A Time of Madness

by Marti Talbott

“You have warned us and we will not forget, MacGreagors.” The four Kennedys watched the MacGreagors disappear back into the forest.

  BLARE LED THE OTHERS back, burst into the small clearing, and started to mount his horse before he realized his different attire startled the women and children. He quickly slid back down, pulled his wife into his arms, and kissed her passionately. “Does a Kennedy kiss like that?”

  Jennet pulled back and put one hands on her hips. “Are you suggesting I find out?”

  Blare rolled his eyes, kissed her once more, and then lifted her up on her horse. “I’ve a good feeling about our future, wife. Happiness is ours for the taking.”

  Blare’s words seemed to lift everyone’s spirits even though they were still worried the Davidsons would find them. Everyone understood when Keter did not return to the path and instead led them through the thick and often forbidding forest. Their clothing caught on bushes and scratched their legs, but not badly enough to cause any serious damage.

  NEASAN AWOKE LATE IN the morning and it took a moment for him to realize he was in Justin’s bed on the third floor of the Keep. How he got there, he could not be sure and at first, it unnerved him enough to make him quickly stand up. Then he remembered it was, after all, his bed now. Just as quickly, he reached up and held his pounding head with both hands. This was his first full day as laird and it did not appear to be starting out well. Too much wine the night before gave him a headache and his men had not come to tell him Paisley was found.

  Furthermore, when he went downstairs none of his men were there and the women had not brought his morning meal. Was he always to be plagued with disobedience? He walked to the front door of the Keep, opened it, and stepped outside. The sun was too bright, the courtyard was as empty as his great hall and it served to further enrage him. “Where are you?” he bellowed, quickly grabbing his aching head again.

  Leaning against the wall of the Keep just as he had the evening before, Bearcha puffed his cheeks. “They are not yet awake.”

  Neasan turned his glare on Bearcha. “You are awake enough.”

  “I have not slept. You sent me to tell the lads to search Sawney’s belongings and I have only just returned.”

  “You told them?”

  “As you commanded.”

  Neasan finally lowered his voice. “Have they found the MacGreagors?”

  “Not yet. They were forced to stop for the night.”

  “They will find them soon. With lasses and children, Sawney cannot travel fast and my lads are not likewise encumbered.” Neasan took a couple of steps across the courtyard, stopped, and turned to face Bearcha again. “Why is there no morning meal prepared for me?”

  “Tell me who you commanded and I will see what has caused the delay.”

  He wrinkled his brow and shifted his eyes from side to side. “I do not recall.”

  “Perhaps in the future, you might make those arrangements before you...” Bearcha hesitated.

  “Before I what?”

  “Before you attend the feast.” He waited to see just how upset Neasan was going to get before he went on. With no sleep, he did not want to have to fight him and was relieved when the man seemed calm. “Laird Davidson, you are in need of wise counsel.”

  At the mention of his new title, Neasan brightened right up. “I choose you!”

  “Me, but I am not worthy.”

  “I say you are worthy.”

  “And if I decline?”

  “Why would you decline? ‘Tis a position of honor.”

  “I am a hunter and you would keep me from it.”

  Neasan thought about that. In one regard, he did not appreciate being turned down, but on the other hand, he had yet to meet anyone as honest and forthright as Bearcha. The man did not fear him and there was something very appealing in that. “I say you will advise me, like it or not.”

  Bearcha slightly nodded, walked away to see about a morning meal for his laird and left Neasan standing alone in the courtyard.

  Neasan watched him go, went back inside the great hall, sat down at the head of the long table, and waited. Being laird appeared to be a bit more complicated than he imagined, but he had no doubt he could manage. It did not help that he slept half the day away and he vowed not to let that happen again.

  To fight his pounding head, he poured himself a goblet of wine, drank half and then used the side of his arm to clear the used goblets off his end of the table, sending them crashing to the floor.

  Soon, Bearcha returned with a bowl of hot oats, milk, and butter, placed it before him and then took a seat a few chairs down from the head of the table.

  Neasan quickly consumed the meal, allowing milk and oats to dribble down his beard and onto his shirt without his notice. When he was finished, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, belched twice, and moved the bowl away. “How many are we?”

  Bearcha frowned. “I have never counted. Shall I do it now?”

  “Aye and give the count before the day’s end.”

  “Will you call them to the courtyard so I can count them? ‘Tis what Justin...”

  The fury in Neasan’s eyes was unmistakable. “Never say that name in my presence again, do you hear me?”

  Bearcha slowly nodded and wondered just what he’d gotten into.

  Outside in the courtyard, a man gave the whistle signaling arrivals. Expecting his men to bring Paisley back, Neasan quickly got to his feet and rushed to the door, but before he could open it, two Swinton warriors burst in.

  “You dare come in here?” demanded Neasan.

  Not knowing what to say, both of them ignored the question. “We have come to pay our respects to Laird MacGreagor,” said one.

  “He is dead.”

  “Aye, we know, that is why we came. Perhaps you might tell us where to find the new laird.”

  “I am the new laird and we have changed our name to Davidson.”

  The second man’s eyebrows shot up and then he glanced around the room. “We mean to see Sawney. He is...”

  “Sawney is dead,” said Neasan.

  The Swinton warriors exchanged astonished looks. “We had not heard that. We are saddened...”

  “Be gone with you,” Neasan shouted, turning his back and returning to the table. “I have much to do and you annoy me.”

  It didn’t take long for the Swintons to leave the room, mount their horses, and ride back down the glen. Neasan watched them go, slammed the door, and turned his glare on Bearcha. “Have you something more to say?”

  Slowly, Bearcha stood up, moved the chair away and turned to face his laird. “Nay, I will count the people after I have slept.”

  “After?”

  “Aye, after.” He did not bow and did not ask permission to leave. Bearcha simply walked out the door.

  CHAPTER VI

  FOR HALF A DAY, THE MacGreagors rode up one hill, down another and stayed off the beaten paths. The fear of being hunted weighed heavy on all their minds. They stopped twice to rest the horses and see to their comfort, and then did not stop again until Keter found another clearing and a stream where they could refresh their water flasks.

  Sawney looked for him, but the black stallion did not catch up. At least he had his best friend, Paisley, with him and that brightened his mood.

  Careful to keep her voice low, Paisley took hold of Sawney’s hand. “I wish we could walk the stiffness out.”

  “‘Tis not safe enough yet.”

  “I know, but promise you will take me when it is. The people, your people now, wish a little privacy and I wish to enjoy the love of a good brother...even one who wears the colors of a Kennedy.”

  Sawney smiled. “I tell you true, sister, if ever I find a lass like you, I will marry her with all due haste.”

  “Not too quickly, I pray. A hasty decision is not always best, I have learned.”

  “I am your laird now, I will choose your new husband and you must obey me.”

  “Not true, I am an elder and the MacGreagors do not command elder
s.”

  “An elder by only...” Sawney looked around and his eyes widened. “I am surrounded by elders? Nearly all of you are older than me.”

  She grinned. “I am pleased you noticed.”

  “Do you mean I am laird over little?”

  “Well, there are always the wee ones who know no better.”

  “I am relieved.” He kissed his sister on the forehead and then nodded to Keter. “The sooner we get on with it the sooner we can take a day of rest.”

  The women tried not to groan and the children were being as good as tired children could be when they were lifted back up on the horses.

  Keter was wise and Sawney was pleased with the way he led the clan farther from the danger. Sawney often looked back to see to the well-being of the women and children, as any good laird should. Sometimes the littlest child was with Paisley and other times asleep on Jennet’s or Gavina’s shoulder. The weight of a sleeping child was a lot to ask of a woman riding a horse hour after hour, but it could not be helped. The men needed their hands free to protect them.

  THE FOUR KENNEDY WARRIORS, wearing green MacGreagor colors, hurried to return home and tell their laird all they had heard. Known to most as thieves, the Kennedys once boldly took livestock from other clans, but it cost them greatly in a war with the Swintons many years before. Having learned their lesson, they took to stealing smaller things such as weapons, milk stools, shoes, and even kilts when they could get them. Stealing kilts made it possible to spy on another clan without being noticed and facilitated their favorite pass time, which was stealing without getting caught and bragging about it.

  They and their neighbors suffered losses when the fever came just as the MacGreagors did, and all of them decreased in size that summer. Therefore, the Kennedys had no real need to steal. Just the same, a new reason to do just that brought them great joy.

  When Laird Kennedy heard the MacGreagors would come back to fight for their land someday, he smiled. “And we will help them. For now, we will put our skills to best use against these Davidsons.” He paused to spit on the ground, a show of complete disgust. Then he turned to his second in command. “See that our lads steal all the weapons they can and set extra lads to spy on them. We must know when they think to attack. And send word to the Swinton, the Haldane, the Graham and the MacDuff. None are safe this day.”

  The Kennedys made ready to sneak in and out of the Davidson hold to steal what they could, the spies were sent to watch their every move and each time the name “Davidson” was uttered, they spat on the ground.

  Before the day was done, Kennedy riders spread the word to the other clans, who also sent men to spy on the Davidsons. Yet it was the Haldane who worried most. Their land bordered that of the Davidsons, they were the smallest clan and knew they would be the easiest to conquer. To prepare, they took all but their bare necessities into the woods and hid them.

  Then a new rumor began, one that would tear at the hearts of all the clans. Swinton warriors said they heard Sawney was dead. If it was true, it meant the MacGreagors would not be coming back to fight and the other clans had to deal with Neasan themselves.

  FOR AS LONG AS THEY could that night, the six men Neasan sent to bring Paisley back followed the MacGreagor tracks until darkness made it too difficult. At first light, they took up the search once more and when they reached the river and crossed, they could not find enough fresh tracks on the other side to indicate several riders.

  William led his men back across to the path beside the river, got down and examined it. Still there were not enough tracks and for a moment he wondered if they’d walked their horses in and let the water carry them downriver. That would have been dangerous, but not unheard of if people were desperate enough.

  William thought it was a fool’s errand Neasan sent them on anyway. He saw no woman with white hair and he’d watched every move the MacGreagors made before they left. Even so, the only decision left was to take the path along the riverbank going east or west.

  He thought to split his men up, but three against the MacGreagors had no chance, so it was best they stayed together. He shrugged and turned his horse east up the path along the river.

  It was not long before he found new tracks that appeared to come out of the river, and he was certain he had found the MacGreagors. He encouraged his men to go faster, but when they reached the place where the paths crossed, they found three MacDuff warriors in the way that quickly threw down their swords and surrendered.

  The MacDuffs were well known for avoiding a fight at all costs and the other clans normally just let them be. It was better than capturing lazy people and then having to provide for them. Whether they were truly lazy or not, no one was quite certain and few cared to find out. Rumors were enough to make most people think they were.

  “Do you know Sawney MacGreagor?” William asked. Two nodded and one shook his head. “Have you seen them today?” To that question, all three nodded, but when William asked which way they went, each pointed a different direction.

  William took an exasperated breath, hopped down off his horse, and studied the tracks on each of the paths. The path leading north and south had very few, while the one going east had many. He got back on his horse, waited for the MacDuff to get out of his way, and then waved his men forward.

  It was long after time for their noon meal by the time they caught up with those leaving the tracks. Instead of MacGreagors, the people were from a clan who had gone to barter for goods with the Grahams.

  Disgusted, William turned his men around. They were tired and the horses needed rest, so he found a small clearing just off the path where they could rest.

  MACKINZIE HAD AN ODD sort of happiness in her heart. It was as though something marvelous was about to occur—something just around the bend, across the meadow or on the hilltop overlooking the ocean she loved so much. When she went to fetch the basket of wash from elder Tavan, she actually smiled.

  “Are you unwell,” he asked. Crippled since the age of nineteen when a horse threw him, Tavan used an ornately carved tree branch for a cane and often asked for Mackinzie’s washing services. She once called him an ‘old scunner,’ but he paid her no mind. He could not name one single person she hadn’t called that at one time or another.

  Still standing in the doorway of his cottage, Mackinzie wrinkled her brow. “Do I look unwell?”

  “Not at all, it is just that you smile so seldom, I thought...”

  She leaned down and picked up his basket of clothing. “Tavan, do you believe people can feel good things coming?”

  “Well now, let me see. Aye, I do believe...” Before he could get all his words out, Mackinzie turned and walked away. It was quite possibly the longest conversation anyone in the clan had had with her in months. Tavan put his cane on the table and sat down in his chair. His cottage was larger than most and once belonged to the Campbell laird and his wife. That was before the King of Scots came and built a castle by the sea.

  Now the overly large and lavish castle cast its morning shadow right across Tavan’s cottage and most were happy not to live in it, even if it afforded more space. Two wives and seven children ago, he thought to ask Laird Campbell for a different abode, but the subject just never seemed to come up. Now his children were grown and at the old age of 56, his hands hurt too much to make fancy woodcarvings the way he once did. On most days, he simply sat by the river and watched the water flow to the sea.

  It was out of concern he’d taken a special interest in Mackinzie. He could do his own wash, but his children provided for him well and he could easily give her anything she needed. Yet Mackinzie was far too proud to accept charity.

  Tavan suspected she liked him too, although she never said so. When she was not yet eleven, she came to ask about the death of her parents, a question she might well have asked anyone. Just the same, she asked him and he was honored she trusted him to tell her the truth.

  Mackinzie always had a look about her, a look of mischief that made people won
der what she was up to, but Tavan was wise enough to see beyond that. Inside was a hurting little girl no one knew how to help. That day, she seemed satisfied with the answers he gave concerning her parents, and was just as quickly gone again. Nevertheless, if anyone could have a special connection with Mackinzie, it was Tavan.

  He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “That one needs a husband and at least twenty children to love!”

  ONCE THEY WERE BACK to the place where the north and south paths crossed those leading east and west, William halted his men and scratched his head. It was the very place Keter took the MacGreagors into the forest, but William was looking for tracks, not broken branches or trampled foliage.

  William knew that crossing the river could be accomplished in several places, although not as safely or conveniently as the first, and going north seemed the most likely direction the MacGreagors would go. On the other hand, South to the MacDuff or east toward other clans was just as likely. In the end, William only had one choice—go back and find the place where the MacGreagors left the path.

  THEY WERE ALL EXHAUSTED, yet Keter urged the small band of wanderers on, hoping to put more distance between them and the Davidsons. They had enough daylight left to travel another two hours but the children were fussing, the women shed more tears and even the horses began to balk at the prospect of having to wade up yet another creek.

  Sawney finally said, “‘Tis enough,” and Keter stopped in the next parcel of flat land he found.

  They ate the last of their fresh bread and cheese, put the small children to bed, and gathered to talk over what they would do next. It felt good to stand up, yet even the eyes of the adults drooped, and their minds were cluttered with random thoughts.

  All the women had stiff muscles plus headaches from crying, and were content just to move around a little and let the men talk. Of the seven children, four were nearly grown and they were more interested in standing nearby listening.