When Fate Dictates (23 page)

“
You must go back to the village, Corran, and
there you will find your destiny.”

“
My destiny? How can it be that my destiny is
where my family and friends have just died? I don’t understand
Nansaidh.”

“
You don’t have to understand Corran; you just
have to go back.”

“
But if I go back to the village, what will you do
my friend? Where will you all go?”

“
We will be fine Corran. Dùghall will take us to
his family in Appin, we will be safe there.”

I wanted to argue with my friend, find a reason why I
should not go, why it would be better if I stayed with them and
traveled to Appin, but I knew in my heart that she was right.

Trembling and soaked with sweat, I awoke. The
room was dark, the night air warm. I looked around confused. Simon
was asleep, in the bed beside me.

“Simon, wake up, please?”

In an instant he sat bolt upright in bed, his
dirk in hand. “What, Corran, what is it?” he said, his voice urgent
and panicked.

“I don’t know Simon. I just don’t know.”

“What woman? What are you on about? Are they
back?” he shouted.

“No... No, Simon, I am sorry, it’s not the
Red Coats.”

He grunted loudly, “You damn stupid woman.
You scared me half to death.”

“I am sorry,” I repeated softly.

He reached across and lit the candle. “What
is it? You look dreadful. Are you ill?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I answered, still
trembling.

“Talk to me woman,” he barked, moving the
candle to in front of my face. “You look like you have seen a
ghost.”

“I... I feel like I have,” I whispered.

“What?” he said irritated.

“It was a dream, Simon, I had a dream. Like
the one I told you about last night. My friends were there again
and we helped each other, in the mountains, after the massacre.
They told me about Old MacIain. That he had been shot by the Red
Coats as he was getting out of his bed. That the Red Coats covered
his wife with his brains when they shot him in the head and bit off
her fingers to get her rings.”

The color in his face drained and his eyes
narrowed. “Tell me Corran, and tell me now, how did you know how
Old MacIain died?”

I shook my head frantically, not
understanding how I knew myself. “I just told you, Simon. I had a
dream and my friends... they told me.”

He turned from me and put the candle on the
table by the bed. Leaning across the bed he grabbed hold of my
shoulders.

“Don’t be clever with me Corran. Tell me the
truth woman or by God I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“Stop it Simon, you are frightening me,” I
said, tears welling in my eyes.

“Then you tell me how it is you have come to
know? There is only one man alive that could have told you that and
last time I saw him he shot me.”

I gawped in stunned silence as he stormed
from our room.

The matter was far from settled the following
morning.

Up before dawn, Simon left the house without
so much as a 'good morning'. I watched him through the kitchen
window in the fields with the men. There was not much to be
salvaged if truth be told. The soldiers had destroyed pretty much
everything they didn’t take. A few cattle and sheep had escaped,
but the hens and geese were all gone, the crops ruined and the
shelters and fences broken beyond repair. I doubted whether we
would ever recover.

That night we sat, again, in silence, the
only light being that from the moon which shone in a thin silver
line through the crack in the shutters.

I raised my hand to his arm, but he moved his
arm swiftly away. “Don’t be like this Simon, please?”

“Like what, Corran?”

“Distant and withdrawn from me, like I have
done something to hurt you.”

“How can you expect me to trust you?”

“Trust?” I asked in surprise. “I don’t
understand. Why would you not trust me?”

“Tell me Corran, how do you know so much
about the massacre? You told me in the glen that you had fled, that
you had died on the mountain and that all you knew was that your
grandmother had been killed and the village destroyed. How is it do
you now suddenly know what Angus did?”

“But I don’t know what your cousin did. I
only know what I saw in my dream.”

“Explain this to me, Corran? How did Angus
find me in York? Why did he try to kill only me and why did he let
you live?”

I stared at him, wide eyed. “I don’t know,
Simon, I had not thought about it. All I know is what I saw in my
dream.”

“Dream? Do you really expect me to believe
that you learned all that from a dream? Come on Corran, you must
think me very stupid.”

I shook my head madly. “No Simon, I don’t
think you are stupid and you don’t have to believe me if you don’t
want to. I can’t make you.”

“Swear,” he shouted. “Swear that you have
never met with my cousin on your own.”

“I swear, Simon... that I have never met with
your cousin through choice and never without your knowledge. I
don’t know anything of the man, apart from what you have told
me.”

I met his eyes. “Don’t hate me Simon, please?
I love you and I don’t know what you are thinking but I would never
hurt you.”

“I’ll tell you, Corran, you stay away from
Angus.”

Tears ran down my cheeks as I watched his
rage, my hands shook with the fear of what he was going to do. “How
can I make you see Simon? What do you want me to do?”

“Damn it woman, I don’t know myself,” he
said, getting out of bed and moving to the door.

“As God is my witness, Simon, I love you and
I swear that I had nothing to do with your cousin finding us.”

“I want to believe you Corran,” he said,
flinging the door open and leaving the room.

“Mamma?” I looked up to see Duncan standing
in the doorway of the room.

“Hello sweetheart,” I said, wiping
frantically at my tear-stained face.

“Mamma why is dadda so cross?”

“Don’t worry about it darling. dadda is just
tired; he will be alright in a while. Come and climb into dadda’s
bed, you can sleep here for a bit.”

Later that night, Simon returned to our room
and lifted the sleeping child back into his own cot. I was not
asleep and heard him move the child.

“Is Duncan alright?” I asked when he returned
to our room.

“Aye, he is fine.”

“I am sorry,” I said, choking back tears.

“No, Corran, it is I that am sorry,” he
whispered, kissing me lightly. I could smell the whisky, thick on
his breath and knew he was drunk.

“I love you, Simon.”

“I know,” he said, putting his arm around me.
“Can you forgive me for my foolishness?”

“Oh Simon, you are not foolish, but you have
to trust me, I love you more than life itself. I have done nothing
wrong.”

“I know,” he murmured, pulling me to him.

******

Ellem 1708

Thomas Fraser and Simon sat hunched, opposite
each other across the kitchen table, wearing equally grim
expressions.

“Can I get you both something to drink?” I
asked, making my way toward a jug of ale on top of the
sideboard.

Simon raised his head slightly. “Aye, Corran
that would be good.”

“What is wrong?” I asked, passing him the jug
and two mugs. He nodded his thanks, taking them from me.

“James Stuart has tried to land in Fife,” he
said.

“James Stuart?” I said, with shock. “What is
he doing back here? I thought his father had fled to France. He
wants to hope the English don’t get word of it.”

Simon scowled. “They have had word of it
Corran. He has gone back to France.”

“Oh, well that’s fine then,” I said,
shrugging.

“No, Corran, that isn’t fine. He could have
put an end to this damn union, but now we are back to where we
started.”

I shook my head. “He can’t come back here,
Simon and you know it.”

“He could have done it with the backing of
France,” Simon said, holding a filled mug of ale up to his friend.
“Isn’t that right Thomas?”

“Aye, my friend, that he could, but sadly I
don’t think he will try again anytime soon.”

“There is nothing we can do to change it,
Thomas,” I said quietly.

“Aye, Corran you are right. We cannot change
what has happened.”

“But we could have tried, if we had known he
was coming,” said Simon solemnly.

I frowned at him. “We have enough trouble
here Simon; we don’t need to get involved in this fight. Let it be,
please?”

“Don’t worry, Corran, there is nothing to be
done now. The British forces saw the French fleet off and James is
now safely home in France. As I said, you are right, we can’t
change it now.”

“How is Miriam?” I said changing the subject
and turning my attention back to our friend. “I haven’t seen her in
a few days.”

“She is well, thank you.”

“How is Shannon? She had a bit of a fight
with Duncan yesterday. I think it was as much one as the other.
Duncan picked her a flower to apologize for the fight but she
refused it.”

“Aye, she can be a bit of a handful can our
Shannon. Tell the wee lad not to worry about it.”

I smiled, recalling his face when the girl
had shouted, ‘You Duncan Lamont can go to hell if you think a
flower will make up for pulling my hair.’

“Anyway, Thomas, I must get back to some
work. Please do tell Miriam I was asking after her; I will try and
pop in later in the week to see her.”

Opening the front door, I had hoped to find
Duncan playing in the stream that ran down the side of our house,
but he was not there. “Duncan!” I called, hoping that I was not
going to have to put my boots on and tramp halfway around the farm
looking for him. The sun was setting and it was time the boy was
indoors, but I assumed he was probably up a tree or stalking a
foolish pheasant with Eilidh and Shannon.

“Mrs. Lamont... Mrs. Lamont... please come
quickly? It’s... it’s... Duncan,” cried the little girl, fighting
for breath. I turned and, in a flash, saw the panic on the child’s
face.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, I dropped to
meet her face. “Shh, slow down Eilidh. What’s happened?”

“It’s Duncan, Mrs. Lamont. Shannon has pushed
him out of a tree and he can’t move.”

Rising, I swung around and started running
through the house. “Stay here and wait for me Eilidh,” I said,
screaming for Simon as I did.

He came running out of his office, in time to
meet me in the hall. “What is the matter, Corran?”

“It’s Duncan, there has been an accident,” I
stammered.

“Where is he?” he demanded, pulling on his
boots.

“I don’t know, Eilidh is here, she knows
where he is.”

We found him, alone, lying on the ground,
underneath an ancient oak tree. I dropped to the floor beside him,
gently lifting his head to rest it on my lap.

“Duncan, wake up, it’s mamma, please darling,
wake up?” I begged him.

Simon knelt beside me, gently resting his
hand on his son’s neck. “It’s alright, Corran, he has just knocked
himself out. He will come round in a bit.”

“How can you be so sure? Just look at him,
Simon. He isn’t moving,” I said quietly, terror ripping at my
heart.

“What happened, Eilidh?” Simon asked, turning
to face the tear-streaked face of the little girl.

“I am not sure Mr. Simon,” she said.

“I think you do know, lass, but I think you
just don’t want to tell me.”

Her eyes stared wide at him and her little
hands shook with fear. “It wasn’t me, Mr. Simon, I didn’t do
it.”

“I know you didn’t do it Eilidh. I just want
to know what happened. Show me how far up in the tree he was when
he fell and did he fall on his head or his back?”

“Simon, he’s moving,” I cried, as Duncan
slowly lifted his eyelids.

“Hello lad,” his father said. “Can you tell
me how many fingers I am holding up?”

Duncan blinked and a small smile creased the
side of his mouth. “Hello pa,” he whispered weakly. “I think you
have two fingers in front of my face.”

“Oh Duncan, you gave us such a fright. What
on earth happened?” I cried.

“I don’t know really ma, I can’t recall
exactly. I think I was in the tree with Shannon and Eilidh.”

I turned my head to scan the field. “Where is
Shannon?” I said to Eilidh.

The little girl shook her head. “I don’t know
Mrs. Lamont. I told her to wait here with Duncan whilst I came to
fetch you. She must have gone home.”

Never mind about the girl now, let’s just get
Duncan home,” Simon said, lifting our son from the ground. “You ok,
lad?” he asked.

“Aye, pa, I have a bit of a sore head but I
expect I will be alright.”

Simon smiled down at the boy in his arms. “I
expect you will my lad but I think you might want to give climbing
trees a miss for a while.”

******

Ellem 1712

Duncan grew from little boy to young man, and
very soon became the hand at his father’s side. I adored our son
but as the years drew on, the longing for a daughter tore at my
heart. There were plenty of women on the farm. Wives, daughters,
sisters of the men who worked for Simon, but no friend could ever
fill the role of a daughter.

“Have you ever wondered why we have never had
a child of our own?” I asked Simon one evening after Duncan had
gone up to bed.

“No, not really. We have the lad and although
he isn’t ours in blood, he is ours to love and look after.”

I turned slightly toward the light of the
candle as I ran the thread of the cotton through the eye of the
needle.

“Aye, and I do love him, but that doesn’t
stop me wondering what it would be like to have a child of our
own.”