Your wife looks well,” Donnan said to Laird Kennedy’s son as he motioned for everyone to sit.

  Fergus Kennedy grinned with pride. “Aye, she is much improved these days. I nearly lost her in the fire, but then you know about that.”

  “I thought she and your mother quick witted, havin’ taken the other lasses and the children into the water when the fire grew too close.”

  “The smoke gave them, and I add me, a terrible cough for a time,” Laird Kennedy put in, “but that too is passin’.” He made himself comfortable in the chair next to Donnan and appeared to truly relax for the first time in days.

  “How goes the buildin’?” Cullen asked. This time, he forwent his usual seat and sat closer to the other men at the head of the table. “I cannae think how hard it must be to start over.”

  “We are grateful the south cottages dinna burn, but ‘tis a challenge,” Laird Kennedy answered. “We have families two and three in a cottage and I need not tell you, they dinna always get along.”

  Donnan raised an eyebrow. “I suspect not. I have that same problem even without them livin’ together.”

  Laird Kennedy chuckled. “If ever you long to hear a complaint or two, you are welcome at my door.”

  Donnan added his chuckle. “With winter comin’, ‘tis only right that we help with the buildin’.”

  “Aye, but we cannae pay and never have we not paid for the help we need.”

  “I was thinkin’ more of a fair barter.”

  “How so?” Kennedy asked.

  “I think to build storage in town so the clans need not haul their goods back and forth. We shall need one cellar, at least, and possibly two. Our lads can help you with cottages and come winter, your lads can help build our cellars.”

  Laird Kennedy looked at his son’s pleading nod. “‘Tis not a fair enough trade. We need at least ten new cottages.”

  “Aye, but Father...” Fergus tried.

  Kennedy bowed his head. “Very well. Your lads shall help us build cottages, my lads shall help you build cellars, and we shall give over two of our best colts come spring.”

  “Done.” Donnan exchanged a look with his brother. He meant to trade building for food, and now food was out of the equation. “We expected more of your clan to come.”

  Kennedy nodded. “We have injuries that must be tended, and those who lost family dinna long for a celebration just yet.”

  “I understand. Did you not bring your best archers though?” We mean to challenge them.”

  Kennedy nodded. “I am lookin’ forward to it.”

  “I fear our lads are not well practiced,” Donnan admitted.

  “But they must be, for the sake of the kingdom,” an alarmed Laird Kennedy said. “The English are very well practiced and a lad cannae survive if he...” Kennedy paused to cough

  “He is right,” said Fergus. I thought myself good enough, but I was not.”

  Laird Kennedy took a deep breath. “Fergus, tell them about the battle for Treun Castle.”

  “Treun Castle? I have not heard of that battle,” said Donnan.

  Fergus answered, “You have not, for it never was.” Both he and Laird Kennedy enjoyed the perplexed look on the faces of the MacGreagors.

  “I was much younger at the time. As a friend and I were ridin’ past,” Fergus began, “the king’s men stopped to enquire as to our archery skills, and I was stupid enough to boast. ‘Twas before Lesley and I married, but not before I had chosen her. Unfortunately, I had not yet made her my wife.”

  Fergus paused to collect his thoughts. “Marsaili, that be my friend, and I thought ourselves unbeatable. The king’s men took us to a wide glen not far from the castle in Edinburgh, where fewer than three hundred warriors were practicin’. It was then I lost all notion of being a great warrior.”

  The king goes to battle with so few? Marsaili whispered to me. I dinna believe it either. Archers with longbows were shootin’ at targets and doin’ it exceedingly well, while other men jousted with swords, and still others practice the skill of throwin’ a man to the ground and cuttin’ his throat. They were far better at each than I thought myself to be. Along the far side of the glen, elders, women and children had gathered to watch. Even so, ‘twas not the men or the onlookers we stared at. Nor was it the row of six bombards, but afore us was the largest cannon I ever did see.”

  “The Mons Meg? I have yet to see it. Do you suppose ‘tis still in Edinburgh?” Donnan asked.

  “Laird MacGreagor, ‘twould take many an oxen to pull it anywhere else. ‘Tis easily three times the length of your bombard.” Fergus held out his left arm. “The mouth be as wide as from the tips of my fingers to my elbow.” He left his arm out long enough for them to envision it, and then put it down. “Beside it were three carts, each only able to hold one cannonball. We had not yet got a good look at it when the captain got off his horse and sent the rest of his men away. He motioned for us to dismount, and then gathered us round.”

  Mesmerized, Niall and Taog stood near the door and listened to every word.

  “My attention held fast to the cannon,” Fergus went on. “Does it fire? I asked. Aye, said the Captain, and you best not be standin’ too close when it does. I believed him. The captain then said he would see our skill with the longbow and pointed at a tree. See that your arrow strikes the red mark, said he. Pretendin’ to be too blind to fight, I asked, what tree? The captain grinned. In battle, he said, lads what cannae see the tree find themselves in the front line.”

  Fergus paused and w
aited until the others stopped laughing. “I rubbed both my eyes, opened them wide, and then said, oh, that tree. I loaded my bow, took aim, and let my arrow fly. It not only hit the tree, but the red line as well. Even I was amazed. Marsaili took a turn and hit just above the red line. The captain seemed please and walked away. ‘Where do you suppose Treun Castle to be?’ I whispered. ‘Tis along the coast and not far from here,’ Marsaili answered. I was pleased, for it meant a short journey. I again whispered, ‘Why does the captain say which castle we are to attack?’ Marsaili had his wits about him for he guessed the king hoped to trick the English. A clever thought, I supposed.”

  Again Fergus paused, this time to take a drink of ale. “After the captain left us be, we thought to run off – we thought of it long and hard, but...”

  “You stayed?” Cullen asked. “I would have too, rather than bring shame down upon my clan.”

  “Aye,” said Fergus. “There were two scalin’ ladders, each on a stand with wheels. I examined the platform, the wheels, and then the sturdiness of each ladder. They seemed built well enough to hold the weight of four or five men at a time. The ladders were high enough to scale the height of two floors, but not three.”

  “And Treun Castle has three,” Donnan said.

  Fergus chuckled. “Aye. Had we not been so proud of ourselves for hittin’ the mark on the tree, we might have been the wiser. At near sundown we ate a good meal with no thought that it might be our last. The sunset worried me some, for never had I seen one so brilliant. ‘Twas the priest what gave me greater pause, for he blessed those that wished it and I began to think I was in a mite more danger than I supposed. After that, no peaceful rest could I find, for I cannae get Leslie off my mind. I thought of her smile, her laughter and again rebuked myself for not marryin’ her sooner.”

  When Laird Kennedy began to cough again, Fergus stopped and Donnan nodded for the boys to refill Kennedy’s goblet. “Ale is the best remedy for a cough.”

  Kennedy nodded, motioned for his son to go on with the story, and drank.

  “I awoke,” said Fergus, “to the sounds of mooin’ and ‘twas not the familiar mooin’ of cows. I opened one eye and then the other in time to see a yoke of oxen comin’ straight for me. I rolled out of the way and watched the driver steer the oxen to one of the small cannons. Three other yokes were already hitched up ready to go, and I heard not a sound.

  Niall could not contain himself any longer, “In the great battle, the English knights wore chainmail and front and back chest shields. Even their gloves were made of metal. Their horses were bedecked with jewels and chains of gold and silver. When I go to battle, I mean to steal all of it from them, even their horses.”

  Fergus just smiled. “I pray you shall never have to fight for we Scots have no armor, and must make do with as many weapons as we can carry. When the battle is over, a lad dinna think of those things, he only thinks of goin’ home.”

  Niall finally noticed the stern look on his laird’s face and backed away from the table.

  “Once the horses and oxen were affixed,” Fergus continued, “we mounted, held our poll banners high, got in line ahead of the cannons and the scalin’ ladders, and left Edinburgh. Along the way, the villagers happily shared food and drink, for they somehow expected us. When asked to where we were off, the captain said Treun Castle. When last we stopped to rest, we were nowhere near Treun Castle, Marsaili claimed, but Seann Castle was just over the next hill.”

  “Ah, Seann Castle,” said Donnan. “We did hear of that battle.”

  “The spies said the castle looked near deserted and another two said the English were amassin’ around Treun Castle. We laughed – not so aloud as anyone could hear us, mind you. That night, as I lay down to sleep, Marsaili said if he should die, I was to marry his wife.”

  “His wife?” Donnan repeated.

  “I thought him daft at first, but he was somber. He said he trusted no lad but me to see that she and his sons were well cared for.”

  “What did you say?” Berry asked.

  “I said nothin’ at first and then he gave me a warnin’. He said to take care not to fall into his wife’s trap. What trap, I asked. He said he once asked if he pleased her and she said he pleased her in every way possible – save...and then she listed fully ten things he might wish to improve upon.”

  The men chuckled, but Berry’s forehead was still wrinkled. “Did you give him your pledge?”

  “He’d not let me sleep until I did,” Fergus answered. “I was not bothered by it, for I dinna see how I was goin’ to survive a battle anyway. Most of the lads cannae sleep much, so the mornin’ of the battle we rose early, Again the priest blessed us and then the captain said ‘twas any cowards – ‘twas the time to leave. When none left, he sent the followers into the hills.

  Seann Castle was a terrifyin’ sight in the break of dawn, yet the trick worked, for the English garrisons were not there to fight us. ‘Twas a cliff on the backside of the castle, so we had but three sides to fret over and the front seemed most reasonable. We lads got the cannons in place and we were none too quiet about it. Even so, they dinna seem to hear us for no one peeked over the top of the castle wall. It was time then to attack and when the captain gave the word and the cannons fired, we bellowed our intentions, pushed the scalin’ ladders up to the walls, and wedged rocks behind the wheels. Lads began to climb and ‘twas then we knew they had tricked us instead. The English rose up over the top of the castle wall, with their longbows in numbers we cannae count. As soon as one moved back, another shot down on us.”

  “You lost the battle?” Berry asked.

  “Nay, they won,” said Cullen.

  “Aye,” said Fergus, “but had our lads not been just as practiced and able to shoot the English off the wall, we would not have won. In the end, we took back Seann Castle, which was ours to begin with.”

  Fergus bowed his head as if the images he was about to speak of were still fresh in his mind. “Marsaili lay near a tree with an arrow shot deep in his chest. He was yet alive and had just enough words left to remind me of my pledge. I was heartsick, first to watch him die and later to consider the pledge. When I got home, I offered to marry his wife, but she would not have me.” Fergus smiled at their relieved expressions. “She said ‘twas a good thing I did, letting him die in peace, but she would choose her own husband.”

  Cullen grinned. “Has she remarried?”

  “Nay, she passed but a month later. I, on the other hand, learned my lesson and married my Lesley as soon as next the priest came.”

  Cullen took the words Angus Kennedy said to heart and stared at the table. Perhaps it was a mistake to put off marrying Annella until after he built a cottage for it was true – the king’s men could come at any time and take many of the MacGreagors off to battle.

  RMS MAURETANIA

  The knock on Blair’s door was an odd one, more like someone bumping into it than actually wanting entrance. She waited for another knock and when none came, she set the book aside and went to check. She did not have to go that far, for someone had shoved a note under her door. Even so, she opened the door and looked to see if anyone was still there. The hallway was empty.

  Blair closed the door, and then opened the note.

  Miss MacGreagor,

  It is urgent I speak to you. Meet me on the stern deck at precisely 10:00 pm, and come alone.

  A friend.

  Blair rolled her eyes. “The middle of the night? I am not that easily persuaded.” She looked at the note again and tried to discern if a man or a woman had written it. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell and that disappointed her. She would have been more inclined to take to heart a request if given by a woman. Blair folded the note back up and considered what to do.

  It was getting close to time to change clothes for dinner when she decided to show the note to Robin. First however, she had to find her. Naturally, Robin was in the last place Blair looked – the library.

  “You came without an esco
rt?” Robin teased. “Are we never to turn you into a proper lady?”

  “Possibly not.” Blair slowly smiled. The irony that Robin had no escort was not lost on her. She took a seat next to Robin on one of the library sofas, examined the title of the book in Robin’s hand, and scoffed, “Think Impossible Dreams captivating do you? Have a go at this.” She handed Robin the note and then waited to see her reaction. As she expected, Robin’s mouth dropped.

  “Who do you suppose sent it?” Robin asked.

  “I’ve not the slightest idea, do you?”

  “Not in the least,” Robin said. “Another mystery? First the viscount so rudely disappears and now someone hopes to lure you into the darkness without an escort. You are not going, are you?”

  “Without you? Of course not.”

  Robin giggled. “I am tempted just to see who it is, but Mother would have my head if we got caught. Do you suppose a woman wrote the note?”

  “I considered that, but would a lass not simply approach me?”

  “She would. Shall we not go on deck? There is time yet before we have to dress for dinner.” When Blair nodded, Robin closed her book, got up, and put it on the table.

  They had not walked the full length of the promenade before Braxton Dedrick and Lord Jaminson O’Dell joined them. As if prearranged, Mr. Dedrick chose to walk beside Blair and Lord O’Dell beside Robin. Before long, Robin and Lord O’Dell began to lag behind. Hard pressed to think of anything useful to say to Mr. Dedrick, Blair asked, “Have you read Wuthering Heights?”

  “I suspect there are few who have not. What did you think of it?”

  “I found it a bit too ghoulish for my taste, and you?” she answered.