“I wouldnae want to cross yer father, and if Fraser has done somethin’ in the past that he is nae tellin’ ye, then ye should be wary, lass,” Sweeney said, as she bid him goodnight.
“I dinnae think he is hidin’ anythin’ from me. He is as confused as I am,” she replied, and climbed the spiral stairs to bed, leaving Sweeney to sleep by the hearth.
* * *
The next morning Sweeney was true to his word, and by the time that Isla had come down for breakfast, the Laird had already been informed of what had been heard of upon the road. There was much excitement about the castle, and already Alistair had sent out word to the nearby clansmen, summoning them to a council of war.
“We are in greater danger than we thought, lass,” Alistair said to Isla, as she stood before him. “The English plan to attack us here at Kirklinton and have sent scouts across the border to spy out our defenses, which I am sad to say are woefully inadequate. I have summoned the chieftains nearby to a council of war. We must be ready for the English when they come.”
“Aye father, and what can we dae? Will they come in force against us? Dae we have enough men? Enough horses to resist them?” Isla said, as her father shook his head.
“Nae on our own, lass, and that is why I have summoned the others. We cannae survive alone. ‘Tis time that the clans begin to work together and defend what is rightfully ours against these English fiends. Too long have we dallied back and forth across the border. But a burnt farm or a raided house is nae going to prevent the English from growin’ stronger. We must have a decisive victory, and we must be ready for them when they come,” he said, bringing his fist down hard on the table and startling the dogs who began to bark.
“I know, father, I know,” she said, a worried look upon her face.
She had always lived with the threat of the English just across the border, but somehow it seemed more real now. Images from her childhood circled in her mind, and she thought of that fateful night when her parents had died, and she had come into the care of Alistair and Ailsa. Ever since then, she had wanted revenge upon those responsible, chief among them, Sir Percy Musgrave, upon whom she hoped a terrible fate would fall at her father’s hands.
* * *
As the day drew on, several of the nobles from thereabouts arrived at Kirklinton, responding to Alistair Elliott’s call to arms. There was the Laird of the Wilsons, the Laird of the Johnstones, and the Laird of the Kerrs. Each brought with them news of English atrocities and a desire to see the borders defended at all costs.
Isla was seated in the hall, as the men gathered to discuss their strategy, each hungry for war and the defense of their lands.
“I say we attack them now and rain down such terror upon that castle as it has never known,” the Laird of the Kerr’s said after Alistair had asked for the opinion of those gathered.
“We would be defeated. The Musgrave castle is impenetrable, and nae one has ever breached its battlements. The English have skilled archers, and ye would be dead before ye were within a hundred yards of the walls,” the Laird of the Kerr’s replied.
“Aye, Andrew is right,” Alistair said, sighing heavily. “We cannae attack the English across the border. They would have every advantage against us, but we have the advantage here. We know our territory, and we know best where to lay an ambush for them. I have it on good account that they plan to come by the road and not by the marshes. They will come at night and seek to take us by surprise, and that is where we shall be waitin’ for them.”
“And how dae ye know they will be comin’ by night and nae across the marshes,” the Laird of the Wilson’s said, looking in puzzlement at Alistair.
“A stable hand of mine was out drinkin’ in the tavern last night. On the road, he encountered a group of English scouts, and as he hid from them, he heard them speakin’ in such terms. Percy Musgrave should warn his men about indiscretions,” Alistair said, smiling, “and that is what will give us the advantage.”
The others agreed, and there was much further discussion as to how and where to muster the Scottish troops. It was clear that they would be outnumbered, but what they lacked in men they surely made up for in valor and courage, for there were no braver folks than the border clans, and together, they were determined to defeat the English enemy.
Isla listened absentmindedly to these discussions. She knew that she would never be permitted to fight, certainly not after what had occurred before. The Laird of the Wilson’s made idle reference to the warrior daughter of the Elliott Laird, and Alistair glanced at his daughter with a look which reminded her not to cross his path again.
Eventually, the Lairds went their separate ways, promising to muster their troops and prepare for battle immediately. The attack could come at any time, and it was decided to warn the folks of the villages and crofts thereabouts to be on their guard lest the English strike them unawares.
“We will be ready and will nae be taken by surprise,” Alistair said, as the men shared a dram of whiskey before their departure.
“Aye, to victory,” the Laird of the Kerrs said, raising his glass.
“To victory,” the others cried, as Isla watched sadly, wondering if these men really could save her and all the others from the English threat.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Duncan’s bags were packed, and he was ready to leave for Lanercost. The monks had now made provision for him, and he would enter as a novice on the feast of Saint Kyneburg. He would soon be a monk and leave his old life behind, and Fraser was sad at the thought of losing his brother to his religious vocation. Still, if it were God’s will and Duncan’s decision, he could not very well stand in the way, and he had assured his brother of his prayers and support.
But the arrival of a messenger from the castle at Kirklinton had caused a stir in the village, and at breakfast, on the day of Duncan’s planned departure, there came a knock upon the door to the croft.
“Good mornin’ Father MacConkey, ye have come for Duncan, I suppose?” Fraser said, greeting the old priest, who shook his head.
“Nae, there must be a change to our plans. Come with me the both of ye. There is a pronouncement to be made in front of the kirk. The Laird has sent a messenger to us. ‘Tis important; come now the both of ye,” the priest said, beckoning to the brothers urgently.
“What’s going on, father?” Duncan said, laying down his bag with a look of disappointment on his face.
“There is nae time to explain, lad, come now,” the priest said, ushering the two men towards the kirk.
There, gathered around a man, was a group of villagers, and more were coming from each direction of the village. Around thirty folks lived in the village at Lochrutton, and eventually, it seemed they were all gathered to hear the proclamation from the Laird’s messenger.
“What’s happening, Fraser?” one of the women asked him, but he just shook his head, for he had no idea what was now to be said.
“Friends, I bring word from yer Laird, Alistair Elliott, and a warnin’ to ye all. The English are plannin’ an invasion of the borderlands, and if they cross anywhere, it will be close to this village. The Laird urges ye to be ready to defend yerselves and yer families and to remember that ye are loyal clansmen and will be protected by the forces which the Laird is now musterin’. Nae one should be afraid, but ye must take extra precautions to ensure yer safety, and if anyone hears anythin’ of importance, he or she is to report it immediately to Father MacConkey,” the messenger said, reading from a roll of parchment.
“Nae be afraid? What nonsense is that. Of course, we should be afraid, afraid for our lives and those of our bairns,” one woman said, and others nodded in agreement.
“The Laird will see to it that ye are protected. ‘Tis nae this village which the English want. If they did, then they could have burned it a hundred times already. ‘Tis the castle at Kirklinton, which will be their objective, and the Laird has seen to it that our forces, along with those of the Wilsons, Kerrs, and Johnstones, will stand to
gether against this tyranny,” the messenger said.
“Come on, Duncan, we have heard enough,” Fraser said, taking his brother’s arm.
“But what about the monastery? I am supposed to travel there today,” Duncan said, a look of sadness and confusion coming over his face.
“The road will be too dangerous for ye at this time, lad. But dinnae worry, the monks are going nae where, wait a few weeks, and then we shall go,” Father MacConkey said, with a grave look upon his face.
“Father is right, Duncan. Ye cannae make the journey today, nae with the English on every side and the threat of danger along the road. There is nae point in travelin’ to give yer life to God if it is to be cut short along the way now, is there?” Fraser said as Duncan looked at him in disappointment.
“But …” he began.
“But nothin’. Come along home now. Lanercost will still be there when all this sorry business is over. Ye can help me in the workshop a little while longer. I could dae with the help,” Fraser said, as they walked away from the gathered peasants and back towards home.
There was an air of uneasiness about the village, and Fraser gazed up to the ridge above, as though expecting to see a whole host of English soldiers about to bear down upon them. But there was nothing out of the ordinary, just the tree line and ever-changing sky behind.
“They will surely nae attack innocent folks here in Lochrutton, though, will they?” Duncan said as they returned to the workshop, and Fraser stoked up the fire.
“Innocent folks loyal to the Laird and nae the English,” Fraser replied. “They will as soon attack us as any other folks across the border. It has been an uneasy peace these last years, but if these rumors are true, then it seems the English are finally decidin’ to act, and we shall bear the consequences.”
Duncan was silent for a moment, and crossing himself, he knelt in prayer as Fraser began to hammer out an arrowhead. The brothers were nervous, and as the day went on, they listened for any sounds of approaching troops or disturbances in the village. But Fraser knew what he had heard up on the ridge above the other night, that an attack would come in the dead of night and that the English would seek first to capture the castle, before laying waste to the surrounding crofts. Perhaps the village would be spared, but then what would become of Isla?
He found himself unable to concentrate, and several times, he almost struck his hand with the hammer, cursing himself for his distractions. But Fraser was worried about Isla, and he wanted to make sure she was safe. As the afternoon wore on and the shadows began to lengthen, he found no further interest in his work, and laying aside his tools, he took up his cloak and wished his brother goodbye.
“Where are ye going? If I cannae go to Lanercost, then ye should nae be makin’ idle walks on such a day,” Duncan said, laying aside his prayer book and turning to his brother.
“To Kirklinton, I want to see Isla and make sure she is safe,” Fraser replied.
“But ye heard what the Laird said? Ye and she are nae to speak with one another, and if ye dae ye will be punished,” Duncan replied, catching his brother by the arm.
“I will be careful, but … well, I didnae tell ye but the two of us … we were about to exchange a kiss the other night, but the English came like I told ye. It … it meant somethin’ to me, and I know it did to her too. I just want to make sure she is alright, I will nae be seen by the Laird,” Fraser said, and he strolled purposefully out into the late afternoon.
The road to Kirklinton was quiet, and Fraser watched as a hawk circled overhead. He wondered just how far its eyes could see and what dangers it knew that he did not. He felt nervous as he climbed up from the forest path and out onto the marshes. The castle stood as a lonely monument, rising out of the heathers on the horizon, a solitary outpost against impending doom. The sun was catching the stone, which stood starkly against the reddening sky behind, as the sun began to dip.
Fraser was unsure what he expected to achieve by going to Kirklinton. It had seemed simple back home. He would go there and check on Isla. He wanted so desperately to see her, to know that she was safe. His every thought was now directed towards her, and he found his heart racing at the prospect of seeing her. But he could not just walk boldly up to the door and request an audience. She would surely be with her father, and if the Laird saw him, then he had no doubt that his anger would be kindled against him. These actions were quite out of character, but Fraser had never felt such feelings before. Isla had enchanted him, and the thought of the kiss they had almost shared upon the ridge was enough to put his timid nature behind him and give him a boldness quite remarkable for one usually so withdrawn and timid.
Fraser slowed his pace, approaching the tower with caution. All was quiet, and he glanced around nervously, lest some ambush be sprung upon him. But there was nothing but the wind blowing across the heathers and the call of the hawk as it rose triumphantly with prey in its claws.
“Ye are a fool, Fraser,” he whispered to himself, hiding cautiously behind a low wall by the stable yard.
There was no sign of life, and he looked up at the dark, foreboding windows above. Was Isla there? Should he call out to her? Step out onto the courtyard and make his presence known? But just as he was about to do so, a familiar figure emerged from the stables, leading one of the horses. Sweeney, too, was looking around him nervously, and as Fraser stepped out from his hiding place, he startled, his hand reaching for his sword before recognizing the blacksmith standing before him.
“Ye fool,” Sweeney hissed, “what are ye doing’ here? If the Laird sees ye,” and he pulled Fraser into one of the stables, shaking his head.
“Is Isla alright?” Fraser said, ignoring Sweeney’s worried face.
“Aye, but ye shall nae be if ye are caught here. Ye heard what was said about yer comin’ here, ‘tis forbidden,” Sweeney hissed.
“I only wanted to see Isla,” Fraser replied, looking over the stable hand’s shoulder as if expecting to catch a glimpse of Isla in the yard.
“She is with her father. Dae ye nae ken what is happenin’, ye fool? We are preparin’ for war. The English are comin’, and ye should be at home,” Sweeney said, shaking his head.
“I just came to speak with Isla. I … I dinnae know why. I just wanted to see her,” Fraser said, the realization of his foolhardiness beginning to dawn.
“What? So ye thought ye could just march up here and walk into the castle and speak with her. What are ye, lovesick, or somethin’? Go home, and be glad that it was I who found ye and nae the Laird himself,” Sweeney said.
“Well … will ye … will ye give her a message?” Fraser said, looking hopefully at Sweeney, who sighed.
“Am I forever to be yer go-between?” he replied.
“Just one message, Sweeney. Think of all the times I have helped ye out and shod yer horses or mended yer chains these years past. Ye wouldnae enjoy the Laird’s favor if it were nae for my hard work,” Fraser said, raising his eyebrows at Sweeney who sighed.
“Aye, well, ye have helped me over the years, Fraser. Very well, what message am I to pass to the lass? She is with her father now mind, so it may nae be until later I get the chance,” Sweeney said.
“Tell her that I came to see that she was alright and that I send my fondest wishes to her. Tell her that I shall wait for her tomorrow, when the sun is at its midpoint, in the old croft at Triermain,” Fraser replied.
“Ye are playin’ a dangerous game, Fraser,” Sweeney said, “but I shall deliver yer message for ye, though whether she can come or nae I dinnae ken.”
“Thank ye, Sweeney, ye are a good lad,” Fraser said, patting the stable hand on the back and smiling.
“Aye, well, that is all yer favors used up now, lad,” Sweeney replied, and glancing nervously out of the stable door, he pushed Fraser back out into the yard.
It was dusk now, and still, there was no one about. Fraser was more cautious now, the foolhardiness of earlier giving way to a desire for self-preservation, for he knew t
hat if Alistair Elliott discovered him, then he would be in grave danger, though for what reason he still did not know. As he hid in the shadows of the wall and made to run across the yard, he glanced up at the windows above and was startled to see a face looking back.
It was Isla, and she raised her hand to him, urging him to leave as the door of the castle opened, and Alistair Elliott emerged, flanked by several of his clansmen. Fraser threw himself behind the low wall where the track began and peered cautiously around, as the Laird and the others walked through the stable yard.
“‘Tis comin’. I can feel it. The English will nae wait long. I want guards posted on all the roads, and at the first sign of trouble, they are to ride back and rally the troops. We will nae be taken by surprise,” Alistair Elliott said, as Fraser watched from his hiding place.
“Aye, Laird,” one of the clansmen replied, “I have already sent men out onto the heathers. They will warn us at the first sign of trouble.”
A Highlander Forged In Fire (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 10