FLAME ACROSS THE HIGHLANDS (14 page)

The chamber entrance loomed in her path like the most awesome  portcullis.  Raising a trembling hand to the wood, however, she knocked, hesitantly, a gesture which reflected her apprehension. 
Even so, the sound was heard, for his bellowed “Who is it” thundered in the silence. It  nearly sent Glenna scrambling back down the stairs. Only her love for Alastair urged her to stand her ground. Then there was no more chance for flight when the door was yanked open.

“Who disturbs a mon’s sleep!” the furled brows darted up in surprise as he eyed the intruder in the soft torchlight of the hall. “Ah, it’s you daughter. But Glenna? Brianna? Which one?” The timidity with which she entered the room told him. “Ah, my gentle dove. What brings you here after the candles hae been snuffed?”

Though she tried to speak, hre words came out in a strangled gasp. “To….talk with ye.”

“At this time o’ the eve? By god, lass, what culd be so important?” Taking her hand he squeezed her cold fingers with his own, pulling her inside. Lighting a taper, he  lowered his bulk into a wooden chair and gestured for her to do the same. Instead, Glenna remained standing.”Well, speak up, child.”

Glenna’s words came out in an excited rush. “Alastair is…is going to ask to take me to wife and I love him, Father. I want to marry him. Please. Ye canna tell him no.” she fidgeted with the tie of her belt, averting her eyes.

“I canna? I
can
and I will!”              The words exploded from his lips. “I will no’ hae a slip of a lassie telling me what I can say. I am the chief of the MacQuarie. My word is law!”

“But…” Glenna could not keep from quaking, and she cautiously positioned her arasaid to hide her knocking knees. Dear god, she’d done just what she’d feared. Angered him. “I…I only meant that I want to be his wife and…I…”

“Nae! No’ the daughter o’ The MacQuarie. Ye’ll no’ be tyin’ yerself wi’ a harpist.” His face turned red as he ranted, he balled his hands into fists. “There’s no advantage in that. Nae, by God!”

Blessed Saint Michael, she’d made a mess of it, just as she’d known she wuld. “Please! I love him!” she wrestled with the dilemma of her fate, at last saying stubbornly, “I willna marry anyone else.”

“Ye will if I say!” His eyes glittered in the candlelight, simmering with rage.

“Nae! Nae!” There was such a fiercesome pressure pushing at her chest that she feared she couldn’t breathe.

“Ye’ll do as I say! My daughters will mate wi’ warriors and make of clan MacQuarie a mighty clan. We’re a small clan, no’ as big as the MacDonalds or MacLeans but we’re noble. One of the branches of the great clan Alpin. Be proud of that lass. The blood of kings runs in your veins, remember that.”

“I am proud and I do remember, Father.”
             

He lapsed into a story she’d heard a hundred times or more about a faraway ancestor being the second son of the first Scottish King. “And my grandfather cormac Mor, a chief of the MacQuaries in the time of the second Alexander, was a hero. He was.” He sighed. “Aye, when at first I had no male MacQuaries I lamented the succession of the chiefhood, but now I realize how precious daughters really are. Brianna, Orianna, your wee lassie sister and
you
, all four daughters. Ye are my hope for the clan. To increase our territory and power. Aye, I’ll find ye all noble men.”

Glenna shook her head. “Warriors. Bullies all.”  Her deep affection for her handsome bard gave her a surge of courage to defend him. “Alastair is worth ten of your fine Highalnd lairds. He’s kind and gentle and…”

“Bah! He’s useless to me in battle except for the marching rhythm he brings with his plucking. I need a buffer from my enemies. That’s the way o’ men o’ the Highlands. To unite and form a stronger clan to offset the common enemy.  Bah, the bard is already one of the clan. I repeat, there is no advantage in marrying you to him.” Striking his fest on a wooden table near his chair, he startled Glenna. “Besides, ‘tis not a woman’s place to make a fuss over such things. It is for you to wait for me to find a husband for you, not for you to go sniffing after a man like a bitch in heat.”

“I’m not!”

“I’ve seen ye making cow eyes at him, but I’d hoped it would pass. Now I see I hae made an error in judgement. Ye hae no sense, daughter. No more than a titmouse.”

W
ithout warning Glenna burst into a storm of tears. Though Brianna could emerge unscathed by Lachlan’s temper, she could not. She had a softer heart.

“It isna fair.” Men and their constant warring, their lopsided code of honor. When all was said and done, she didn’t mean any more to her father than his horses, fie, his cattle.
"You're cruel, Father.  Cruel.   I never....never..."  Dashing the degrading moisture from her cheeks she sniffled.

Lachlan
was unnerved by her  tears  and regretted his outburst.  Touching her shoulder his eyes  softened.  "I dunna want to  sadden ye, lass.   I agreed to let ye stay here among yer own.  I  willna send ye away. What more can I do than that?  Surely 'tis more than some fathers could do. Yer sister is the one chosen to go away.  The bargain is sealed.  You'll stay among yer own clan."

"Ye promise."

Aye, lass.  I'm thinking to contract ye to  Jamie MacDonald.  He's grown up at our hearth.  He's made  his home
here
so ye don't need go  away from yer home.  Ye've known the laddie since he was  a barin and fostered him wi' us.  He'll make ye a good  husband and  will unite us to Clan Ranald."

"Jamie?  Jamie?  A beardless boy who follows ye about like a shadow.  Fie, I dunna want such as him." Her low
er lip curled under in a pout.

"Then Colin.  He's a di
stant cousin and a MacKinnon."

"No!" A swift of emotion made her foolishly brave, though her voice quivered as violently as  a leaf
in the wind.  "Alastair's blood is every bit as good as his.  He's of Clan MacKinnon blood too."

"Aye, but touched wi' the stigma of
a bastard in his family tree."

"I don't care."  Her shoulders heaved as she wept.  "Oh, please.  I don't want to marry a
ny man but my bard.  I canna."

Lachlan
glowered into eyes so like his own.  "Aye. Ye will.  One or the other.  I am the MacQuarie and yer father.  Were I to chose him you would marry the very devil himself at my command.  I would soon be rocking the next generation of MacQuaries on my knee, taking them up to their beds when they fall asleep before the warm fire."

"And that's all I'm to be, a breeder for your grandsons and granddaughters?"  Her voice came out in a hopless whisper as she asked the question.  "Hae I no say in the matter of who share
s my bed?"   His stubborness threatened to keep her from the one man her heart cried out for.  Again she lamented that she had not the feisty, able tongue of Brianna.

"That's what I'm saying, though its not as harsh a reality as ye make it sound, lass.  I married yer mother to forge a bond wi' my clansmen.  It's the way of the
Highlands."
              "But it's not
fair
," she whispered again. Men were never understanding of a woman's woes, she thought unhappily.  Girls didn't fight and kill, and because of that they had no voice in their lives.  Even Brianna was unhappy, wanting one man, betrothed to another. 

"It is the way o' things," he exclaimed, letting his breath out in a long, deep sigh.  He was weary to the bone.  It had been a long exhausting day and he little
relished this confrontation.

Glenna
was a gentle, shy soul who reminded him a great deal of Mary. Somehow he had to make her understand that some things in life were of necessity."Let me tell ye that it is not the first time I've had to so loudly deny such a request.  I hae told few people but I will tell ye now that yer Aunt Mary wanted to marry a mon I did no' approve of many, many years ago."

"Aunt Mary?"  All
Glenna had heard of her aunt was that she had disappeared. 

"Aye."  In the dim light she looked much like his sister.  For a moment the years were swept away as he remembered.   Mary's plea had been just as
tearful,l and he could not help but wonder what might have happened if he'd been more lenient with her.  Had she been so unhappy that she had willingly drowned herself? It had been a thought that had weighed on his mind all these years.  And yet he could not have done other than he did.  "'Tis a story I hae never told."

"Tell me!"  The castle was so silent that she could hear his breathing.  Clutching her hands tightly, cocking her head to o
ne side she listened intently.

"Yer Aunt wanted to marry one of the hated
Campbells!  Her affrontary was much greater than yers, lass."  Deep lines engraved a path around his mouth as he stared at the candle's flame, remembering.  "A Campbell!  They who hae cheated us of Mull."  For a moment he seemed to be talking to himself. "Whenever MacDonald, MacQuarie, MacGregor or MacDougall lands are lost by forfeiture there is always a Campbell or a member of his family to claim a large share of the redistribution.  Ach, the greedy Campbells."

"And yet ye
hae promised Brianna to one."

He wore such a pained look that Caitlin wished she hadn't been so bold as to say such a thing.  "I did.  I hae sacrificed my own flesh and blood for the good of the clan.  But it was different way back then when yer Aunt asked my permission to marry one of
them
.  I tell ye this just so ye will know, that I loved my sister and denied her.  Likewise I love ye and must make a similar denial."  The stern timbre returned to his tone.  "Ye willna marry the bard!"

"And that's the
last ye'll say on the matter."

"Aye!"

Glenna wanted to rage at him, plead with him, get down on her knees if it would do any good, but the stubborn, bearded jaw of her father was held so rigid that she knew he'd not change his mind.  Not tonight.  In dejection she walked toward the door, not even bothering to say goodnight.  Her last thought was that she and Brianna had made a fine mess of things.  Now there were two unhappy lassies, neither one allowed to follow their heart.

Chapter Fifteen

The soft sound of weeping woke Brianna from a fitful sleep.  "Glenna?" She propped herself up  on one elbow, squinting across the room at her sister's tiny bed. "Glenna,  what's wrong, hinny?"

"F...f...father!"   She gasped the story between so
bs. "I...I...I talked with him late last night, told him about Alastair but he said....he wouldna let me marry him!"

"I was  afraid he might be a stubborn old goat."  Brianna scurried from her bed, crawling  between the covers and hugging Glenna tight.  "Hush now!  Dry yer tears.  It will be all right."

"Not if I hae to marry Colin or Jamie.  I might as well hae married Robbie Campbell if I canna  hae the man I love," Glenna wailed. "And then at least maybe you  could be happy...."

"Don't talk foolishness!   Ye'll marry your laddie if I hae any say about it
. I promised ye I'd talk to Father and I will."  Plopping back on the pillows  she crossed her  arms behind her head and gave the matter considerable thought. "It won't do to fuss, he'll be expecting that.  He will only stand his ground all the more firmly.  Ye know how he can be.  If ye refuse he'll only lock ye in yer room and ye'll be the one to suffer. Ah, I think I hae it."  She stiffled a laugh with the back of her hand.  "Father thinks he rules this roost, but  he can be outmatched, or so I've found."

Glenna blinked through her tears.  "Then ye think there is hope?"

"Are ye willing to gamble?  Is Alastair in truth a strong mon despite his calling?  Ye  told me  once he was."

"Aye!  He's tall a
nd slim but sinewy.  I think he might hae been a  good warrior if he'd needed  to be but...."

"Then that's yer answer."  Taking the edge of the coverlet, she dried her sister's tears.

"What is?"

"I'll find a way to persuade Father to let Alastair fight for ye!"  Ign
oring Glenna's shocked look of awe, she detailed a plan as they dressed and combed their hair.  Lachlan would be so certain that Alastair would lose any kind of combat that he would surely agree to her idea.  Anything to keep Glenna from moping  about like a wounded  rabbit.   "But we'll make certain that he doesna lose."

"But how can we do that?  Brie...."  Glenna started to protest but Brianna silenced her. 

"Alastair is nimble  in his  fingers, is he not? And he's not totally unskilled in weaponry,  though perhaps a bit out of practice. Leave it up to me.  And hae trust.  Remember how it was when we were little?"

Arm in arm the two sisters
sauntered down the stairs, Glenna dressed  femininely in a hunter green gown with dun-colored arisaid, Brianna once again in her mannish shirt and breacon.  They were late. The morning meal had already been eaten, thus they  had to content themselves with the scraps that were left, but even so both lassies wore a smile.

"Ye look as mischievous as two wee brownies!" 
Lachlan eyed his daughters suspiciously, fully expecting Glenna's tears again.  "What hae ye been plannin'?"             

"A bit o' strategy, Father, to make an old bear see reason."

"She told ye about our confrontation."  He scowled warningly, causing Glenna to take a step back.  Brianna merely smiled.

"I silenced her crying by reminding her that our father is
always
a most fair man.  I told her ye'd not let her go without allowing her man at least one chance to claim her."

"Nae, there'll be no changing my mind!"

Brianna tweeked his beard.  "Och, stop yer growling and let me explain." She looped her arm through her father's.  "We need excitement around here!  It's been a long time since we've had a lad fight for his lassie.  But I've been thinkin' it to be just about time."

"Yer daft if ye think I'd....."

Brianna rambled on, undaunted.  "Glenna in turn promised to abide by the outcome. No more tears.  If Alastair loses she'll give in to her fate without even a whimper. "

"Brie....!"  The terrible thought that Alastair might lose tempered G
lenna's forced smile.  She tugged at Brianna's sleeve but was ignored.

"What more can ye ask for than that, Fat
her?"  Before he could utter a word of protest, Brianna  quickly proposed a show of skill, the winner becoming Glenna's bridegroom and son-by-law of the MacQuarie chieftain.  She winked.  "And would ye be wanting to wager on the outcome?" 

"There'll be no wager and no fight!"  Unwittingly
, he was playing into her hands and he knew it.

"Because yer afraid Alastair might
win
? "

"Och, sometimes ye can be a trial, daughte
r but I can tell ye one thing. Ye're wrong if ye think the bard
can
win.  I'm a fighting mon and I know.  He'll lose" 

"Ha!  I say yer wrong!  If we're to believe the tales he sings, then love can bring a powerful magic.  But just give the word and we'll see first hand how potent love can truly be.  Agree to the combat."

"Glenna must marry a fightin mon!  A mon to bring strength to the clan.  And honor.  We'll talk no more aboot it." He grumbled beneath his breath. Bending down, he laced his currans, fur side out. "Time for the hunt." His announcement seemed to cool his ire.  Brianna knew it to be his favorite pastime.

"Would ye care to wager on who can fell the largest deer?"  Following  her father as he tromped out of the hall and to the area of the castle grounds where the horses were tethered, Brianna caught sight of Ian Campbell.  Strange how such he always caused her heart to flutter so, she thought. 
             

For the hunt men would use bows and arrows, though some took their swords and dirks with them. Usually  Brianna went barefoot in summer
, but today  she wore
brogs
--laced shoes with deer skin worn with hairy side outwards just like the men.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ian Campbell  and was surprised to see that he was dressed in  like manner.  Had he been as mesmerized by the contact between them last night?  She could not help but wonder.  As their eyes met and held she was given her answer. He had been.

The horses were equiped with
keisans
,  woven baskets slung over a horses back to hang on both sides and carry back any small game or birds. The horse's harnesses were of twisted withies, rods of hazel, the saddle was a piece of goat skin. Brianna heard Ian  mention more than once that he was used to English leather saddles and bridles, but  it appeared he soon mastered the more simplified version.   He seemed surprised to see Brianna mount a horse, armed with a bow. 

"A woman going hunting?"
he asked.  Some of the English women went falconing, but he'd  seldom been in the company of a woman skilled in bringing down animals. Ian  shook his head as he rode up to take his place beside Brianna. After  meeting  her his impression of women sitting dociley at their sewing had been shattered forever. Yesterday she had shown her skill at the games, today it seemed he was to learn she accompanied the men on their hunts as well.

"I've been hunting since I was no higher than my father's knee," she answered t
artly, misunderstanding his words to be criticism. Joining a small party of hunters, she sat her mount proudly. "We'll see  if ye can keep up with me."  So challenging, she nudged her horse's flanks and quickly outdistanced him. Teasing him, taunting him by her very aloofness. She hoped to embarrass him, but like a shadow he seemed always just a horse's length behind or in front of her. 

The
island of Ulva was much like a flat, terraced cone, composed of mountain tops and stark naked volcanic rock.   The ground was porous and bracken grew rampant.  Trees of many kinds grew well in the sheltered parts on this base-rich soil from the volcanic rock.  There were  green, even terraces with occasional gullies.   Truly a beautiful landscape, Ian thought as he rode along.

"The hunting here will be a mite different," Lachlan MacQuarie declared proudly, riding up beside him.  "Our animals include the Rhum mouse, brown rat, pygmy shrew, pipistrelle bat, grey seal, common seal,
and otter.  Besides the red deer there are feral goats, lizards and palmate newts.  Make yer choice. Ulva is a wonderland of fish and wildlife."  He explained that salmon was rare, brown and sea trout abundant, and eels common.  Edible crab was fished off the rocky coasts.  "Oysters  are present in  the Outer Hebrides, sometimes twenty, horse load of them on the sand."

"Oysters!  A welcome delicacy."

"We'll hae some at tonights  feast." Lachlan pointed toward the Island of Staffa, its hexagonal columns rising up abruptly from the sea.  MacQuarie territory too, though no one had visited the island in a long while.  "It's said to be haunted by a ghost.  A frightening woman who sings a wailing song," he announced, pausing briefly as he pointed in the direction of the sea.

"
Staffa?  I've heard of it." He wondered if it was really haunted.

Above them a dark sh
roud of clouds were gathering. Ominous. Threatening. Ian wondered how long it would be before there would be a storm. Strange how thunder and lightning always seemed a portent of evil.  Ah, well, he'd put it from his mind.  He was far more interested in the world of the living than in any "other world" beings.  Nudging his horse he tried to keep pace with the MacQuarie clan leader but was soon outdistanced, unfamiliar as he was with riding on such rough terrain.  Glancing out of the corner he was embarrassed to see Brianna again guide her horse past him.  As she looked at him he smiled, but it was not returned and her aloofness stung him  after  the smiles she had given him last night at the dancing.  He had just begun to hope that  any enmity between them had been soothed.

"Ye had best hurry," she said called
sharply over her shoulder.

Seeking a firm grip on the reins, Ian guided his horse in the direction that she had taken, trying to catch up with her at the top of the hill.  "Brianna, wait!"  Hearing his frantic shout of her name she slowed her mount and waited for him.  Truly she did not want him to get lost or come to harm.

By Saint Michael what a lovely sight she made, he thought.  Wearing that short garment similar to a man's, her shapely long legs were plainly visible beneath the hem of the plaid, drawing his stare again and again. If it was disloyal to Robbie to oggle her, he couldn't help it.  Surely it did no harm to appreciate beauty.

"You ride well, lassie," he breathed. Despite his resolve
, a tightness constricted his breathing whenever he caught sight of her.  She had proved beyond a doubt that she was a woman who could not be ignored. 

They thu
ndered through the forest amid a tangle of horsemen, Lachlan's  huge  russet wolfhounds leading the way, hot on the scent.  Their voices mingled  in  an eager racket of barking which echoed through the lonely  forest as they sighted their prey across a large burn.   Bows were raised as the clan chieftain  gave the signal.  A whir of arrows stung the air, bringing down the quarrey of a large red deer. 

"He's down!"  Lachlan MacQuarie's triumphant cry, accompanied by a
thunder of hooves and a splash as the hunters forded  the  water. Ian, however, did not follow. He'd sighted his own target, a deer larger than this one. To his surprise, he saw that Brianna had spotted it too, for she managed to beat him in reacting to the prize. In a  flash of  red and green she rode by him.

They
rode long and hard.  It was a predominantly oak forest, Ian noticed.  Some pine and birch.  Much of the ground was high with a lot of bare rock and scrub, difficult to travel through.  On such ground there was no animal better adapted than the red deer.

"Yer laggin' behind again....."
             

Oh, how she was enjoying her victory
, he thought.  "I'm not used to such rocky ground!" he shouted out.  "But even, so I'll give you a contest  if that's what you’re after."

"I dinna want ye to get lost.  The others are way up ahead."

Once again Ian  tried hard to smile as he nudged his horse closer to hers. He had intended to ignore her, but now gave up that idea. Truly he wanted her to at least like him. "Can we make a truce?" he asked at last, more than a little unnerved by her apparent hostility toward him.  Ignoring the attraction he felt for her was not going to work, but why not at least try to have some semblance of peace between them.

Her red hair came loose of its plaits and long strands blew into her eyes.  Reaching up she brushed  the silken
, flaming strands away.  "A truce?" Her mouth was set in a grim line but it relaxed.   "All right."  This time she didn't barge away but rode with him into the meadows and beyond, coming to the spreading trees of the forest.   Brianna  seemed to be intent upon filling her eyes with the beauty of the woodland,  but Ian kept his eyes upon her. 

"You are a
surprising woman, Brianna; as well as being beautiful you're as skilled as anyone I've ever seen."

She didn't answer him, taking ref
uge in silence as they rode. Ian knew he'd been too bold in praising her looks.  Perhaps she would never be able to forget how brazen he had been in kissing her.  It condemned him in her eyes.  And yet he did not regret for one moment what had passed between them.