By now they must assume that Clan Cameron had no intention of fighting for the return of Iona. This gave them time to plan.
The spies had returned with only the news that Iona was still alive and in the tower. Very little else had been confirmed, although it was said that Ewan Macintosh had delayed her execution for reasons unknown by all in the clan. Frustrations had been high at this decision, but the rumors remained unconfirmed.
“We will get her soon. My sister will be back with us and safe. Of this I am certain. We will not leave her there to rot any longer. In two weeks, we will mount, we will go, and we will return with Iona,” he said.
It took much planning to discover routes into the tower. There were not many ways they could go undetected and a full on assault seemed to be the best option since sneaking was unlikely.
Soon. Soon Iona would be home, and all would be well with Clan Cameron again. After that, Wallace would declare a war and capture all of the beautiful maidens of Clan Chattan for his own men. Everyone else would be executed. No mercy, no lives spared.
***
Getting the guard drunk proved to be more difficult than anticipated. After two evenings of trying, he refused any drink for fear of Ewan’s wrath.
“My Laird will not like to smell wine on my breath when I am guarding the prisoner,” he insisted.
“I merely feel for you, having to remain here so. But if you insist then I shall not continue to object. Please, take care and ensure she does not escape. My Laird will be unhappy should it happen,” Janet said, hoping to cover her true intention.
Both evenings upon returning to her room, her mother seemed irritated by her failure.
“You ought to go try and get him to drink. It is far more difficult than one would think, Mother. He is trying to keep Ewan happy, but it is making me miserable,” Janet pouted, sinking into a chair and crossing her arms.
“Are you not charming enough for him? How could he deny you?”
“For fear, Mother. For his position, for his head. He cannot be caught drunk and Ewan is in the tower so constantly that he would notice if the guard is drunk.”
“But if you go to the guard after Ewan’s visit –”
“There is no doing for it, Mother! Ewan stays for hours and at times he will even return again. Do you think I haven’t been trying?” Janet shouted.
“It has been only two nights. Leave it be this evening and try again tomorrow,” her mother suggested.
“No, it simply won’t work. There must be another way, and I will indeed find it.”
***
Iona and Ewan had not kissed since the first night, both of them feeling shy for their attraction. But with the book in her hands and the hours of reading and discussing, they finally fell silent with eyes locked on one another.
“I am easing my advisors into the idea of releasing you. I have spoken with one, a very close friend since childhood. He is still unhappy, but I know he will soon come to my aid with the others. I promise you, it will not be long,” he whispered softly, breaking the quiet.
“Ewan,” Iona began, tears welling in her eyes. “I want to be with you, I want to remain as yours, but I cannot do so as a prisoner. It must be my choice; I must be able to see my brother, my clan. It is agony to be so far, to be locked here during the days with only our evenings as my reprieve. I need you to convince them. Surely they will listen to you, you are a Laird.”
Her desperate pleadings caused his heart to ache.
“I will speak to them all in the morning. I will call a counsel. It may take days before they agree to have you released, but tomorrow, they will all know that it is my wish for you to be free,” he promised.
“Then I will trust you to do so. And I will trust that soon they will agree,” she said with determination, unsure if she meant the words.
Ewan held Iona’s hand in his. Her fingers were small and delicate in his hands that remained calloused from years of labor and life.
She brought her delicate fingers to Ewan’s cheek and drew his face in for a kiss. It was tender and sweet, their lips meeting once more. The familiarity of placement was immediate, as though their lips had found the only home in which they were meant to be.
Releasing one another, they remained a breath away, eyes locked and bodies still.
“I insist that you will be free from this tower, but I fear my heart will never be free from you,” Ewan declared.
“Nor mine from you. My heart belongs to you always,” Iona promised.
The rest of their time together was spent in generous giving of kisses and caresses. Ewan stroked Iona’s hair until she fell asleep on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating.
Morning came, and Ewan rallied his advisors to a counsel. They came early, some still groggy for the night before.
“And what is it now, sir? Are you ready to behead the girl or not?” asked Billy McKay.
Ewan inhaled deeply before proceeding. He had been practicing since Iona slept the night before. His nerves were shaking within him but he remained strong and focused.
“We will not behead, will not execute the girl,” he declared.
Murmurs of frustration and irritation filtered through the twelve men seated at the table in the counsel room.
“And why ever not?” demanded Aiden. He was still the only one who knew for certain of Ewan’s affections but he had promised not to tell the others. Nevertheless, his anger was released for all to see and hear.
“It was not her doing. I have spent time with the prisoner, and she is innocent. There is no need to punish her for the sins committed by the previous generation of her clan. We must release her; we must seek peace with Clan Cameron. It is the only doing. If we should not, the feud will continue until it is one of our women abducted. One of our wives or sisters or daughters who are taken captive and beheaded. Surely you must see that, that the feud will continue until none are left,” he reasoned with desperation.
“Then let their numbers dwindle before ours!” shouted Billy.
The other men roared in agreement. They had no wish to see Iona released, no wish to show her mercy.
“Please,” Ewan said softly, raising a hand to quiet them. “Take a day to consider. Tomorrow we will discuss again, and again the next day. Let us not rush into this. We must consider all consequences. Those of releasing her…and those of not,’ he finished with hesitancy.
The men glared and mumbled their reluctant agreement to do as they were instructed. Ewan had known that the counsel would not run smoothly, and his anticipations were correct. Nevertheless, he had been prepared and would remain so until the men finally agreed to have Iona released.
***
Janet did not go to the guard that evening, but she and her mother continued to discuss options should he refuse drink once more.
“What of water?” she asked her mother.
“Water will not get him drunk, fool,” her mother retorted condescendingly.
Janet paused for a moment and stared at her mother with an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, well, as I am neither a fool nor a child, you ought to listen to what it is that I have to say before responding with such indignation,” Janet replied.
Her mother waved a hand, ushering her daughter to continue.
She breathed in and said, “What I mean is that alcohol may cause the man to pass out, but water will lead him away from the stairs entirely.”
“I see…”
“Perhaps if I bring him an entire jug, I could wait until he leaves to relieve himself. It would be quick, but I believe I would have enough time. Even if I need to use one opportunity to tell her of the plan and another time to actually put the plan into action. I could go to her and whisper through the door that the next evening I would ensure her the opportunity for escape. I will tell her that it is because I am jealous that my betrothed seems to have fallen for her. I need not pretend it is to help her, she would never believe that. And then I could traipse away and wait until t
he next evening when the guard leaves again. It would be too suspicious for me to come back hours later, waiting and hoping as I bide my time,” she explained as the thoughts came to her.
“Yes, yes this could work indeed,” her mother agreed.
“So you approve?”
“I approve. Try once more with the wine tomorrow evening. If that does not work, then we try your plan,” Eleidh instructed.
“Yes Mother, yes I will.”
***
Janet and Ewan met for dinner early in the evening as had previously been their custom. He apologized for having been so distracted of late and said that he was preparing for the possibility of war with Clan Cameron.
Janet replied snidely that if he would send the prisoner back, perhaps it could be avoided. Or, if he had not so rashly abducted her in the first place, he would not be facing such immense troubles.
Ewan looked at the plate before him and anguish showed on his face.
“You are right,” he conceded.
“Am I, indeed?” she asked with arrogance.
Ewan sighed. “I should never have abducted her. We would all be better off for it had I not.”
“Well then, at least we remain agreed on that. Despite the distance that has come between us, we still think alike,” she smirked. Janet leaned forward, trying to put forth her greatest assets for Ewan’s eyes. He noticed, but his eyes did not linger.
Anger welled within Janet and she leaned back again, holding out her cup for more wine while keeping her eyes on Ewan’s downcast face.
“Have I lost my betrothed?” she asked bluntly. “Has my boy gone all away to the child he keeps in the tower?”
Her mocking angered him, yet he knew he was deserving of it.
“Yes, yes I believe he has. My boy has gone. And what a pitiful creature he has become.”
***
Later in the evening, Ewan told Iona of the discussions that had occurred at the counsel. He remained hopeful that he could change the minds and hearts of his men just as his own had been so radically transformed by her.
“There are moments in which I consider just bringing you before them, that they might see how you are deserving of no such fate. And yet, if I should do such a thing, I feel certain that one of the men might try to end your life,” he shuddered.
He said nothing of Janet and their dinner together. He had no desire for Iona to hear anything of the woman to whom he would one day be forced to marry lest by some miracle he should be able to remove her presence from him.
“And if your men end my life? If they determine not to release me as you have requested? What then? War with my brother? Loneliness for you? Death for me? Is this truly the life we are living?” she asked.
Ewan felt the weight of the day press upon his shoulders. She was right. This was the fate to which he had resigned them all.
Chapter Five
Dawn was approaching and Wallace had not yet managed to rest. Over the weeks, the sleepless nights of worry and fret for his sister had grown unbearable and his mental state had waned from angry to hopeless, with anxiety as an ever present friend.
Through days of strong speech, stoic bravery, and loud determination, he had finally given up the thought of ever seeing Iona again. He had finally broken.
Lying wide awake, he trained his eyes above where he rested, watching as light crept into the room.
The shadows moved and yet Wallace did not stir. Finally, a knock on his door prompted a grunt from deep within his gut.
“Sir,” the maid approached with caution. “The counsel is calling for you.”
Wallace noticed for the first time that day had fully dawned and he was uncertain of the hour. The memory came to him of his request they meet that day after breakfast, which meant that he must have missed it.
“I will be with them shortly,” came the emotionless reply.
“I will tell them for you, sir,” she answered quietly before silently exiting the room.
Slowly and achingly, Wallace bathed and dressed for the day. It had been a long time since he had had the energy or taken the time to clean himself. The process was lengthy and by the time he reached the counsel, they had clearly grown impatient.
“I am sorry for keeping you,” he mumbled, clearing his throat and making little effort to show remorse. The purple beneath his eyes left the group of men uncertain and concerned. Wallace’s weariness polluted the room.
“Now, what is it we are to discuss?” he asked the group.
The others made eye contact, their uncertainty rising further. The distinct scent of exhaustion was still clinging to Wallace’s freshly bathed body.
“Your sister, my Laird,” replied his chief advisor, Daniel. “We are here to discuss your sister. The plans for her rescue. We had made them but you wished to revise.”
“Ah yes, yes,” Wallace said, trailing off.
“Perhaps you should rest first?” inquired Alistair.
“I have rested,” he said shortly.
An awkward quiet remained as a few shifted uncomfortably. They did not know why Wallace had called them the day before to meet and it appeared he could not recall the reason either.
“What of your sister?” Daniel prompted.
“Yes, yes of course,” Wallace said again.
“Has the plan changed? Or do we still go as decided? When decided?” he asked.
Wallace inhaled. “The plan remains unchanged. Now let us get on with the day.”
In a grand gesture, he stood and swiftly left the meeting room, disappearing into the deep chambers of the castle.
The counsel stayed behind, mumbling to one another their concern about the strange behavior of Wallace. While in their previous meeting, he had shown such strength and determination, yet now he was clearly overwhelmed.
“I surmise it has been a long time coming. You cannae lose one you love so dearly and be unaffected. His eyes have deepened, he is getting no sleep. I can only assume he’s finally cracked,” Alistair had decided.
The other men agreed it was a sure explanation.
“Perhaps if we leave him longer to himself he will finally manage to get some rest.” Daniel added with sympathy.
“If we leave him to himself, he will only go more mad. I can’t imagine any of this is going to simply fade into a distant memory and we all know there’s no hope for ever seeing Iona again. I’m ashamed to say it, but I gave up long ago,” confessed the youngest of the men, Robert Gunn.
“We all gave up long ago,” retorted Alistair with irritation. “But she is his sister, and she is a part of our clan. No matter how unrealistic, no matter how certain we are that we will nay see her again, we’ve got to keep trying and we’ve got to pretend for the Chief. He’s our leader, our kinsman, our clan’s best chance of ever returning to what we were. Even though Iona will never return, we must never show him that we have all given up, too.”
The men nodded the truth of what was said. There was an intensity in the room that was left behind from their chief, and they knew not how else to move forward.
Meanwhile, Wallace returned to his chambers, removed his robe, and slid onto the bed, running a hand through fiery red hair and steeling himself against the anguish.
***
At the Clan Chattan counsel, Ewan continued to fend off anger from his own advisors who were still determined to see Iona put to death. He could have made a final decree, he could have declared her free despite what they said, but in his heart, he couldn’t let her go.
The guilt of the decision was overwhelming, but it was not enough to risk the loss of the woman he loved so. He recalled her hair and the feeling of running his fingers through the waves of copper and red and gold. He could not make a decree; he could not declare her freedom. Now she was his, but should he set her free, she might be gone forever.
“Why are we still having this discussion? It is getting old, sir. It is getting very old,” Billy bellowed. The men were all frustrated and furious about the constant stalli
ng of Iona’s beheading.
Ewan gave up and left them, choosing instead to go for a walk. He wished Iona could be with him, in the outdoors. He imagined the sun reflecting off her copper hair, and he imagined leaning her against a tree to kiss her softly. Even outside, wandering through the beautiful meadow into the woods, he could not get the beauty of her nature out of his mind. She consumed his thoughts in every moment, no matter the scene or circumstance.
“Iona,” he sighed, shaking his head, still desperately wondering why she had enraptured him so.
Ewan heard the cracking sound of feet on twigs. He turned swiftly, well aware of what the sound would have meant to Iona after his actions. Paranoia took hold, and his eyes darted in all directions.
For a moment, there was silence until his own voice broke it.
“Who goes there?” he called into the trees. The moment of silence held him on edge.
“It is Aiden, my Laird,” returned the voice. “You haven’t got any weapons, have you? I feared you might kill me if you saw movement. But it is only me.”
Ewan lowered the defensive posture of his arms and exhaled the breath he had been holding so tightly.
“I haven’t any weapons. But you are right. I’d have killed you anyway had I not known it was you,” he laughed. Ewan had a reputation for his strength and many had joked about his ability to kill a man by hand in an instant if he had wanted to. The theory had not yet been put to the test, but this could have been an opportunity to do so.
“I was sent for you, but I know you have no interest in returning, and I grow weary of the dispute. Perhaps we could walk a while longer before we return?” Aiden suggested.
Sighing with relief, Ewan shook the tension from his shoulders.
“You are still my man, then?” he asked Aiden.
“Laird, Chief, even King or even Peasant, no matter who you are or who you become, I will still remain your friend, Ewan. I do not understand this affection you feel for the enemy, I do not like it or agree with it, and I believe you are making a grievous mistake. However, you are my friend and will always remain so. It is friendship that leads me to concern for you and friendship that angers me when I see what you could lose as a result of this. But I will honor your decision. Even in the counsel, I will stand by your side,” Aiden committed. It seemed to trouble him to go against his conscience, but he was committed to Ewan.
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