Honor Restored

by Fiona MacEwen

  “I did nae mean it like that,” she replied, but he laughed.

  “Ye are free to come and go from this library as ye please, Una. This is yer home now. Come, there is much more to show ye,” he said, and he held out his hand to her and she took it.

  There was something quite different about Callum. He was nothing like the other Lairds and for a moment, amidst the splendor of the library, she found herself wondering if this castle really could become her home. He was far kinder than any man had been to her before, kind like her father and even his gentle smile reminded her of the man she had loved most in all the world. He led her through the corridors and stairways of the keep until they arrived at a large, heavy door, above which hung the crest of the McNeil’s.

  “The garden?” she asked, and he nodded, pulling back the bolts and opening the door.

  The sight which greeted her was quite astonishing, and it took her breath away for a moment, as she drank in the sight before her. Below the castle walls was laid out a garden the likes of which she had never seen before. Despite the early autumn now setting in, the garden still bloomed in all manner of colors and textures. The shelter of the walls and the cliffs rising up above, into which the castle was built, had provided the perfect place to grow all manner of plants and shrubs. Box hedge was laid out, its sweet scent filling the air and there must have been a hundred herbs and fruiting trees, lining the borders abundantly. It was a paradise and Una could not help but smile at the sight.

  “My mother takes great pride in it, though she is sick and cannae work here now. I see to it that tis’ tended to each day though,” Callum said, as he led Una along the paths through the garden, pointing to this and that as they went.

  “Tis’ beautiful, Callum,” she said, reaching up to pluck an apple from an overhanging tree.

  “And ye are free to come here as often as ye like, lass. My mother will be so pleased to know that there is someone here who appreciates the garden as she does,” Callum replied, as they paused beneath a trailing rose.

  “I have never seen somethin’ so beautiful before,” Una replied, “tis’ a paradise ye have created here.”

  “Aye, and there are many cruel men who would wish to take it from us. Not least Feargan McDonald. But he wouldnae appreciate this. He wouldnae see its beauty. To him, places such as this are only to be conquered, subjected and brought under control. That is why I had to protect it, Una. Dae ye understand?” Callum said, turning to her.

  “Aye, I understand,” Una replied.

  She was telling the truth. She did understand why he had made a pact with the devil himself. The man who murdered her father would have no qualms in murdering Callum and his family too. He was nothing but a wicked man, intent upon war and destruction. In his hands this beautiful place would be reduced to nothing more than a grim outpost, a faded memory of what had just been. Yet for Una, it remained a prison, and she looked up at the walls knowing that even the most beautiful of prisons still entrap the human soul.

  “Would ye like to meet my mother?” Callum asked, as they made their way back towards the keep.

  “Aye, I would,” Una replied, and they walked hand in hand back inside.

  Upstairs, he led her through more corridors and passageways until they arrived outside a large and imposing door. It too bore the McNeil crest and Callum tapped gently upon it before entering. Inside, the room was bright and cheerful, a fire burning merrily in the hearth. The walls were hung with tapestries and the room was well furnished. At its center, against the far wall, was a large bed, covered by a canopy with curtains drawn on two sides. The occupant was propped up, wrapped in blankets and she smiled at Callum and Una as they entered.

  “I have heard tell of this,” she said, pointing at Una and shaking her head, “the poor wee lass.”

  “Aye, Mother. A strange thing to return with, but I hope a happy gift, and better she is here than many of the other places she may have had to endure,” Callum replied, going to his mother’s bedside.

  “Won in a card game, lass. There are worse men who could have been victorious than my son, I assure ye of that,” the old woman said. “My name is Mary McNeil and ye will find me a kind hearted sort, that is how I raised Callum.”

  Una nodded. It was clear that she was near the end of her life, her face drawn though still keen and her eyes bright. Her long silvery hair fell down around her and she looked tiny amidst the enormity of the bed. Callum had taken hold of her hand and Una came to stand at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to say.

  “I have just showed Una yer garden, Mother. She thought it very beautiful,” Callum said and the old woman smiled again.

  “Aye, a beautiful garden, how I wish I could be out there again. Tell me, are the apples ripe?” she said, and Callum nodded.

  Una reached into her pocket and drew out the fruit she had plucked just a short while ago and handed it to Callum’s mother, who exclaimed in delight.

  “They seem so,” Una said.

  “They are. I planted the trees myself when Callum was but a bairn. But now look at me, an old woman and good for nothin’ except lyin’ here in bed,” she said, taking a bite of the apple.

  “Come now, Mother. Ye are good for much still, nae least yer wisdom which has often brought me back to my senses,” Callum said, patting his mother’s hand.

  “Wisdom, Callum? Wisdom tells me ye were foolish to make a pact with the McDonald. He is nay friends of ours, of that I can tell ye with certainty,” his mother said.

  “Ye know a great deal for a woman always in her bed,” Callum said, smiling and glancing at Una.

  “Aye, I have my means,” the old woman said, winking at Una who could not help but laugh.

  “She will outlive us all,” Callum said. “Well Mother, we shall leave ye to yer rest.”

  “My rest? I have had more than enough rest, Callum. All I wish for is to be out in my garden again,” Mary replied.

  “Perhaps when spring comes, Mother” Callum replied, and he gestured to Una, who turned to Mary and smiled.

  “It was nice to meet ye,” she said, and the old woman nodded.

  “Are ye intendin’ to marry her, Callum? She would make ye a fine wife, I can tell just by lookin’ at her,” Mary said, as Callum blushed.

  “Mother, enough now,” he said, and he led Una from the room as Mary’s words rang out behind them.

  “She always speaks her mind,” Callum said, as they made their way downstairs towards the Great Hall.

  “Is that yer intention though?” Una asked, interested to know what the Laird believed he had won.

  “Una … I … I would never …” he began turning to her.

  “Aye …” she said, “I only wished to know yer intentions.”

  “I will respect ye, Una. I am nae like the others. Nae like those men, I promise ye. Ye deserve far more than that. Ye have suffered a great deal and I mean it when I say that my home is yer home. Ye are safe here and I will always protect ye,” he replied, taking her hand in his.

  Una smiled. There was a sincerity to his words, and she knew that he was telling the truth. She felt safe at Gilloch Castle, safer than she had felt in many months. There was something reassuring about the place. It felt almost otherworldly with its magnificent library and beautiful gardens. Behind its walls one could almost forget the trials and tribulations of life, yet Una knew it was still a prison and one which ultimately, she wished to escape from.

  It would not do to become too familiar or to grow attached to Callum. He was kind, and she was grateful to him for his pure intentions towards her. But even the kindest of jailers still holds the keys to freedom and so long as she remained at Gilloch Castle Una knew she was still a prisoner.

  That afternoon she explored the castle a little more, wandering along deserted corridors and taking staircases which led to distant landings and unused rooms. She was amazed to discover a gallery of paintings at the top of the keep, the ancestors of Callum looking down sternly upon her and at its end a r
oom containing yet more books and forgotten paintings. The castle was a treasure trove and when she came down for dinner in the Great Hall later that night, she could not help but be enthused by what she had seen.

  “Ye have so much to delight in here,” she said, as she and Callum sat down to eat.

  “The castle is many generations old, and each has added somethin’ new. The garden will be my legacy,” Callum replied, “and the library of course.”

  “I have seen so much today, it is hard to take it all in,” Una replied, “tell me, what is the glen itself like? The loch? Are there islands? Other castles?”

  “Aye, tis’ a beautiful place. Along the loch there is an island with a kirk and graves upon it. Ruined now, but once a place where the monks from Kildarrie would row out to and bury their dead. The monastery itself is a fine place, perhaps we will visit one day. From the heathers on the crag above ye can see right down the loch, we are blessed to live amidst such beauty,” Callum replied, and Una nodded.

  “So … I am nae a prisoner in these four walls? I may walk out alone?” she asked, but he shook his head.

  “Tis too dangerous, lass. Tis’ nae that I daenae trust ye, but I fear for yer safety. There are many men who would like to see ye theirs and I cannae allow that to happen,” he replied, laying aside his plate and spoon.

  “So, I am to stay in the castle?” she asked, and he nodded.

  “We will go together. I promise. That way, ye shall see the glen and I shall know that ye are safe for ye will be by my side,” he replied, and she nodded.

  His words simply proved what she knew to be true. She was a prisoner, however much he protested she was not. The walls of the castle were a barrier and she would not be allowed to pass through the gates without escort. It was no different to her time with Feargan McDonald, though as Una made her way to bed that night, she admitted that the circumstances were far more pleasant.

  She gazed out of her window across the moonlit glen. Freedom was so close, yet the walls of the castle stood between her and it. To affect her escape would require cunning and patience. Firstly, she must look for any means by which she herself might escape alone. A door or passageway leading to freedom, a time when the guards were unalert or at rest, when she might steal out of the gate, or any opportunity that might present itself.

  At the same time, she knew she must build the trust of Callum and make him think she was happy in her new prison. It would be an act, and one she knew she must play to the best of her ability. But despite her resolution to escape she could not help but feel something of a sympathy towards the Laird who had rescued her from the clutches of the McDonald’s. He had behaved with nothing but honor towards her and within her arose a sense of guilt at the deception she intended to pursue.

  “Ye owe them nothin’ Una,” she whispered to herself, as she looked out over the moonlit glen.

  She thought of her father and knew that he would want her to escape and continue the fight of the Gordons against their enemies. Gilloch Castle was a prison and Una would do everything she could to escape.

  Chapter 4

  A Seized Opportunity

  The weeks and months of Una’s captivity passed by, though there was nothing particularly unpleasant about it. She was well fed, warm and sheltered, she had clothes and the library proved a constant source of fresh discoveries for her entertainment. She often sat there for hours at a time, poring through the books and escaping into new worlds where she could forget her captivity and be free. The garden too was a place of delight and, despite it now being winter, she loved to walk there and see the last of the greenery still in abundance. Her jailer too was conducive company and Callum made time each day to spend with her, growing more like a friend than a warden. They would take walks upon the ramparts and he had begun to escort her out into the glen where they would pick mushrooms and walk in the forest or fish in the loch.

  Una knew that Callum had fallen in love with her. It was clear from his eyes, the way he looked at her, his smile and willingness to do anything for her. It was charming and Una wondered if he would ever pluck up the courage to ask her to marry him. His mother had repeated the assertion that they must marry on several occasions and Una had made no reply. Simply smiling and nodding, as Mary McNeil extolled the virtues of her son and reminded Una that there were worse places in which to find herself. That much was true, but Una still longed to return to the castle of her clan, to see the McDonald's vanquished and have her revenge upon Feargan for the murder of her father.

  Despite outward appearances, Una still had every intention of escape. She had come to know the soldiers on the walls and watched their movements. She knew at what times the gates would be open for carts and horses to come through from the village and she knew too when Callum took his rest or would be absent. She noticed these details, saving every scrap of information she could, awaiting her chance. She knew that eventually it would come and she would be as free as the eagles she watched circling their eyries on the mountains above.

  But it was clear to Una that Callum’s feelings towards her grew stronger by the day. He would visit her at odd times and bring her little gifts. He complimented her upon her looks and smiled at her when she caught his eye. He was ever attentive and day by day it seemed they were growing closer, or at least that is what Una wished for him to think. She knew that she could use this to her advantage, and she had bided her time watching and waiting for a chance to escape.

  The opportunity came just before Christmas, when the castle was busy with preparations for the festivities. Callum was to welcome visiting clansmen from across the glen and there would be a great feast with the burning of the yule log and much festivity to accompany it. Una had watched as hunting parties returned from the forest and barrels were brought forth from the cellars ready to be tapped. There was a smell of baking in the air and all around the castle the anticipation of Christmas was plain to see. The servants hurried back and forth and all manner of men and women began to arrive at the castle for the feast.

  Una watched with interest, pondering the possibilities for escape. She had spent much of the days leading up to Christmas in the library. There she had read tales of Scottish folklore and histories of the Highlands, she had learned much too about the McNeil’s and discovered that once they had fought alongside the Gordons in war against their neighboring clans. But such old alliances held no sway upon her and she was still determined to escape at the first opportunity.

  But to do so would not be easy. She had come to realize that the castle was well guarded at all times, though there were moments when the gatehouse was unmanned, as the soldiers made their patrol of the ramparts. She would need to find a moment when the gates were open, and the guards were absent in order to affect her escape. That, or find a way to slip out unseen, perhaps amongst the many visitors who were now arriving.

  It was Christmas Eve, and she had just emerged from the library with a book under her arm, as Callum came bounding along the corridor to greet her.

  “Ye must get ready for the feast,” he said, smiling at her.

  “Aye, I shall. I have been readin’ of Christmases past,” she said, holding up the book to him.

  “The tradition of the yule log goes back many years, I understand,” Callum said, “I remember when I was a boy watchin’ it dragged through the courtyard. For a wee lad it was excitin’ to see it burn, I still love to see it.”

  “Aye, I am sure it will be a spectacle,” she replied, and they walked together towards the Great Hall.

  Already, many of the guests had taken their seats, and the servants were busy bringing in platters of meats and pastries. There was all manner of good things to eat and Una hurried upstairs to make herself ready, as Callum began to greet his guests.

  In her chambers, she found a new gown laid out for her on the bed. It was a gift from Callum and she felt a twinge in her heart at the thought of his kindness, given what she intended to do. He had been nothing but good to her and now she intended to
escape. It would leave him heartbroken and for a moment she wondered just what her own feelings were towards him. Was he more than a jailer? She thought back to the past few months and the times they had spent together walking and talking in the forests or sitting by the fire in the library.

  Her mind had always been on escape, but as she had come to know more of him, she could not help but like him. He was kind and there was a generosity to him which seemed entirely genuine. She had sensed he wished their situation were different, that she had come to Gilloch Castle of her own free will, rather than as the result of that cruel and heartless card game. Might she have fallen in love with him, if the circumstances were different? Had she fallen in love with him …?

  She glanced out of the window and down in the courtyard she could see all manner of carts, peasants milling in and out around them, as they prepared for the celebrations. She had never seen the courtyard so busy and despite the darkness, flaming torches allowed her to see that the gates to the castle were wide open. If she left there and then she could easily mingle amongst the crowd and slip through the gate.

  Her heart began beating fast. It was one thing to imagine herself escaping and see in her mind’s eye a return to the Gordon castle. But to actually accomplish it? That was quite another matter. She glanced around at the dress laid out upon the bed and sighed. This could be her only chance and she hurried to the clothes chest in the corner of the room, drawing out a cloak and tunic and wrapping herself up against the cold.

  She would have little time to affect her plan and wrapping a shawl around her head she stole out into the passageway. By now, many of the guests had descended to the Great Hall and she could the noise of revelry coming from below, as she hurried downstairs. To get to the courtyard she could either pass the Great Hall or take a circuitous route by the library. If she passed the Great Hall, then she was bound to be seen and instead she turned left towards the library, hiding herself in a doorway, as voices came towards her.