Loyal to the Laird at Christmas

by Fiona MacEwen

  He was dressed in a fine red tunic and had had the audacity to place a sprig of white heather in his buttonhole.

  “Good evening, Isla. Ye are lookin’ particularly beautiful this evenin’ if I may say so,” he said, sidling up to her and Una with a smirk on his face.

  Isla sighed and turned away, just as several more guests entered the Great Hall. There was an air of excitement and expectation about the place, for the Christmas feast was always highly anticipated. Outside in the courtyard lay the yule log, cut from the forest and prepared for burning later that night. Darkness had fallen, and she stepped out of the castle gates, looking down the track towards her parent’s croft. She could see her father and mother ambling along and she ran to greet them, taking her mother’s arm and laying her head upon her shoulder.

  “Now, now, Isla, what’s wrong with ye? Should ye nae be helpin’ Una prepare for the feast, tis’ nearly time to begin,” her mother said, patting her arm.

  “Oh, Mother. I miss James. Daenae ye remember the feast last year and how happy we were? A year later and we are all of us sad,” she said, unable to rid herself of the sense of melancholy she felt.

  “Aye, I know, Isla. And if I could change things so that James was here now with ye then truly I would, but ye must allow yerself some happiness. There is a future ahead for ye, of that I am certain,” she said, as they made their way through the castle gates.

  Torches had been lit to mark the cay through the courtyard and the guests were now beginning to crowd into the Great Hall to take their places. Isla bid her mother goodbye and went to join Una, who was waiting for the Laird before the pipers could begin their tune and the feast begin.

  “Where is Blayne?” Isla asked, looking around for him.

  “Still in the library, he has nae moved all afternoon,” she replied in an exasperated tone.

  “I will go and get him,” Isla replied, hurrying off along the darkened corridors.

  She found Blayne as Una had suggested, still huddled in front of the fire with a book open to his nose. He jumped as she entered the library and looked surprised to see her.

  “Isla I …” he began.

  “The feast is about to begin. Come now, else ye shall be late,” she said, holding out her hand to him. “They are waitin’ and ye will dae yerself nay credit to stay here on Christmas Eve.”

  He sighed reluctantly and closed the book, standing up and making his way over to her with a sorry look upon his face.

  “A cruel fate,” he said. “Come then, let us make our way to destiny.”

  Together, they walked through the castle to where the noise and excitement could be heard coming from the Great Hall. Una was waiting for the piper and next to her stood Hamish and Robert, looking impatient.

  “Good of ye to join us, Laird,” Hamish said, sneering.

  “I am here, am I nae?” Blayne replied, taking his place in the procession.

  Una signaled to the piper, and they began to walk down the central aisle between the tables. Several hundred clansmen had gathered and there was a sense of eager anticipation in the air. The piper played his tune and Blayne led the others towards the high table.

  “Nay Laird,” one man hissed, shaking his head, whilst others shook their head.

  “Ignore them, Blayne,” Isla whispered, as they arrived at the high table and took their places.

  “Tis’ hard to when ye know that everyone here despises ye,” Blayne replied, as he raised his hands for silence and the piper ceased his playing.

  “Then stand as Laird and nae as a man who knows not what he is doing,” Isla whispered.

  “My friends, fellow Mackintosh’s,” Blayne began.

  “He is nae even a Mackintosh,” one woman could be heard to say, but Blayne ignored her and continued.

  “Tis’ my honor to welcome ye here tonight for the feast. Much has been spoken of about this grand celebration and later I understand we shall light the yule log and see in Christmas together. A happy Christmas to ye all and may God bless us all,” he said, sitting down immediately as a perfunctory round of applause arose below.

  “Well done,” Isla whispered, as the feast began.

  All manner of good things to eat were now brought in. There were salted meats and fish, breads and pastries, pies with game and mutton, dried fruits and honey cakes. The barrels of whisky and ale were tapped and soon the guests were merry. There was much carousing and reveling about the Great Hall but Blayne sat quietly eating his food, as Isla tried to make conversation.

  “The yule log is quite a sight. Dae ye have anythin’ similar in the lowlands? Some celebration of Christmas there too?” she said, turning to him.

  “Aye, they will be feastin’ now and usually I am invited to one of the tenant farms to eat. They roast a boar or some such and there are games and much merry makin’” he replied sadly.

  “And ye would rather be there than here?” she asked.

  He made no reply, as from below came a chorus of singing as the piper began to play again.

  “The yule log will soon be brought in,” Una said, and Isla nodded.

  She remembered the excitement she had felt when, as a child, she had seen it burnt for the first time. The clansmen lifting it onto their shoulders and heaving it into the fire where it crackled and burnt, sending flames whooshing up the chimney and out into the cold night beyond. As the feast drew on, she glanced occasionally at Blayne who made no attempt to engage anyone in conversation. He was a funny sort, she concluded. Though not without his charms. If only he would stand up to Hamish and the others, who sat openly mocking him at the far end of the table. Robert Craig was impersonating the Laird, hunched over his food with a miserable expression on his face, whilst the other laughed.

  “Tis’ time for the yule log now,” Hamish announced, standing up and raising his cup of ale.

  “Tis’ for the Laird to say when the yule log is burned, Hamish,” Una said, looking up from her plate and fixing her eyes on Hamish, who laughed.

  “The Laird wouldnae know when tis’ time for anythin’ without ye and Isla to tell him,” Hamish retorted, banging his cup on the table.

  “Hamish …” Una began, but he waved her off as the Great Hall fell silent.

  “My fellow clansmen. I am told that tis’ for the Laird to decide when the yule log is burned and to pronounce his blessin’ upon it. Well, I say that is fine and the Laird may dae so.”

  At this moment Robert Craig stood up, and a cheer went up from some clansmen, whilst others looked around in confusion. Blayne looked up in surprise, staring at Hamish who began to laugh.

  “What are ye doing, Hamish?” Una said.

  “I am doing what this clan requires of me and that is sendin’ this pretender on his way. The new Laird of the Mackintosh’s is Robert Craig. Rightful heir and master of this clan. Ye hear me, Blayne? It was a mistake bringin’ ye here in the first place and ye are nay longer welcome in our hall. Now, be gone and let the rightful Laird take yer place,” Hamish said, striding down the table and pulling Blayne’s chair back from him with such force that he nearly fell onto the floor.

  “I may have much to learn, Hamish Mackintosh, but I am Laird here. Ye know that,” Blayne said, standing defiantly before Hamish, who signaled to several of the guards to come forward.

  “Much to learn, much indeed,” Hamish replied. “Now, see to it that the Laird finds his way out of here and be sure never to return, ye hear me?”

  There was nothing Blayne could do, and he was man handled from the Great Hall, a cheer going up from some clansmen. Isla could only look on in horror at the scene unfolding before her eyes and as Hamish turned, she fixed him with a withering look.

  “Ye traitor, Hamish Mackintosh. A traitor to yer own clan,” she said.

  “Nae a traitor, lass. I have done what everyone else was too scared to dae and besides, I have found ye a husband, havenae I?” he said, pointing to Robert Craig who sneered at her and licked his lips.

  “If ye think I …”
Isla began, but Hamish raised his hand.

  “I know ye will—if ye remain here then ye must,” he said, laughing.

  But in a moment of madness, though of courage too, Isla looked down at her tunic where the sprig of white feather was attached. She knew that James would never stand for such terrible treatment of her and she stood up and turned to Una.

  “I am leaving with the Laird. I am sorry, but I cannae stay here and I will nae be forced to marry a man I daenae have any feelings for,” she said, as Una nodded.

  “Be careful lass, and come back to us one day, promise me?” Una said, tears welling in her eyes.

  Isla nodded and turning to Hamish she fixed him with a defiant gaze.

  “I am leaving, daenae try to stop me,” she said, and she ran down the length of tables in the Great Hall, pausing only to bid her mother and father farewell as uproar ensued.

  “Isla, dear Isla. She cannae leave,” one man said, shaking his head.

  “She was to be our mistress, the poor wee thing,” another woman said.

  “She’ll be back,” Hamish shouted, and the others sat on the high table laughed. “Ye cannae run from yer home forever, lass. And ye will soon discover that the Laird is nothin’ but a pathetic man and nay friend of yers. Yer place is here with us and ye shall realize it soon enough.”

  Isla ran from the Great Hall and out into the darkened corridor beyond. She was calling for Blayne and found him standing alone in the courtyard. The snow falling about him.

  “Blayne, wait,” she cried, as he turned to her in surprise.

  “Isla, what are ye doing here? Go back into the warmth, ye will catch yer chill, he said, as she threw her arms around him.

  “I am comin’ with ye, I daenae care where ye go but I am comin’ I cannae remain here a moment longer with these wicked folks,” she said, tears running down her face.

  “But … but what about yer parents and Una? Ye cannae just leave,” he said, taking hold of her.

  “I can and I must, please take me with ye. This castle holds such memories and if I stay the alternative is marriage to that man and I daenae wish that upon anyone. Let him be Laird, let him dae as he wished but daenae make me stay here,” she cried, holding tightly to him.

  “But … I must leave at once; the road ahead is treacherous. I must make for Edinburgh; I have friends there who will see me right. But tis’ nay road for a lass,” he said.

  “Ye forget that I am nay lass, Blayne Gordon. I was to be the wife of a highland Laird and tis’ I who taught ye to ride and I who know how to wield a sword and use it. I am nae afraid of any road ahead, of that I assure ye,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him towards the stables.

  He nodded and smiled weakly at her, as she took a deep breath and pointed to one of the horses.

  “Ye are right,” he said, “ye cannae stay here at the mercy of these people and ye are right too that I need ye, far more than ye need me on a journey like this. Though we must make haste now, else the newly proclaimed Laird may be inclined to see me run through, rather than ride off into the night. Quickly now.”

  They saddled the horse, wrapping cloaks around them which were hung in the stable. The night was freezing cold and there would be many hardships on the road to come. Blayne was about to mount the horse when Isla stayed his hand.

  “Dae ye nae think it would be better if I were to ride instead of ye, Blayne?” she said, smiling at him, despite the seriousness of the situation they now faced.

  “Aye, lass. There is nay shame in ye steerin’ the horse tonight,” he said, helping her up. “Now let us leave this place and nae look back.”

  Isla urged the horse out of the stables towards the castle gates, much to the surprise of the guards who called them to halt. But Isla was stopping for no one and she charged them down, causing them to scatter. There were shouts and cries behind them, but she urged the horse on through the gates and out into the night. The snow clouds had cleared, and the moon was bright and high on the most holy night. But it had been an unholy act that caused them to flee and Isla turned the horse towards the south and urged it on.

  Where they were going and how far they would travel neither of them knew. But each was certain that they must get far away from the castle of the Mackintosh’s. As Isla urged the horse onwards, she thought of James and how saddened he would be to think of Mackintosh men resorting to such treachery.

  “I will return,” she promised herself, “and I will see this right.”

  And so, on they rode into the darkness, knowing not what the future might hold.

  Chapter 7

  Southern Ways

  That night, Isla and Blayne rode for hours through the forest. Despite the cold and the snow, they made good progress and on Christmas morning they stopped at a croft belonging to distant neighbors. The peasants there were all too pleased to welcome them, for James Mackintosh had always been kind to those who lived on his borders. They were given refreshment and a place to lay their heads for a while, the old couple tutting as Isla recounted her story.

  “Tis’ a wickedness lass,” the man said, shaking his head. “We saw that young lad, this pretender ye speak of, ridin’ this way some days ago. He looked a nasty wee thing, his face was set in a smirk.”

  “Aye, that is him,” Isla said sadly. “And I fear that there will be little peace in the glen now.”

  “Then ye dae right to flee mistress and we are honored to have entertained the Laird on Christmas day,” the woman replied.

  Isla and Blayne spent the rest of the day with the peasants, enjoying a simple Christmas celebration. But each was keen to get as far away as possible and on the feast of Saint Stephen they rose early and bid their hosts farewell. Now they rode south, stopping each night at an inn or friendly croft. Blayne recalled the route they had taken when he and Hamish had ridden north from the Lowlands, and now he and Isla retraced his steps until they came in sight of Edinburgh.

  “Is that the capital there?” she asked, as at last they came in sight of the houses and churches of that fine city.

  “Aye, lass and we shall find a warm welcome there I believe,” he replied, smiling as she turned to him.

  “But where will we stay?” she said, for she gave little thought to any long-term plan, only to the need for immediate escape.

  “Ye are in my world now, lass. I have many friends in Edinburgh and we shall find the help we need. Come now, ride on that way,” he said, pointing towards the streets leading up towards the castle.

  Isla had never seen such a magnificent city in all her life. She had heard tales, of course, stories about the grandeur of such places. But she had lived her whole life in the Mackintosh glen and now Edinburgh seemed a place of such magnificence that it quite took her breath away.

  “Here we are, pull the horse up outside this house,” Blayne said, as they came to a halt before a handsome townhouse.

  It was as different from the draughty castle of the Mackintosh’s or her parent’s humble croft, as Isla could have imagined. An elegant flight of steps rose up to a solid oak door, leading into a house which was three stories high. It was surrounded by a neat garden and there were stables to the side from which servants and horses were coming and going.

  “Ye know the people here?” Isla asked, turning to Blayne who smiled.

  “Aye, lass. Tis’ the city home of my friend Robert Kerr, the Earl of Roxburghe,” Blayne said, dismounting and holding his hand up to Isla who smiled and took it.

  “Then I am glad to see it,” she replied, pulling her cloak about her.

  The journey had been hard. It had been ten days since they had fled from the Mackintosh castle and the snow had lain thick upon the ground all the way south. A cold wind was blowing through the streets and the people of that fine city were hurrying to and fro with little time for idle talk. But in the home of the Earl a warm welcome was given them.

  “My dear, Blayne. Whatever has happened to ye?” the Earl said, his softly spoken accent giving away his sout
hern credentials, when a few moments later they had been ushered inside.

  The servants were rushing about, fussing over Isla, who now realized just how cold and exhausted she was. She slumped by the fire and began to shiver, as one of the maids placed a blanket about her and another brought her a hot drink.

  “A treachery upon a grand scale, my friend,” Blayne said, shaking his head sadly.

  “Then ye must tell me more. I fear the northern clans are becomin’ more unruly by the day. Ye only arrived there a short while ago. What wickedness has forced ye to flee south and with the new year only just upon us?” the Earl said.

  Blayne recounted the story, whilst Isla shivered by the fire. At the end of the account the Earl shook his head and let out a low whistle.

  “A terrible business, terrible indeed. To think that a noble Laird could be so easily ousted from his hereditary right. We cannae stand for this,” he said.

  “I see nothin’ that can be done. The clan has made its decision and perhaps I was a poor Laird and unused to Highland ways,” Blayne replied.

  “Aye, but ye would have learned such things, and it seems ye have had a fine friend in this lass too,” the Earl said, turning to Isla.

  She gave him a weak smile and nodded.

  “Well, there is nay love lost between Hamish Mackintosh and I. He intended to marry me off to this Robert Craig, a wicked and ill-conceived thing, that is for sure,” Isla replied, shaking her head sadly.

  “I never met the previous Laird, but I heard many stories of him. He was a good and noble man and I am sorry for yer loss,” the Earl said, and Isla thanked him.

  “But now, may we impose upon your hospitality, my friend?” Blayne asked, for it was still a long journey to his southern estate and both were tired.

  “Ye may stay here as long as ye wish. I return to Roxburghe within the week for I am only in Edinburgh on some business a while. Make this place yer home, ye have always been a good friend to me, Blayne, and now tis’ time to repay the favor,” the Earl replied.

  And so it was settled. Isla and Blayne remained in Edinburgh at the home of the Earl and they were happy enough there, Isla particularly. She had never experienced life in the city and with newly purchased clothes and a fine home in which to live, she was every bit a lady about town. Blayne knew many of the nobility and merchants who passed through and the house was often filled with merriment and laughter as he entertained his friends. Isla too would join in and over the months that followed the two became ever closer.