Some in the crowd started to laugh, but Thanna could think of nothing but his brutality. She picked up a stone, threw it and hit him in the jaw. Then another woman picked up a stone. Her arm was stronger, her aim was better and the rock slammed into his nose causing him to stagger back and cry out in pain.
But Neil raised his hand before any more women could stone him. “It is not an easy thing for a woman to bear the guilt of having killed someone. He deserves to be executed, but the lads will see to it.”
“Thank you, MacGreagor!” a man shouted. Other men joined in and soon the crowd cheered.
Again Neil raised his hand. “There is much to do. First, we must bury the dead, then you must choose a new laird and if the women are so inclined, we would appreciate a fine meal.”
“It will be a feast!” Catlin shouted. She gathered her skirts and hurried inside the gate followed by all but one of the women. Thanna grabbed one more rock, hurled it at Lammond and then darted away.
“We want you to be our Laird, MacGreagor. You could come home and we could combine our two clans.” The lad’s request was met with emphatic nods from the other Cameron men and slaps on the back.
Neil smiled. “We have a new home now and it is very pleasing. However, I might suggest someone to lead you. He is a strong lad who is fair minded, trained in the ways of the MacGreagors and just as capable of leading you as I am.”
“Who?”
“His name is Luag MacGreagor.” Neil quickly turned to see the look of total surprise on Luag’s face. “You have been my away second for many months and you are an honorable lad. Stay with them at least until they find another. Who knows, perhaps you might prefer them and they might decide to keep you. If not, you always have a home with us.”
Luag scratched the side of his beard that was just beginning to grow long enough and then looked at the faces of the eager Camerons. “Do all of you agree?” He was surprised when they nodded and somewhere inside he found the opportunity exciting. “Then I will stay for now.”
“What is your first command?” asked Neil.
Luag did not hesitate. “Gather your weapons and bring the guards out. None who have sided with Laird Cameron will be allowed to live.”
In a rush, the men obeyed, first running inside the Keep to get their swords and then to the cottages where their captives waited. Some of the captives, they noticed, managed to escape and run away. But in the end, they marched seventeen unarmed men, with their hands tied behind their backs, out through the gates. Two men picked up the weeping Lammond and dragged him off with the others to be executed near the Cameron cemetery.
Finally, it was finished.
THE EVENING MEAL WAS indeed a feast, the people drank and danced to the music of a flute, the children played and every face had a smile on it.
“It is fresh air like no other,” Catlin said.
Vallam did not realize she was standing next to him and he turned to smile at her. “I can only imagine what it was like before.” He watched the dancing, and then two boys chasing each other caught his attention. “Catlin, will you walk with me?”
“Aye.” By his side, she walked through the open gate and started down the road.
He wanted to take her hand, but he had not touched her since the day she ran into his arms and he was unsure she would welcome it. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back. Often in their travels, she looked at him, but that was all and he had no way of knowing if she felt anything for him other than gratitude. Still, he had to know before it drove him daft. “What will you do now?”
She did not quickly answer. “I am torn. These are my people and I love them, yet...”
“Go on.”
“The MacGreagors have fine new land with less possibility of war, or so it seems. I detest war almost as much as I detest lads who cry.”
He nodded. “I confess I am not fond of lads who cry either and the MacGreagors would cast out any lad who does. We cannot afford weakness.”
“That is what I mean. It is far more pleasing for a lass to be surrounded by strong lads on good land, who will see they have strong and healthy children. Even the hunting is better there.”
“You could always come back to visit the Camerons from time to time.”
“True, there is that.”
“Then you will go back with us?”
She had a twinkle in her eye when she answered. “Aye.” Then she remembered there was still the unresolved question and her smile faded. Did she want to be the Queen of England? Did she have a choice in the matter, after all, if that situation was not resolved, the king would continue to look for her. If only she had someone to talk to, someone she could trust who would help her think it through.
She promised Neil she would not tell anyone, but that was only to protect her and she was sure Vallam would do nothing to bring her harm. Besides, how long could it be before her secret was known? Already there were four MacGreagors who knew and if Neil remembered who her mother really was, then others must as well.
Suddenly, she grabbed Vallam’s hand. “Come with me.”
He was thrilled she wanted to touch him. But then she took him to the cemetery, which was not his idea of a good place to spend a fine Scottish evening. At least she passed the new graves and headed down the hill toward the older ones. She let go of his hand, plucked two wild flowers out of the ground and laid one on a grave. “This is where my father rests.” She moved to the next grave and laid the other flower down. “And this is my mother.” She turned to closely watch his face. “My mother’s name was Bridget Cameron.”
Catlin saw no flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Her name was also, “Charlet.”
Vallam’s mouth dropped open. “The lass who turned down the throne of England?”
“Aye.” She paused to let him get used to the idea. “They tell me she turned it down to marry my father.”
“They must have loved each other a great deal.”
“That is what they tell me. I have yet to know that kind of love, but I hope someday to find it.”
“So do I.” This time he looked deep into her eyes hoping to see some reaction, but there was none so he looked away. Perhaps she did have a heart of stone as Thomas said.
“Have you heard the king of England is looking for Charlet?”
“Aye.”
“He means to kill her. But once more my mother robs them of their English desires.” Catlin found a log and sat down. “However...”
“Catlin, are you saying the English will search for you?”
“I am the only remaining child. The smaller graves are those of my brothers and sisters, all lost in the plague.”
He was stunned and hardly knew what to say. “What do you intend to do?”
“Therein lies the problem. I do not know. Have you a suggestion?”
He managed to seat himself next to her, stretch out his legs and fold his arms before he answered. “Your mother hid successfully, perhaps you can also.”
“Aye but what kind of life can it be? Always I would wonder if the English were coming.” Catlin unexpectedly giggled, “Mother was so protective of us I thought she was half out of her mind. Now, of course, I understand why and I do not want to do that to my children? I can think of no other answer than to face the English and resolve this issue once and for all.”
He did not know what to say and for a time they sat together on the log, each lost in thought until the sun began to set and Catlin stood up. “So you see, it would not be wise for a Highlander to fall in love with me.”
He stood up also and bowed his head. “But for this Highlander, it is too late.”
She was not surprised. Anyone could see how he felt about her. “Please, do not make this more difficult than it already is.” Catlin turned and walked away.
CHAPTER X
ANXIOUS TO GET HOME, the MacGreagors stayed only two more days to make sure all was set for Luag to take over. Early on the morning of the third day, Neil visited the place where his Au
nt Rachel and Uncle Connor were buried. Then they all went to see what happened to the old MacGreagor home.
Just as Thomas said, it was haunted. As soon as they rode to the top of the hill where they could look down into the small valley they stopped. It was so quiet, it truly did unnerve Neil. Even the birds seemed to have lost their song. Everything inside the wall still looked burned except for a few plants that managed to break through the rubble to begin new life. What was left of the Keep and the wall appeared to be slowly crumbling. The cottages in the distance were deserted and there was not a man, woman, child or animal in sight.
However, there was one very apparent change. It appeared the MacDonalds finally managed to divert the water, causing the moat to completely dry up and the loch in the distance to become little more than a creek. Neil smiled and wondered just how long the English would hold their ire over the lack of water flowing to them.
At length, he led the others down the hill and once he found the path, he turned toward the graveyard. It might have been a far more somber occasion had Julia and Thomas not been arguing.
“Aye, but where is Dara?” Julia taunted. “You said you would make her your wife and bring her with us.”
Thomas puffed his cheeks. “She is otherwise detained.”
“Detained how?”
“I do not care to say.”
Neil dismounted and was relieved to find the graves of his beloved family had not been disturbed. For just a moment, he stood in front of Anna’s place of rest, bowed his head and said a prayer, during which everyone was quiet. However, the second he finished crossing himself and lifted his head, the argument continued.
Thomas glared at his sister, “If you must know, I did not marry Dara because her husband would not let me.”
Neil laughed and got back on his horse. “I see no reason to linger here, we...”
“I do,” Thomas countered.
“What?”
“I found the most wonderful apple tree when...”
“I forgot about the apple tree.” It took only a few moments to ride across the meadow and the road, and then turn up the path to the loch. Still seated on their horses and thrilled with the find, all the MacGreagors began to fill their sacks with ripe, red apples.
“I just thought of something,” Thomas said once they left the old land of the MacGreagors and headed home. “Do you suppose by now rumor has reached Laird MacDonald and he is cowering under his bed convinced the MacGreagor ghost will come for him next?”
FOR VALLAM, THERE WAS no greater torture than being near Catlin and not being able to touch her. At night as they made their way home he often laid on his side facing her just in case she reached out. But she did not. Occasionally, she glanced at him but just as quickly looked away. It was obvious she meant what she said and his heart was breaking.
HE THOUGHT IT WOULD be better once they were home, but it was not. Catlin was so close yet so far from him and at times, he thought he would lose his mind. There was nothing to do but keep busy, so he trained with Walrick, helped build the cottages and then collapsed into bed hoping to sleep. But even sleep eluded him and every night he turned on his side to face the direction he knew her to be.
Catlin avoided Vallam and with Luag gone, she rarely went for a walk. But there were still occasions when they met on a path and she could not help but look into his eyes. She saw just a glint of sadness and it hurt her to know she could not ease his pain.
Still, her decision was not yet made. Daily, it seemed there was word of some new atrocity the English king brought down on his own people and Jessup was anxious for her to reveal herself to the world. But the question of how precisely to do that without endangering all of Scotland had no answer. The weight of two nations rested squarely on her shoulders and she hated every bit of it. Even Neil could not guess what to do.
Slipping into England was not the problem, protection once she got there was. She would need an army capable of overthrowing the king’s men and although possible, it would take considerable time to gather one. To build an army, she would need to reveal who she was and that would only encourage the English king to seek her out and try to kill her.
The real question was, as Jessup pointed out,—being half-English, did Catlin care enough about the English children to risk her life? It would have been a far easier decision had Jessup not mentioned children and Catlin’s heart was truly divided.
Perhaps the answer might have come more easily if Catlin could concentrate, but she thought only of Vallam—his touch, his voice, his arms around her and the look she saw in his eyes. His eyes haunted her until she thought she would lose her mind. Only at night when she could turn on her side and face the direction she knew him to be, could she find any comfort at all.
Every waking moment she charged herself to make up her mind, but she could not. One thing she knew for sure, she would never pass this curse down to her children. Going to England was the only way to be done with it, even if it cost Catlin her life. Her mind knew it to be true, but her heart simply would not allow her to leave.
Then a messenger came from the land of the MacPhearson with the news. It was confirmed, the new king of England was dead, murdered in his bed by a woman. As soon as she heard, Catlin turned on her heels and started to run. She went first to Vallam’s cottage, but he was not there. She raced down the path to the end of the cottages, shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight and then scanned the men in training with Walrick. Again, he was not there. She could not think what to do next and was about to head off in another direction when she heard his voice behind her.
“Please say you are looking for me.”
Catlin turned and threw herself into his strong arms. “Have you heard? England has a new king and Jessup says he is a good lad. I am free finally and I do love you. I love you very much.” She felt his arms tighten around her and then he begin to swing her around. Soon she was laughing and crying at the same time. So great was her joy, she kissed his neck repeatedly.
Then he stopped and looked down into the glorious green eyes that were finally his.
Slowly he lowered his lips to hers.
-end-
LASHA
CHAPTER I
COWAN HEARD THE FAINT cry of what he thought might be a child. The sun was high in the sky, a welcome sight after two days of rain, and for the last hour, he had been following the muddy tracks of several deer. At first when he heard the cry he thought it was a cat for they often made that sort of sound, but as he grew closer he feared otherwise. He had gone farther south than he normally did on the hunt, had not seen anyone else since early morning and if it was a child it was certainly a long way from home.
Finally close enough, Cowan MacGreagor cautiously slid down off his horse and tied his stallion to the branch of a tree. He was well aware he could be walking into a trap and pulled his dagger just in case. It would not be the first time the imitation of a child’s cry drew a man to his death. Slowly and quietly he eased through the thick forest foliage and crept closer to the sound.
Abruptly the crying stopped.
Cowan quickly crouched behind a bush and waited. Then the crying began again and this time the child cried out for its mother. At least now, he knew for certain it was a child. Determined, he glanced around to make sure he was not about to be attacked and then started forward again until he could see the top of the child’s head.
Once more, he crouched down behind a bush and then he slowly parted it to get a better look. It was a boy of not more than two or three with tears streaking down his dirty face—and he was hopelessly stuck. The loose threads of his kilt were tangled in a bush and it appeared the more the boy struggled, the more his kilt came unraveled and wound around the bush.
Still concerned it was a trap, Cowan glanced around once more, stood up, hurried to the child and quickly cut him free. Then he scooped the boy into his arms and swiftly carried him back to his horse. He wanted to set the boy down to check for injuries, but the boy had his litt
le arms around Cowan’s neck and was desperately clinging to him.
“There now laddie, you are safe.” Cowan tried to set him down again, but still the little boy would not let go and for a man who loved children and wanted many of his own, it was the greatest feeling in the world.
Cowan was a man of large stature with wavy, shoulder length blond hair which he normally wore tied back. His eyes were blue, his face was oval-shaped and he prided himself on keeping his beard and mustache neatly trimmed. He was a MacGreagor and he wore the predominately green kilt of his clan, but the little boy did not. Instead, he wore the red kilt of a Haldane.
Most MacGreagors believed there was something amiss with the Haldanes for in all the months since they came to live in the valley, the Haldanes had not spoken a word to any of them. Haldane warriors were often seen in the forest watching the MacGreagors, particularly when they practiced their warrior skills, but never had they come close enough to speak. They did not appear to be hostile either so the MacGreagors just let them watch.
Just the same, such quiet neighbors were unsettling and Neil often sent men to watch them too. That was before they discovered how small in numbers the Haldane were. Some guessed as few as forty not counting the children, yet they were a lively bunch and always the scouts came back with entertaining stories of what they had seen.
Not all the MacGreagors believed the wild stories and Cowan was one of them. His first thought was to take the boy to Laird MacGreagor, but the Haldane might think he kidnapped him, so the only answer was to take him home.
Cowan continued to rub the little boy’s back to calm him down, “Are you thirsty?” He felt the nod and this time when he tried to set him down the boy let go. He untied his water flask and by the way the boy greedily drank and the way he smelled, it was clear he had been lost for quite a while. It was also clear the child was about to go to sleep so Cowan put away the flask. He pulled an extra plaid out of his sack, wrapped the child up, set him on the horse and then swung up behind him. A full hour later, he urged his horse up to the crest of a hill, stopped and got his first look at the Haldane village.
Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Volume 5 Page 14