FLAME ACROSS THE HIGHLANDS (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

T
he sea voyages were far from the enticing adventure Brianna had supposed.  The violently churning ocean soon turned her insides upside down.  Seasickness or fear?  As the familiar shores of Ulva  had fallen away to be lost in the pale pink glow of dawn, she  had felt an unnerving sense of wariness. Since she was a child she'd heard tales of mermaids and sea people, water horses and water bulls that enticed unwary travelers. 
Nuckelavee. Glastig
. Were these creatures even now lying in wait to snatch the boat as it bounced on the waves? In consternation, she expressed her fears to Darach, the fisherman whose boat was taking her to Argyll.

“Dunna worry, Brianna. Water horses and water bulls live in the lochs and rivers, no’ in the sea. I’ve been a fisherman since a boy and I’ve encountered nary a one.” Darach puffed out his chest with pride as if to say it was fear of his prowess that kept them away. “Though I wouldna mind meeting up wi’ a mermaid.”

Crossing herself, Brianna looked over her shoulder from time to time. Though the fisherman assured her there were none around the boat, she watched the waves warily for any sign of such a beastie nonetheless. Fear only added to the misery she already felt. The unpleasant creatures were not her only reservation. She was instigating an act for which there might well be repercussions. Her father would be incensed if he found out what she had done. She knew naught of Duncan. For all she knew she might well be walking straight into a beehive.   And yet she could not turn back.  Was Ian Campbell worth it?  Aye, whispered a voice.  He was the only man she wanted for her husband, the only man who stirred her blood.  God willing she would have her way.

Grasping the
edge of the small
curach
, a boat constructed with wicker frame and covered with hides,   Brianna reflected on her daring deed.  Darach had not been as easy to persuade as she had supposed.  His loyalty and affection for his chieftain had caused him to staunchly refuse her request at first.  Only her threat to go all alone had softened his resolve.  That and a steadfast bribe of a new sword had acted to change his mind.  Brianna had convinced him of the favor he would be doing her father by acting as her guide and seeing to her safety. In the end he had grudgingly agreed, though not without ample warning. 

Now as the boat rode the rough waves she found herself wishing halfheartedly that Darach had won the argument
. Oh, she had been brave and fearless at home amid familiar surroundings. Now, she must fight her inner turmoil and bolster her courage.

Up and down, back and forth, the boat rocked unendingly. Brianna and the fisherman  traveled until a dusting of powdery stars dotted the sky, fading into clouds of mist above the horizon.  She looked for the familiar constellations and contented herself with counting stars
. Lulled by the soft rhythm of the oars, soothed by the rise and dip of the blades as they slapped the waves, she drifted off into a fitful sleep.  Her mind drifted from one fancy to another, imagining the expression she would read on Ian Campbell's face when she walked brazenly into his uncle's hall.  No shy shrinking maiden she!  She'd prove herself a worthy match.

Deep in her dreams she was conscious only of the motion of the boat and the sound of the water. 
Awakening for a moment, she could see the shadowed form of Darach as he bent and stretched at the oars. The moon was at its quarter, the black water glistened with the tiny dots that were  reflections of the stars. The air was a penetrating damp cold, and she hugged herself to keep from shivering. Finally complete exhaustion took control of her and she fell asleep again.

Brianna awoke just as the first beams of light tugged at the morning sky. The breathtaking mountain grandeur of Northern Argyll silhouetted the horizon
, causing her to  gasp audibly.  "So beautiful!"

"Aye," Darach agreed.  "
And its a paradise for salmon fishing.  My father and I used to brave the Campbell's anger to fish these waters.  And not once did we come up with empty nets." Darach grinned, his sun-toughened skin tugging into wrinkles.  "Though we might hae doubled our catch had yer father not been so stubborn." In the true spirit of clan fairness, Lachlan MacQuarie insisted that all fishing lines and nets be of equal length to prevent any one fisherman from obtaining an unfair advantage in the waters.

Argyll's jagged coastline seemed to extend for miles, making the boat's landing
harrowing as it swept ashore.  Nonetheless  Darach artfully steered the tiny vessel up the coastline of a great sea loch and came at last to an area that facilitated a smooth beaching.  Clutching her few possessions, Brianna  climbed from the boat, fighting to get her sea legs under control. The cramped position had weakened her muscles somewhat.

T
he Cambell's land beautiful and colorful, its greenery covered with buds and flowers. Still, the journey to the castle would be a long and exhausting one, by foot over steep hills. That she wasn’t certain of the exact location would be a further hindrance, though she was determined that if Ian could find her clan’s castle she could find his.

As they climbed higher and higher, the
changing colors of the sky lit up the variety of scenes below--valleys surrounded by mountains with rolling hills to the south. The many flat and lonely brown bogs along the  edge of the ocean were in stark contrast to the flower-covered hills she had seen earlier. It was rugged like her home, not completely good for farming. The fields near the mountains were stony, swampy, treeless or bare. 

Everywhere
, shepherds could be seen driving their flocks of black-faced sheep along the moors, heading toward fresh pasture, others to market or fair. Peasants existed in miserable hovels built of wattle or some wicker work strengthened with earth and clay and roofed with heather, turf,  rushes or ferns.  The huts were round, the windows small and the smoke from the fire escaped through a hole in the roof. Her first impression of the Campbell lands as green and flower covered faded as she faced the reality surrounding her.

The long hours gradually lengthened  as they traveled over the lonely landscape
, hoping the shepherds had pointed them in the right direction. Sheep, goats, and small wild animals  inhabited the area, roaming about freely. Whereas on Ulva  horses had longer hair and were left out of doors even in the winter, here the horses were stabled.  An English custom no doubt, she thought.  Highlanders never pampered their horses, she thought to herself, but strengthened them by exposing them to the weather.

They
had made plans to camp along the way but Brianna  found it unnecessary. Coming upon a small village, she discovered that like her clansmen, those from other clans were also very hospitable, even though they did not know who she was.  To them, she was but a weary traveler who was offered hospitality at every door. Even fugitives from justice were safe from capture when visiting other clans. Although she knew it was  Highland custom that strangers be given the best accommodation in the house and the best food obtainable, she hadn’t expected such treatment here where many English customs were said to be recognized. Perhaps then, people were much the same wherever they lived.

She did find one difference in diet, however.
The people in Ian's land were not as much hunters as hers, she noticed and depended more upon domestic meat—lamb or beef—instead of venison.  Indeed, they had also been offered milk, cheese, butter, oatmeal and barley meal  prepared in various ways, and bannocks seemed to be the staple diet. Herbs and wild fruits made  a pleasant variety to their food intake.

It seemed the people were not as prosperous here as in he
r father's lands and Brianna supposed it was this new idea of feudalism that was to blame.  How glad she was that her father had been so staunchly against it.  Possession of the land was the principal difference between the old and the new systems.  After she was married, Brianna thought, she'd try to convince her husband to go back to the old ways of clan loyalty and mutual ownership of land.  Highlanders needed to band together, not display the greed of the English.

She had never dreamed that
Duncan’s castle would be so difficult to find. Already they had been here for two days. This land was vast. Though Darach had been expert when  it came to the sea, on land he was unsure of the route to be taken, even though the peasants had given directions. At last, just as Brianna thought she could not take another step, she saw the rounded walls and roof tops standing tall against the deep blue sky. The Campbell stronghold--Dunstaffnage Castle, situated on a platform of rock on a promontory at the south west entrance to Loch Etive—was surrounded on three sides by the sea.  The ten foot thick outer wall was nearly indistinguishable form the black crag on which it was situated upon.  It hovered high above the earth, tangible proof of the Campbell's strength.

Brianna thought of all that she had heard about the castle. 
The peasants were proud of its history and had rambled on about it endlessly. Indeed, it had been the main topic of conversation. It was built on the site of a former home of Scottish kings who had moved their capital to Scone.  It had been built for Alexander II's attack against the Norsemen when they held the Hebrides.  A little over four years ago, Dunstaffnage was captured in a bloody battle of fire and sword from the MacDougalls by Robert the Bruce. The self-crowned King Robert had appointed MacArthur, a distant relative of the Campbell's, as the constable and captain of Dunstaffnage.  He had turned it over to Duncan for the strategic maneuverability of the land.  Soon it would be Brianna's home.

They
approached the castle over a natural causeway of barren rocks  that was protected from the wind by trees.  The castle was different than the MacQuarie dun.  It was built upon a mound of dirt, with foundation beams and uprights of wood to hold the roof.  Brianna had never seen a castle like this before. It had a foundation of stone but was built mainly of wood. Perhaps that accounted for the lack of forest land as they moved further inland. She seemed to have discovered yet another English custom put into practice here. How wrong they were to use building material that could be put to the torch. Her father’s castle was nearly impregnable. She felt a bit smug to know that her clan was so much smarter than the Campbells, or any Lowlanders, for that matter. 

Torches blazed along the ramparts. The
Campbell  banner was flying, indicating that Duncan  was  at home.  The people had been so hospitable, she had no reason to think Duncan would be otherwise. The thought of a welcoming fire and the comfort within the castle’s walls spurred her onward. So thinking, she motioned Darach to hurry. Before they had progressed very far, however, the roaring sound of thunder beckoned their ears.

"Is it going to rain?"
she asked, looking skyward. Strange, but she saw not even one cloud in the sky. Not thunder then, but the sound of horses’ hooves.

"Horsemen!"  Darach's leathery face twisted in fear.  Shakily he pointed his finger.  A large body of warriors advanced toward them from the south, sounding an alarm.  With thumping heart, Brianna followed the line of his vision to see for herself. 

"Campbells I do believe. To welcome us?"  She held that hope, but the ferocity with which the riders swept down upon them soon proved just the opposite.  In mere moments they were surrounded.

"Who are ye and what is yer business?" Brianna raised
her eyes to encounter  a cruelly fascinating face that reminded her ominously of the horrid
fachan
, a one-eyed, one-legged, one-armed creature of folklore. Like that monster, this man was war-scarred and had only one small black eye that stared at her from beneath thick brows; the other eye was covered by a patch. Holding one arm behind his back, he took a step forward and she suppressed a shudder as she scrutinized the man talking to her.

He might have been handsome once, before the ravages of battle left its mark. His features were pleasant enough—a thick gold shaggy beard,
a nose as long as her thumb, and tawny hair that poked out beneath his conical helmet.  "Why are ye on trespassing on Duncan Campbell's lands?" the man questioned in a deep booming voice.  So much for hospitality, Brianna thought.

Mustering up her courage she answered, "I've come to see the chieftain!  He and I hae some important talk to initiate."

"This is the Campbell's land and ye are no' a Campbell," growled a second man, moving forward.

"Nonetheless Duncan Campbell will be pleased to see me."

"Our laird allows no one access except wi'
his
approval."

Before Brianna could answer
, she was forcibly captured, lifted to sit astride the man's stallion.  The horses galloped up the rise of land towards the castle and though Brianna offered loud protest, her voice was lost in the rumble of the hooves.  Her last thought, as the party of horsemen passed beneath the raised portcullis, was that instead of coming freely to Duncan's hall as she had planned, she was being taken to the Campbell stronghold with all the indignity of a prisoner.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Brianna was roughly ushered inside the Great Hall and pushed into a heap before a large carved chair. With her flaming hair tumbling wildly about her shoulders, falling into her eyes, she supposed she must look like some wild woman.  Well, perhaps she was.  Surely, her fury knew no bounds to be so ill treated.  If  this was any measure of Duncan Campbell's  leadership then she was not surprised the MacQuaries had scorned him for so long.  Never would her father have so abused a woman. Only enemy warriors were so forcibly captured. And what of  the poor fisherman?  In the excitement she had lost sight of Darach but  was fiercely determined to protect him. Venomously she glared at her "hosts".

"Watch her, while I get
Duncan," she heard the dark-eyed man say. Two of the others hurried to obey, hovering over her as if she were a felled deer.

"Aye.  Hurry to get yer chieftain and tell him that Brianna nic
Lachlan of the Clan MacQuarie is awaiting."  Did she perceive astonishment on the man's face before he hurried away?  Well, so much the better.  She'd soon have him taken to toll for such unwarranted behavior.

Dragging herself up
from the floor Brianna brushed at her gown and ran her fingers through her tousled hair.  Eyeing her captors, she snorted disdainfully as she squared her shoulders.  They'd soon be begging her pardon.  Affecting a haughty pose, she let her eyes roam freely about the room, critically assessing it.  Her father always said that a man could tell much from another man's abode.  What then was this man Duncan like?

Certainly he seemed to have an affection for luxury.  The interior of
Dunstaffinage Castle was much grander than she had ever supposed.  Just like in her father's hall, the walls were lined with benches, but these were covered in padded wool cushions and embroidered designs, not bare wood.  The lofty hammer-beamed ceiling was hung with bright colored banners, including those of scarlet and gold.  The king's banner? Not surprising since the king's own sister had married into the clan. Even the floor was lavishly decorated with curly sheepskin  rugs.  Huge tapestries depicting the Campbell bravery covered the walls, including several which very obviously spoke of victory over the MacQuaries. The sight of them angered her and were a reminder of years spent in turmoil.             

The wooden walls were adorned with a gaudy d
isplay of shields and weapons--massive two-handed cla'mors as well as  English broadswords, axes, spears, dirks, and  long tautly strung bows.  Clearly the most important thing to Duncan Campbell was warfare, she thought with scorn.  Although her father’s castle also displayed some weaponry, it was nothing like this! Ah yes, she had heard about the Campbell’s ambitions.  In disgust at the whole idea she turned her gaze away.  What a fool she was to come, to think for a moment that she could hold any sway over such a man. 

"There was a fisherman with me," she declared to ta
llest of the men guarding her. "What was his fate? I'd hae him treated kindly. He's done no wrong.  Och, it was a churlish thing to sweep down upon us as ye did." Her eyes blazed flickered accusingly.

"He's down below in the dungeon," the man a
nswered with a leering grin.  "Which is where you might well be if ye dunna hold yer tongue and mind yer ways." He gave her a not-so-gentle shove.

"If my father were here I'd hae you boiled in oil," Brianna retorted lou
dly.  "Ye touch me again....." She shrieked her anger as he called her bluff.

"
Douglas, what is going on?" Ian's voice.  "Who is this young woman I hear you are holding pris...."  Ian's jaw dropped open in surprise as he entered the room and saw Brianna standing there.  For just a moment he doubted his sanity. 

"Ian!" 

"Brianna?  Is it really you?"

Without thinking
, she flew to the haven of his arms, seeking his protection.   He responded with affection, holding her close, stroking her hair.  Raising his voice in anger, he bade the guards to leave. 

"What are ye doing here?" There were several weeks before the wedding
. Why had she come so early? Dozens of thoughts raced through Ian’s mind. “Where is your father?”

             
"I came alone to..."  She raised her face to his, blushing furiously.  He'd never said he wanted to marry her.  Dare she tell him what she planned?  "I came to see yer uncle," she blurted.   "I...I canna go through wi' a wedding to a mon I've never seen.  I thought...ye."

With a thud
, the door behind them opened. "What is this?"  A deep rumbling voice boomed through the hall.  Standing in the doorway was a man Brianna took for the very devil.   Huge of girth, swarthy of skin, dark of hair and beard he looked ominous.

"This is Brianna of Clan MacQuarie
,” Ian said by way of introduction. “I fear she received a rude welcome from us."

"
Lachlan's daughter?"

"Aye."  Ian shook his head.
"I don't know what got into Perth, Uncle.  If we are now fearful of women and seek to hold them prisoner then I say ye go too far." Thrusting himself in front of Brianna, Ian guarded her protectively. "If we seek peace, then holding the MacQuarie's daughter seems a strange thing to do."

"Then what
Perth told me was the truth! This is Lachlan MacQuarie's daughter.  I thought he'd gone daft."  Pushing Ian aside he growled, "Let me take a good look at her."  He did, his squinting eyes scrutinizing her hotly. "She is reasonably fair.  Bonnie.  But then ye told me she was, Ian."  There was no warmth in his tone of voice.  Indeed, he sounded regretful, as if he'd hoped she'd be a hag, Brianna thought with surprise.

"It appears that
Perth forgot to show her any courtesy.  I believe we owe her an apology for such rough handling." Turning to Brianna Ian said, "You have mine."

"
Perth was merely carrying out my orders. A few of the serfs hae been showing disobedience, stealing cattle and sheep.  Reivers of a sort. I told him to capture any unfamiliar travelers."  Duncan Campbell barred his teeth in the semblance of a smile. "But then I don't believe this lassie looks to be very dangerous."

"You'd be surprised," Ian said beneath his breath.  Brianna could have
sworn she saw him wink at her. Somehow that gesture gave her hope. "She's very brave to come here all alone, I am thinking."

"I did
n't come here alone.  A fishermon came wi’ me. I ask is that ye set him free from yer dungeon."

"Done!"  Nodding his head
, Duncan gave the order, then turned to Brianna again.  "Now, I hae a request of ye.  That being that ye tell me just why ye hae come.  Are ye then so anxious to marry young Robbie that ye could no' wait?"

"To the contrary.  I came to bargain, to hae some say in my future."  Brianna put her hands upon her hips.  "I'll no' marry a mon I hae no' laid eyes on.  Not when I hae my mind on someone else."

Duncan growled like a wounded bear. "Ye'd break the contract?  Ye must be addled in yer wits, lass.  But then I should expect such from a MacQuarie," he roared.

"Break my word?  Nae.  I agreed to marry the
Campbell laddie and I will.  It's only that I want to take my choice.  It seems to be only fair. Ye sent a mon to woo me and he won my heart. I'm proposing that I take  the same lad to husband." It was a bold, brazen suggestion, but one prompted by her heart.

"Brianna!"  A surge of joy swept over Ian as he realized what she had said.  So he'd found favor with the lass after a
ll.  She did want him. Perhaps upon hearing the request on the lassie's lips, his uncle would reconsider his own request for such a happening.  He looked expectantly towards Duncan only to have his hopes pricked by the expression written on the black-bearded face.

"Never!"  He turned his anger on Ian.  "I sent ye to do yer duty to me and this is how I'm rewarded!  Betrayal.  Ye couldna wait to get the lass
ie in yer bed.  Ye young lusty dog!" Pouncing on Ian he grabbed his shirt with both fists.

Removing
Duncan’s hands from his shirt front, Ian held his ground. “Easy, uncle, I’ll not be manhandled.” He faced his uncle calmly. “In answer to yer question, nae.  I swear.  I never touched her, though I can not lie and say I didn't want to.  I've told you my feelings, Uncle.  I've spoken my mind."  Ian’s jaw tensed as he said,  "In truth you were playing with fire when you sent me to the MacQuarie Castle.  A man and woman have no control upon their hearts."

"Please......"  Brianna was horrified by
Duncan's anger.  What had she done?  "What difference does it make which of yer nephews I wed?"

"It makes a great deal of difference!" 
Duncan bit his lip to regain control, fearful lest he say more and give himself away.  "The bann has been signed, the agreement made. Ye will marry Robbie Campbell and no other, make no mistake about that!  Aye, and sooner than ye thought."  With an outraged oath Duncan Campbell vented his anger, overturning a chair.  "I'll hae no mere woman dictating to me, nor even my clansman.  My mind is made up."  He beckoned the guards forward.  "Until that time it is my desire to make Lachlan MacQuarie's daughter comfortable as my
guest
." 

Guest, Brianna thought.  By the blessed Saint Michael she'd just placed herself in the hands of a demented man,
and an enemy.  God help her, she'd made matters worse by coming here.  She was to be Duncan Campbell's prisoner and no one would even know. By her own lips she had  sworn Glenna to secrecy, had instigated a seemingly innocent masquerade for which she might very well pay dearly now.