Clandara (40 page)

Some of the Captain's composure deserted him at the tone in which the Earl delivered his remarks. He felt almost as if he were on trial.

“This morning your daughter asked me to do her a favour,” he snapped. “She asked me to find out if a certain James Macdonald of Dundrenan House was alive or dead. I was able to tell her that unfortunately he is very much alive, and that I was engaged upon a search for him. I can assure you, my lord, she made no secret of her attachment to him, nor to the infamous Cause for which he fought.”

“Young man,” the Earl said curtly. “There is no need to use long words with me. Be plain. My daughter asked after this traitor, and you told her he was still alive.”

“I did,” the Captain said stiffly. “And acting on that, your daughter rode out this afternoon to look for him and his people and warn him. I rather expected that she might. She came into a wood up by the shore of the lake there—”

“You mean the Loch,” the old man interrupted. “We have no
lakes
here …”

“Don't try me too far, sir,” the Captain barked at him. “One more insult and I shall leave you to make your own deductions.”

“That would be most unwise.” The Earl regarded him with a curious little smile. “I have friends, sir, in very high places. No stain of disloyalty shows on me. Beware how you conduct this business. Go on; my daughter came into this wood …”

“We were searching for Rebels, and one of them had been hiding there. He ran out and your daughter must have mistaken him for she began shrieking. I heard her myself. ‘James, James, the English are upon you!' Most regrettably we had to silence her by force. I have many witnesses among my men, Lord Clandara. She herself did not attempt to deny it.”

“No,” the Earl said at last. “No, I can well believe that. It seems the case is proved then.” His face was quite composed. It was impossible for the Captain to guess his thoughts.

“I had an only son,” he said at last. “He died. I had a son-in-law; he too is dead. It seems that only James Macdonald of Dundrenan lives. When my daughter told me why she had been brought back a prisoner, I thought afterwards it might have been a lie to make me go away and leave your sentry unmolested. Now that I know it's the truth the matter's altered. Captain Booth, what she has done to betray her allegiance to the King of England does not concern me. If it were only that, not one of you would leave Clandara alive. I tell you this so that you may not think it possible to call the child of a chief to your justice. It is my justice which counts at Clandara. But because of my daughter's betrayal of her own blood and my authority, I shall let you take her to Inverness tomorrow. I do not even want to know what becomes of her. If you will excuse me now, I should like to be alone.”

The ruins of a great house stood open to the sky; its walls were blackened by fire and the upper floors were charred and crumbling. Shreds of silk hung down from one wall, and they were all that remained of the Grey Salon, prepared so carefully by James Macdonald for his bride. The Macdonalds of Dundrenan had taken refuge in the ruins of Kincarrig, and no one had thought to search the relic of an old clan feud. They lived in the cellars and in the outhouses, and little bands of them went out by day, with James or David in command, to search for English troops and catch them unawares when they were looting the poor crofts. Those they caught were killed quickly, but when there was time to spare they took prisoners and questioned them about the movements of their regiments. Few refused the Macdonalds information, and afterwards their burnt and mutilated bodies were left hanging near the mountain roads as a warning to those who came in search of them.

Food was scarce; the Macdonalds trapped and fished, and cooked over a fire in one of the cellars at Kincarrig which was well below ground where no light could be seen. Most who had fled from Culloden had left their arms behind, but the muskets and bayonets of their victims were distributed among them and they had taken many horses. The Macdonalds wore English coats over their kilts, the facings and insignia ripped away. Their numbers had diminished. Some had left their chief at Dundrenan and gone back to protect their own homes if they could. These were taken by the soldiers in due course and shot; afterwards their few sheep or cattle were driven off, the crude farming implements chopped up, and their families, often stripped of their clothes, were left in the empty crofts to starve. Whole families fled westwards to the mountains and the sea, hoping to escape the punitive detachments in the bleak, wild country, and many of them perished from cold and hunger on the way.

Slowly and methodically the victorious English army advanced through the Highlands, burning and killing and gathering the people's means of livelihood, so that the scattered farms were empty of animals and tools and there was nothing left for those who stayed behind. Old men who remembered the Rebellion of thirty years ago had never seen anything to equal the slaughter and destruction inflicted on the people by the Duke of Cumberland. For the Macdonalds of Dundrenan, the centuries turned back; they lived as their wild ancestors had done, pillaging and killing, and the old Chief sat in the ruins of Kincarrig wrapped in his plaid and his men brought him the heads of English soldiers and stray Campbell militiamen as a tribute.

Hate had taken possession of him. Hidden among the low hillocks outside Dundrenan, he had watched his great stronghold burn to the ground, and heard the wagons rattling down the rough tracks as the English carried off his silver and possessions. When they had gone he led his men into the smoking ruins, and there they found the corpses of his servants and one young girl, her ravaged body arranged with horrible obscenity upon the open ground. Suddenly the old man raised his arms and called on God to curse the English in a voice that cracked and trembled. Then he took his sons and his people back into the open country, and it was James who suggested they take refuge at Kincarrig.

Word had reached them through a fugitive Grant that the Prince was still at liberty and on his way to the Isle of Mull with the crippled Cameron of Lochiel and a few followers, there to wait for a French ship which was coming to take them to safety. Sir Alexander had called a council and it was decided that James, as his heir, should leave them and follow the Prince. Kincarrig would not shelter them for much longer, and all that mattered now was the unity of the clan and the promotion of the Cause. James was chosen to lead the Macdonalds and continue the fight from France.

It was late afternoon when David returned and came to report to his father and James. The old man sat upon a stone, and one of the young boys who carried the pipes stood by him, attending on the Chief, and singing to him to amuse him as his own ancestors had done to the wild Macdonald chieftains hundreds of years ago.

“What did ye find?” Sir Alexander demanded. David untied a little bag and laid it at his father's feet. A few silver coins, some buttons and a woman's locket on a metal chain were in it.

“Three troopers,” David said. “There's a detachment of their cavalry five miles away and these were out alone, resting round a burn by the Black Rock Bridge. We have their arms and horses outside. They had bread with them and one of them carried some brandy. I've got it for you.”

“Poor taking,” James said. He had come out from the ruined stables. He looked gaunt and wild and his dark face was bearded; an English bayonet was hanging at his belt beside his dirk. “Did any of them speak?”

“One did,” David said. “We kept him alive for a little time and by the end he cried so hard for his life that I gave it him, and we buried him alive.” He laughed. “There is a detachment of cavalry at Clandara; he was able to tell us that.”

Sir Alexander leaned forward. “Guests, no doubt,” he said softly. “Guests of him who sent the Chisholms out to die?”

“Received there in all honour,” David said. He did not look at James. “Clandara is their headquarters while they search the area.”

The old man leant back and kicked the coins and trinkets aside.

“Give these to those who went with you today. And you, boy, go and bring the brandy. We will have a conference, my sons.”

He was watching James as they sat down and he took the first drink from the bottle. None of them had tasted anything but water since the morning of the battle. The old man's eyes did not flicker or leave his eldest son's face; they had fought together and lived through hardships and dangers, buried their dead and killed their enemies and walked through the smoking ashes of their home together, but he was not satisfied with his son. There was a doubt, and it came to him sometimes at night, when he lay in his plaid on the ground and thought of his second son, whom he had never loved as much as his first. And he had come to the conclusion that his preference was mistaken.

Hugh, mocking, merciless Hugh, was now dearer to him in memory than the son who had given such terrible proof of his weakness in the past. Hugh would not have loved the daughter of their enemy. Hugh would not have changed colour when the two Chisholms mentioned her name, and even then, when David spoke of Clandara, the old man had seen James start. His son was not true, he thought. There was still a weakness in him. And now weakness of any kind was a crime, a treason to all that remained of the clan. The Chief took out the stained and creased letter which he had kept in his doublet, and opened it out.

“Listen, my sons,” he said. “Listen again to what our cousin Margaret says. ‘On the night of the first full moon the north postern gate will be left open for you. Come while the house sleeps and you shall easily overcome them. I have lived and suffered only in order to take my revenge upon them, and I charge you with it, my cousins and kinsmen. Every month at the full moon I shall leave the north gate unlocked until you come.' What does this say to you, my sons?”

“It says that Margaret wrote this when the Castle was not garrisoned by English troops,” James said. He met the look of his father and his brother David without betraying anything. But even though a cold wind blew, the sweat was shining on his forehead.

“And since when have you been afraid of a few sleeping English?” the Chief demanded.

“I am afraid of nothing!” James said. “And, by God, I've proved it often enough!”

“It's not your courage I question.” His father spoke softly, and his yellow eyes were cunning. “I know well enough that there's not a man living of whom you are afraid. So why do you make the troopers your excuse? Isn't this better and better, that the English should be there, sleeping and all unaware when we come upon them? We have men, and horses now, and arms for everyone. Why,” he turned to David, “we will slaughter everyone in the Castle in their beds! And isn't that what troubles
you
!” He rounded suddenly on James. “Come now, David and I are not deceived. It's the woman, isn't it? That's why you talk about the soldiers …”

“That is a lie!” James shouted. “There's no woman who means anything to me!”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Sir Alexander said. “Consider, my son. We hide here like vagabonds in all that the Frasers left of your home – that splendid home you prepared for her so carefully. We have lost everything; lands, houses, everything. We are hunted like dogs and even this place will be thought of in the end. While our enemy, the traitor who would not join his prince, sits on his estates only a few miles distant, closing his doors to fugitives and entertaining Cumberland's troops. What do you suppose they speak of when they're at dinner there? The raids they've made, the crofts they've burnt and the women they've ravished while their husbands look on at bayonet-point? It must be entertaining stuff! I wonder how the Lady Katharine likes it.”

“How do you know she's there?” James countered.

His father laughed. “Oh, she'll be there, protected by her traitor father, pretending to mourn for the honest man who married her and whom you would have killed. Whatever he was, no English troops would have made their headquarters there if he were still alive! So no woman means anything to you – and yet you would have killed him, you were so jealous!”

James looked at him. “All that is in the past. It was a moment's hate and madness. I repeat, no woman means anything to me.”

“If you are going to lead our people when I'm gone, then you will have to prove it to them,” Sir Alexander said. “And if you can't, then I shall give your right to David here, and he shall join the Prince. You owe me this, James. You owe it to me to prove that you're no longer guilty of that love.”

“I am no longer guilty of it,” James said slowly. “I'm as eager to attack Clandara as you are.”

“I want more proof than that,” the old man said. “I took an oath in the ashes of Dundrenan that no one who harboured our enemies should be spared. I shall keep that oath and I lay it on you also. Not one man, woman or child shall be left alive in Clandara. And you, James, will redeem your honour by putting her to death yourself.”

“This is what you ask of me?” James's dark eyes burned into the yellow ones.

“No,” his father answered shortly. “It is what I
command
. And now go and summon our people. Tonight is the full moon, and tonight we attack Clandara!”

James rose and bowed to him. As he walked away, David turned questioningly to his father.

“Will he obey you?”

“He will,” Sir Alexander answered. “His pride will make him. And when it's done and Clandara is in ashes, then I shall die happy. If he'd refused, I think I would have had him killed. Come, drink from the bottle, David, and then pass it to me. It's growing cold and we've a long way to ride.”

“If Margaret fails, and the gate is not open …” David said.

“It will be open,” his father answered. “I know it. We will get in.”

Annie had gone down to get her mistress some food, in spite of Katharine's protests that she wanted nothing, and in the long dim corridor leading to the kitchens she came upon the Countess Margaret's maid. For the first time for many months, Jean did not back against the wall to let her pass.