“‘Tis only a meetin’. Perhaps she has some news on why her father has forbidden us from seein’ one another, perhaps some words to impart. I dinnae know, Duncan, but I shall go and find out,” he replied.
“Show me the note,” Duncan said, “let me see what she wrote.”
“Nae, ‘tis private. I dinnae ask what words yer prayers to God contain, so dinnae ask what words she wrote me,” Fraser replied. “Anyway, ‘tis time I was going now,” and he wiped his hands down his apron and doused the fire with water.
“Give her my greetin’, if ye are nae too busy wrapped in each other’s arms,” Duncan said, as Fraser wrapped his tunic around himself and prepared to leave.
“Dinnae wait for me before ye have yer dinner, Duncan,” Fraser said, ignoring the smirk upon his brother’s face.
“Oh, I shall be waitin’ up for ye, Fraser. I won’t sleep until I hear every detail,” Duncan replied, following his brother out of the workshop, his jeers continuing as Duncan made his way along the track from the village.
‘‘Tis only a meetin’. What harm can it dae?” he thought to himself, and he pulled out the note from his pocket.
“I gave thought of ye a great deal,” he read, and with a smile on his face, he set off for the appointed meeting place, excited at the prospect of seeing Isla again and knowing her better.
Chapter Twenty-One
That evening, Isla made an excuse to absent herself from Kirklinton. An old cousin of hers lived some miles across the marshes, and occasionally she would visit her. It was a reasonable excuse that evening, and one which her father was not suspicious of, for the home of the cousin lay further back into Scotland, and she would be nowhere near the border with England.
“Take care though, lass, and dinnae be late back, ye hear me?” he said, but his attentions were on higher matters, and he had paid her little concern all day.
It had been reported to him that the English were amassing at the castle of the Musgraves and that a considerable host was about to cross the border into Scotland. Alistair was worried, for he knew that if an invasion came soon, there would be little hope of defending Kirklinton. His only chance lay in the messages he had sent out to the other chieftains along the border.
If the forces of the border clans could be gathered, then there was every hope of defeating an English attack. The Scots were hardy folk, and they had faced such dangers many times before. Sir Percy Musgrave would meet his match, of that the Laird was certain.
“I am only going to cousin Eleanor’s,” Isla said, wrapping a shawl around her, “I will be quite safe. I know the way across the marshes like the back of my hand, and I promise I will not be late,” she kissed her father, and hurried out into the gathering evening, lest he should change his mind.
“So, that is what yer little note said,” Sweeney said, startling her as she left the stable yard.
“Tis nae concern of yers, is it?” she replied. “What ye dinnae know cannae hurt ye, Sweeney, and besides, ye are sneakin’ off yerself. I can smell the whiskey on ye.”
Sweeney just smiled, and she crossed the stable yard and made for the track towards the village, being careful to turn off at the right spot across the marshes, lest her father be watching her. But when she came to a dip leading down to a stream below, she ducked down below the skyline and hurried back towards the track, remerging far down where the trees at the top of the valley began, and she could see Lochrutton in the twilight below.
The path above the village was the same one she had ridden along on that fateful day when she had followed her father on his raiding party. Now, she made her way along it on foot, glancing around her nervously, lest anyone else be following her. But all was quiet, and as she arrived at the fork in the road, one way leading north to Scotland and the other south to England, she paused and looked around for Fraser, who was nowhere to be seen.
“‘Tis early yet,” she said to herself and settled down just off the path to wait, careful to position herself so that no one would see her.
It must have been an hour or so before she heard footsteps approaching and glancing round from her hiding place, she could see a figure coming along the track. It was hard to tell if it was Fraser or not, and she strained her eyes through the gloom as the figure approached.
As he came closer, she could see that it was the blacksmith, and he was humming a little tune, snatches of a ditty which she had never heard before. She stood up and came out upon the path just as he turned, a smile on his face as she peered at him through the gathering dusk.
“I didnae know if ye would come or not,” she said, smiling at him as he came to stand in front of her.
“Well, ‘tis nae often I receive a note from the Laird’s daughter speakin’ of a secret assignation,” he replied, laughing.
“My father would have forbidden me from comin’ to see ye again, and Sweeney wouldnae allow me to collect the horse, but he was good enough to take the note. I am just glad to see ye,” she said, and the two stood in silence for a moment.
“I … I am glad he did so,” Fraser said.
“Aye, me too,” she replied, the awkwardness of the situation plain to them both, “we … we should get off the path, come this way,” and she took his hand.
A dell of trees lay in the center of the fork, a dense thicket into which she now led him. Her clothes caught on the brambles, and her gown ripped as they made their way deeper into the thicket.
“‘Tis a fine place to meet,” he said, laughing, as the two went further into the trees.
“We can talk here,” she said, after several moments of scrambling through the undergrowth, and she turned and smiled at him, the moonlight barely penetrating the canopy above.
“Why such secrecy?” he asked.
“Because I still dinnae know why my father has forbidden me from seein’ ye. It makes me all the more determined to dae so, of course,” she replied.
“I can only think that it is my reputation for healin’ or the birthmark on my hand. Folks around these parts are superstitious like I said, and some wish nothin’ to dae with me for the simple reason of my ways,” he replied.
“But that is nonsense. Ye are a delightful person, and I have found nothin’ but happiness in yer company,” she replied, taking his hand.
“Well, ye are kind, and I am grateful to ye for that,” he said, “but the blacksmith and the Laird’s daughter shouldnae be meetin’ like this.”
“I shall meet with whomsoever I wish,” she replied, and the two settled themselves down on the ground and had a pleasant time talking.
Isla told Fraser of her life in the castle and of what she remembered of her childhood. She was only six when the Musgrave’s killed her parents, old enough to remember them but young enough to soon have adapted to her new life with the Elliotts. He, in turn, spoke of his own parents and the happy childhood which he and his brother had enjoyed.
“The two of ye look very different though,” she said, as he finished his tale.
“Aye, but we are alike in many ways. We each favor our solitude, and we are both thinkers, though Duncan is the one with the brains,” Fraser replied, laughing.
“One must have some brains to shod a horse and mold a sword into shape,” she said.
“Aye, perhaps. I have the practical hands, which I inherited that from my father,” he said.
“Can I show ye somethin’?” she asked, taking him by the hand and leading him from the thicket and back onto the path.
The moon was high now, the stars glittering above, and together, they walked across the track and onto the heathers beyond. From there, they could see across to the castle at Kirklinton, a dim light coming from the upper window where her father was no doubt huddled close to the fire. The sky was like a vast tapestry, endlessly above them, like a vast cloak covering the earth. From there, they could see across to England and far into Scotland beyond.
“I often walk up here. ‘Tis beautiful, and I love to stand and look out across the heathers t
o the hills. In the moonlight ‘tis just as lovely as in the day,” she said, and she rested her head upon his shoulder, for it felt a quite natural thing to do.
He startled a little but made no move to prevent her, and the two of them stood together in silence, looking out across the landscape. A place of such beauty and yet such conflict too. Isla could not help but feel a connection to him, as though something more than the past days bound them together.
At first, he had held no interest for her, the simple blacksmith engaged to shoe the horse’s hooves. But her father’s sentiments against him had aroused her curiosity, and the more time she spent with him, the more she delighted in him. What were these bonds which now brought them together, and why did she feel such a depth of feeling towards a man she hardly knew?
As her head rested upon his shoulder, she felt an overwhelming desire for something more, and she turned to him, taking his hand and looking up into his eyes. He smiled at her, unsure of what to do, and she took both his hands and reached up as though to kiss him.
But at that moment, there came the sound of horse’s hooves clattering along the track, and Fraser pulled her down behind some rocks close to where they were standing. Tentatively they looked out to see the approaching horsemen. They were some distance off, the sound of the horse’s hooves echoing through the stillness of the night, but as they came closer, Isla could see that they were English soldiers, a party of eight, riding straight across the border.
“English,” she hissed, as the horses came closer.
They were riding at some pace, and as they came to the fork in the track, they paused, the lead soldier raising his hand for them to stop. Isla pressed herself close to Fraser, and the two cowered behind the rocks, watching through a small gap as the English soldiers dismounted.
“Which way is it now?” one of them said, glancing around him.
“The village at Lochrutton is down below; you can see the waters from here and across yonder is Kirklinton, home of the Elliott’s,” the leader said, pointing towards the castle.
“And Sir Percy thinks that is where any attack may come from?” another said.
“That’s right, the Laird is known as a warmonger, a violent and dangerous man. The sooner he is strung up on Sir Percy’s battlements, the better,” the leader replied. “Now, it is along this track that the force will come, and I suggest we tell Sir Percy that an attack across the marshes would be ill-advised. Under cover of darkness, the way will be treacherous, and we should face little opposition upon the road; these Scots will not know what has hit them,” and he laughed, as did the others.
“Soon, there shall be no borderlands to speak of, only England and the king’s lands,” one of them said, and the others cheered.
“Come now, we have seen what is necessary. I do not wish to linger across the border, but clearly these Scots have no defense against us. Very soon, all this shall be ours, and the English flag shall fly above the castle of Kirklinton,” the soldier said, and mounting their horses, they rode off towards the border.
Isla and Fraser lay silent for a few moments, as the sound of the horse’s hooves echoed away down the track. Fraser stood up first, cautiously checking all around him for any signs of English soldiers. But the night was now still, and as Isla clambered to her feet, she sighed heavily and looked around her.
“Wicked men, planning an invasion, and they must have sent scouts here to see the lay of the land under the cover of darkness. My father must hear of this,” she said, looking at Fraser with worry in her eyes.
“And what will yer father say if ye tell him ye have been out here on the border at night? He would forbid ye from ever walking out this way again, and … I would never see ye again,” Fraser said, taking her hand as they walked together back towards the village.
“But ye heard what those men said. They plan to come under darkness and attack the castle. My father must be warned,” she said, but she knew Fraser was right.
If she told her father she had overheard the men talking, then her secret liaison with Fraser would be discovered, and any hope of seeing him again would be gone. As the two arrived at the village, she turned to him and placed her arms around his neck.
“Will I see ye again?” he asked.
“Aye, get a message to me if ye can, the next time that Sweeney brings a horse to be shod. ‘Tis dangerous for us to meet too soon. My father is a suspicious man, and I cannae go walkin’ out anytime I choose. But I want to see ye again, Fraser. It is all I have thought of these past few days and being with ye tonight has been the most perfect moment, despite what we have overheard,” she said, and leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek, smiling, as he turned away in embarrassment.
“I will send a message with Sweeney. Take care though, lass. These are dangerous times for us all, and ye must look after yerself, ye hear me,” he said.
“Aye,” she said, “goodnight, Fraser and thank ye,” and with that, she hurried off into the night, making with all haste for home, her thoughts now turned to her father and the fate which was about to befall them all.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was late when Isla arrived back at the castle, but light still shone from the upper hall, and her father was waiting for her, sitting by the fire with the dogs.
“Ye took yer time, lass,” he said, not looking up as she entered the room and greeted the dogs, who ran to her.
“There was … much to talk about. So much has happened in these past weeks, I lost track of the time,” she replied, settling herself in a chair opposite him.
“Ye were careful, though, weren’t ye? The marshes are becomin’ dangerous, I dinnae want ye walkin’ out there alone anymore. Nae until the danger from the English is passed,” he replied.
“There is always danger from the English, father, and ye have never forbidden me before, yet now ye even forbid me from talkin’ to the blacksmith alone,” she said, sighing deeply.
At the mention of Fraser, her father looked up and fixed her with a stern gaze.
“Just know that in all things, I have yer best intentions at heart, lass, and I will nae see ye come to any harm, ye understand?” he said, rising from his place. “We live in dangerous times. I have already lost those I love; I shall nae see ye lost too.”
And with that, he strode from the room, banging the door behind him as the dogs whimpered. Isla sat for a while, looking silently into the flames. She knew she must warn her father of what she had heard, but how to do so without enraging him? As he was pondering what to do, the door opened, and Sweeney appeared. He often slept in the hall when the night was cold outside and the stables less than inviting.
“Oh, ye are still awake, lass. Dae ye mind if I warm myself upon the fire and take a little stew,” he said, pointing to the cauldron suspended over the fire.
“Nae, nae at all,” she replied, and turning to him, she smiled, “I have somethin’ to tell ye though,” and she began to recount what she had observed with Fraser.
When she finished, Sweeney let out a low whistle and ponderously stared into the flames.
“And ye cannae tell the Laird because …” he began.
“Because he would never let me leave the tower again, and I promised him that I wouldnae see Fraser again. If he found out, then he could have Fraser put in the stocks or worse,” she said, “but there is a way, Sweeney,” and she smiled at him again.
“Oh, nae, dinnae involve me in yer schemin’ again, lass. I have done one good deed for ye, dinnae expect another,” he replied.
“‘Tis nae a difficult one, Sweeney. All ye have to dae is tell my father that ye were out on the road tonight and that it was ye who saw the men ridin’ and overheard them. He is hardly going to question ye, is he? Ye have every right to be out, and once ye tell him what I … what ye saw, he is bound to reward ye. Perhaps you may sleep in here every night from now on,” Isla said, smiling at him.
Sweeney sighed and nodded his head, holding his hands out to the fire as if in anticipati
on of a permanent place at its side.
“Aye, very well then, lass. I will go to yer father in the mornin’ and tell him what ye saw. I will say I was walkin’ to the tavern down at Lochrutton, which is nae lie, ‘tis a place I often visit, and if it helps the clan against the English, then I shall feel that I have done my duty,” he said, looking at her and smiling.
“Thank ye, Sweeney. Ye have always been a good and loyal friend,” she said, and she got up and embraced him, kissing him on the cheek.
“Steady now, lass. Yer father wouldnae like to see you doing’ that,” Sweeney said.
“He would rather I kissed ye than Fraser, the blacksmith. I still dinnae ken why my father is so against him,” Isla said, as she prepared to go to bed, petting the dogs who were sleeping by the fire.
A Highlander Forged In Fire (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 9