“I dinna want such blood in my veins, lass. Nay, I stand with the both of ye and I will see to it that my father knows reason,” he replied, shaking his head, as though his father’s actions caused him much sorrow and pain.
“Ye are a good man, Alistair Campbell, and knowin’ I have ye at my side this night will make the whole thing far easier to bear,” Arabel replied, and she kissed him upon the cheek, causing him to blush deeply.
“Well, we must get ready,” he said. “And let it be my honor to escort ye to the feast this night.”
“I should wish for none other than ye to dae so,” she replied, smiling at him as he left the room.
But despite his words she still felt deeply worried about what was to come, and as she made herself ready that night, thoughts of all that might happen were foremost on her mind. She imagined Duncan walking through the forest, his foot fall upon the snow, his sword at his side. Would he be scared? She had never known him so. He always seemed so commanding, so in control.
For all the years he had been gone she had never quite given up hope of his return. Even when Fraser had announced with absolute certainty that he was dead, she had refused to believe him. Preferring instead to hold a flame of hope in her heart, a flame which had now burst into life. She had hope in Duncan and as the evening’s feast approached, she felt certain that he would overcome the dangers which he would now face and emerge triumphant as Laird.
***
“Ye are sure ye dinna wish us to accompany ye?” Brodie Macintyre said as Duncan tightened his grandfather’s sword around his waist and ate a morsel of bread and cheese.
“Nay, ye remain here and follow on later when all is clear. I need ye to gather the folks of the forest together and see to it that we have a strong force outside the gates. I dinna think there will be any trouble, but ye never ken,” Duncan replied.
“I want to follow ye,” Hamish said, stepping forward and standing tall before Duncan, who smiled and placed a hand upon his shoulder.
“The time for yer bravery is coming, lad. I promise ye that, but ye must stay with yer father for now and look after yer mother and sister. Very soon ye shall have a new home in the castle and I will show ye how to be a warrior,” Duncan said, nodding to the boy before turning to Christina and Lena.
“And I have the both of ye to thank for yer kindness to me. I wouldnae be better or strong again if it were nae for ye both and I shall nae forget yer kindness to me,” Duncan said, smiling at them both.
Lena rushed forward and flung her arms around his waist, sobbing almost uncontrollably but he knelt and took her in his arms.
“Ye know, lass, ye too need to be brave. I am nae goin’ to be killed, I am just goin’ to take back what is rightfully mine, ye hear me? And when I dae I will nae forget yer kindness to me these days past. Would ye like to live in a castle?” Duncan said, wiping the tears from Lena’s eyes.
She nodded and clasped hold of him, holding him so tight that he had no choice but to pick her up and carry her to the bed at the back of the cottage.
“Ye will come back, won’t ye?” she whispered, as he laid her down.
“Aye, now get some rest young lass and when Christmas comes ye shall see a wee miracle,” he said, and he wished her goodnight before bidding the others goodbye.
“Good luck to ye, Laird and know that ye have loyalty in each of us,” Brodie said, shaking him by the hand.
“And for that I thank ye,” Duncan replied, wrapping his cloak around him and stepping out into the night.
Chapter 10
An Unexpected Guest
The moon was bright that Christmas Eve and its light reflected off the snow as Duncan made his way through the trees. Above him an owl hooted, and he could hear the sounds of far off wild animals skulking in the woods. But his mind was turned to only one thing, and as he came closer to the castle, his pace slowed and he felt his heart beating anxiously.
“Steady yerself,” he whispered to himself, his hand on his sword hilt lest an enemy jump out upon him.
He felt foolish to be nervous, for in truth he knew that the only enemy he would face would be his uncle. But would the rest of the clan rally to his support or would they see the two men fight, perhaps to the death? Duncan knew that he had the support of the ordinary folks who lived round about and that the nobles of the clan would also rally to his cause. But would Fraser Campbell step aside so easily? The answer was that which Duncan feared.
His uncle would cling to power for as long as possible and for him to relinquish it at a word from Duncan was an idle thought, foolishly entertained. And then there was the question of Arabel. Surely Fraser would not sit by and allow her and Alistair to relinquish their betrothal. It would send his whole world crashing down. The future inheritance, the establishment of a line, all that would be gone. It was for these reasons that Duncan now slowed his pace, looking up at the castle walls which loomed above him hoping that Donald McGowan had done his duty.
***
The piper had just begun to play, and the fire was roaring in the hearth as Alistair and Arabel crossed the threshold of the Great Hall arm in arm. He was dressed in his best tunic and she in a very pretty dress of blue and red in honor of the holy season. There was much whispering and talking amongst those gathered, for they all believed a wedding to be near at hand.
Fraser Campbell had already taken his place at the high table, preparing to preside over the clan and the feast which was to come. He too was dressed in the finery of a Scottish Laird and he looked every part the warrior, with a sword hung at his side. The Great Hall was filled with guests and there was much chatter and laughter, for the happy spirit of Christmas was in the air and the guests were looking forward to the celebrations to come.
“Have ye heard anythin’ from Donald McGowan?” Alistair asked, whispering to Arabel, who was doing her best to smile and look happy.
“Aye, he has seen to the doors. They are all unlocked, Duncan will have nay trouble in gettin’ in,” she said, nodding to the noble men and women, as they came to stand before Fraser.
“A happy Christmas to ye, son,” Fraser said, ignoring Arabel as she made a formal curtsey to him.
“Aye, a blessed Christmas to ye too, Father,” Alistair replied, leading Arabel to her place as Fraser called for the feast to begin.
“My friends, clansmen, good people of the glen. There will be time for a lengthier speech later but for now I command ye all to eat, drink, and be merry!” he said, and clapping his hands together the feast began, and a cheer went up from the gathered assembly.
The doors to the Great Hall opened, and the servants began to bring in all manner of good food, laden onto trays and silver platters. There were fish caught from the loch, smoked and dressed with sorrel and other herbs, haunches of venison and freshly baked breads, dried fruits and pickles, salted meats and all manner of other delicacies. All presented for the enjoyment of the clan and the celebration of Christmas. Barrels of ale and whisky were tapped so that soon the guests were drunk, reveling with one another and singing snatches of songs.
“Tis’ a great sight to see one’s clan all together, isnae it?” Fraser said, turning to Alistair who sat quietly with Arabel, neither wishing anything to do with the festivities.
“Tis, Father, aye, a grand sight to behold,” Alistair replied, and Fraser shook his head at him.
“Ye have nay spirit in ye tonight, lad and ye neither, lass. Is the tongue gone from yer head too?” Fraser said, leaning over drunkenly and snatching her hand.
“Let go of me,” she cried, pulling back and causing Fraser to lurch forward.
“Now see what ye have done, stupid lass,” he said, his drink spilling over the table, “I dinna ken why I put up with ye, the sooner the two of ye are married the better.”
Alistair and Arabel made no reply, and the feast continued with Fraser talking to the men on his left and ignoring his son and would be daughter-in-law. As the plates were cleared, Donald McGowan slipped into a place a
t the end of the table and nodded to them, pointing towards the door.
“He’s seen to it,” Arabel whispered as Fraser staggered up and raised his glass.
“Now my friends, we have much to be grateful for,” he began, ale sloshing over the side of his cup as he steadied himself upon the table. “Another year passed and a new year to begin. But in this year, we shall see the strengthening of the clan through the marriage of my son to Arabel Boyd, and nay better marriage could be made than that. A toast then, to the two of them,” and he held up his glass.
The clan cheered and toasted Alistair and Arabel, who remained resolutely fixed to their seats and Fraser once more turned forward and began to speak.
“But we must nae forget one thing amidst this happiness and that is our sadness at the loss of dear Duncan, my nephew. He had been a prisoner in England at the hands of wicked men and, through his own bravery, had escaped and returned to us. But it is sad to say that he has now decided to leave us and seek his fortunes elsewhere. I am sorry to have to tell ye that it seems he was lost in the forest and that the wolves which we ken prowl these mountains and forests have taken him. Tis’ a sad thing to report, and I ask ye all to pause a moment in silence for Duncan, my dear nephew.”
***
In the corridor outside the Great Hall, Duncan was seething with anger. He had found his entrance to the castle an easy one for none of the guards were alert that night and Donald McGowan had done his duty. The gates and doors all unlocked as he had promised. Duncan had circled the courtyard beneath the shadows of the walls and entered the keep just as the servants were clearing the empty platters and plates.
Duncan knew the castle better than anyone and he was soon outside the Great Hall, having been seen by no one. There, in the corridor, he listened to Fraser’s speech and was disgusted at the fact his uncle could speak such untruths to the clan, despite being the perpetrator of such wickedness against him.
Now, as he heard his uncle’s final words, he knew the time had come to act. As Fraser called for silence in memory of Duncan, he flung wide the doors to the Great Hall and strode down the middle aisle, his sword drawn, as a great gasp went up around him.
“Not so dead now, Uncle,” Duncan cried, advancing towards the high table as the clan looked on in amazement.
For a moment Fraser appeared lost for words as Duncan now stood before him.
“Tis’ a spirit,” one man cried, “a spirit on Christmas Eve.”
“I am nay spirit, I assure ye. I am very much alive, nay thanks to this man ye see before ye,” Duncan said, holding his uncle’s glare, as Arabel and Alistair leaped to their feet.
“So, he returns, nae set upon by wolves as we thought,” Fraser said, finding his composure as Duncan shook his head.
“Yer lies will be yer undoin’ Uncle, for ye ken as well as I that the wolves of this forest are innocent in this treachery,” Duncan said, standing resolutely before his uncle who laughed.
“Come eat with us then, Duncan. If ye are alive then ye shall need some food, shall ye nae?” Fraser said, holding up a platter of meat and pointing to a seat at his side.
“I wouldnae sit with ye and sup if ye were the last man on God’s earth. Ye are nothin’ but a scoundrel and a wretch,” Duncan replied as Fraser’s face turned to anger.
“Ye would come here to my hall on Christmas Eve and insult me, lad? Ye shall learn some manners, ye hear me?” Fraser said, his hand now upon his sword hilt.
“Yer hall? Nay, this is nay yer hall, tis’ my hall and the rightful hall of my father. Ye have nay claim upon it. Ye are nothin’ but a pretender, for I am the rightful Laird of this castle and this glen and of these good people. Ye have nay right to claim it as yer own, for I am nae dead but very much alive,” Duncan said, his voice rising in anger.
At these words Fraser drew his sword and leaped across the table to face his nephew, the two circling one another, as the gathered clan watched in horror.
“This man not only denied me what is mine by right, he also tried to have me killed. I was dragged from my bed in the dead of night by his soldiers and taken out into the woods to have my throat cut. But those men couldnae dae it and instead I was left in a clearing far up on the mountainside. But tis’ fortunate that I still have friends in the forest, friends who took me and cared for me, helped me to regain my strength, and now I return to make my rightful claim,” Duncan cried, and he lunged forward, his sword clashing into that of Fraser as the two men began to fight.
“Stop this, Father,” Alistair cried, rushing around the table. But the two men paid him no attention as metal clashed against metal.
Neither would back down and they lunged and jabbed, stabbed and recoiled, as blow after blow was reigned upon the other. Duncan was skilled with the sword and he leaped and dodged every one of Fraser’s attacks, forcing him back towards the high table and causing him to stagger to the floor.
“Ye will renounce yer claim upon this castle and upon these people, dae ye hear me?” Duncan said, as he brought his sword down and Fraser dodged to the side.
“And ye will see me dead before I dae so,” Fraser cried, thrusting his sword towards Duncan, who dodged backwards and stumbled.
In an instant Fraser was upon him, but as he raised his sword for a final blow, Duncan rolled to the side and Fraser went crashing onto the ground, sending the clansmen fleeing as Duncan took hold of him and dragged him up.
“That’s enough,” he cried, holding his sword to his uncle’s throat.
“Dae it then, run me through, ye dinna have the courage lad,” Fraser snarled, their faces within an inch of each other.
“I will nae murder a man in cold blood, but ye will surrender to me and ye will be dealt with according to our laws,” Duncan replied, casting his uncle aside and turning to the clan.
“It is for the clan to speak,” Fraser said, staggering up and turning to the others. “Let them pronounce who should be Laird. The one who has led them faithfully all these years or the lad who runs back from imprisonment with high and mighty ideas,” and he spat upon the floor.
“Duncan is the rightful Laird, Father,” Alistair said, stepping forward. “It is he who will be Laird, nae ye.”
“My own son, turnin’ against me,” Fraser said, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked around him.
A murmur went up from the clansmen and Donald McGowan stepped forward.
“I stand with Duncan—ye are nay Laird, Fraser. Ye have made yerself look pathetic and yer actions are nothin’ but those of a coward. Stand aside and retain a shred of honor,” Donald said, and to his side came others, calling out their support for Duncan and opposition to Fraser, who stood alone in the middle of the Great Hall, his head now hung in sorrow.
“Ye see, Fraser, ye have nay support and I can tell ye that out there amongst the ordinary folks ye have nay support either. Right now, Brodie Macintyre has the forest dwellers roused and ready to come to my aid. Ye have lost, but unlike ye I shall be merciful,” Duncan said, stepping forward and lowering his sword as Fraser eyed him with contempt.
“I need nay mercy from ye, nephew,” he growled, turning away.
“But ye shall have it whether ye wish for it or nae,” Duncan continued. “The choice is yers, ye can leave this castle now and go into exile—the same exile which you hoped to banish me into—or ye remain here and be my prisoner until ye earn our trust again and I see fit to let ye go. The choice is yers.”
“Tis’ nay choice, only nonsense,” Fraser replied.
“Either way ye shall make it,” Duncan replied, as the clan stood silently behind him watching Fraser’s every move.
Fraser said nothing, but what more could he do? He was beaten, and he knew it. Snatching up his sword he strode from the Great Hall as a cheer went up from the clan.
“See to it that he is truly gone,” Duncan said to Donald, and the old soldier nodded, signaling to some others to accompany him.
Duncan turned to Arabel who ran to embrace him, and as t
he two parted Alistair came to stand before them.
“I am sorry for my father’s actions. He has behaved without honor and as a coward. Let it be kent that I dinna share his ways and that I am loyal to ye as my Laird and master,” Alistair said, kneeling before Duncan and offering his sword.
“I was never in doubt of ye, Alistair. Since we were bairns ye have been a good and loyal friend, more than any cousin ever has been,” Duncan said, placing his hand upon Alistair’s shoulder.
“And I will nae stand in the way of ye both nor yer happiness,” Alistair said, taking Arabel’s hand and placing it into Duncan’s. “I wish the two of ye all the happiness in the world and I shall always be yer loyal friend.”
Arabel smiled at Alistair and kissed him on the cheek as Duncan shook him warmly by the hand.
“Nay better cousin could a man want, and nay better friend,” Duncan said, and turning to the clan he called for the feast to continue.
“And nay better Laird could they hope for,” Arabel said, taking his hand and smiling.
The servants brought fresh barrels of liquor and a toast was made to the new Laird and his bride-to-be. The announcement of the wedding brought some surprise to the gathered clansmen, but when they realized that Alistair Campbell was more than happy to once more be a single man with the opportunity to forge his own way in life, they toasted him too.
As midnight approached the yule log was hauled in from the courtyard and Duncan pronounced the blessing upon it. It had always been his favorite moment of Christmas when he was a child and he could picture his father stood in just the same place he now stood, recalling the words perfectly despite the absence of all these years.
“And may our clan this year be blessed, by hallowed yule time rest. May this log upon the fire be a sign of our desire to greet this new year as it stands with open heart and open hands,” Duncan said as the log was placed upon the fire and the flames leaped up around it.
The Castle Courtyard on a Snowy Christmas Eve Page 7