"HEAR YE, ALL PEOPLE OF CLAN MACKRANNAN!" the Bard shouted to a packed courtyard scarce an hour after the Chief read the letters.
"WE ASSEMBLE THIS DAY to discuss the matter of Ranald, chieftain of Clan MacKrannan, and the Lady Elinor Keirston, a widow foisted upon him to wife by the king of Scots."
The clan was in uproar at the king's decision, and a hasty meeting in the Vault between the bloodline and the Bard and the three Wisewomen had led to this assembly being called.
"MUCH RUMOUR has been told of the circumstance, and I am here to tell ye the truth of the matter, as told to His Majesty... "
Ranald and Elinor had written this part, but the Bard told the tale in his own way, aware of his supreme power in swaying opinion in the Lady Elinor's direction. He liked her fine, and the chieftain obviously liked her fine as well, and she was exactly the kind of wife a future Chief should have. And he'd be damned if the king or any man would lose them Ranald as chieftain.
Facts were facts. Opinion came from the telling of the story. It was all in the phrasing and the extras, and he had now arrived at the clincher.
"…And this husband who so NEGLECTED his wife that he left her a VIRGIN WIDOW was none other than SIR ALAIN DOUGLAS OF FORDNETHAN…"
The name brought a roar of contempt from the crowd.
"…Loud ye may jeer, for this was the verra same man who left our chieftain Ranald for dead at the Siege of Drumallager and whose blatant INCOMPETENCE caused SIX OF OUR MEN TO BE KILLED there."
Another roar of disgust.
"And after Douglas's death the Lady Elinor FOUGHT STURDILY to keep her people safe from the English…"
By the time the Bard had finished the background story, the clansfolk were well acquaint with Elinor's supreme efforts to care for her people in extenuating circumstances, having been left in charge of a vast property in a battlezone, and willing to sacrifice her good self by marrying the much older Earl of Maxton only for the protection he could afford them all.
"…And the king for all his wisdom knew naught of our Tradition that any bride of the MacKrannan bloodline must be virgin on her wedding day, and her blood witnessed, and THUS WE ARE IN A STRAMASH!"
The Bard was determined that Ranald conceding to his younger brother would no' even be considered as one of the solutions. The problem had been put to the Wisewomen and a much better idea instantly came forth as if by sorcery.
"…So the three Wisewomen were consulted, and their answer is this. We cannot change the rule for the Coupling of the Chieftain. What we can change instead is the Lord's Right of the First Night.
"And for Ranald and the Lady Elinor's services in the matter, the Tradition known as the Coupling of the Chieftain will be omitted in this instance, and in this instance only, and RANALD WILL REMAIN OUR CHIEFTAIN…"
Wild applause broke out, and they had no' even heard the detail yet.
"…THE LORD'S RIGHT of the First Night began in the mists of time when a virgin's blood was seen as a DIRTY thing, and the ritual deflowering of women a duty done by the bravest or the most spiritually protected, and that was the head of the tribe or the priest.
"And in our centuries of learnings, mankind has come to believe a virgin's blood to be A GOOD THING, and that a virgin bride brings such excellent fortune that all want to rub shoulders with her so that her luck may be passed on, and men will now pay a penny to kiss a bride just to share in that luck."
The Bard paused a moment to let it sink in that beliefs changed over the years, for he was about to announce a paradigm shift. He waited until the clansfolk had discussed the last bit amongst themselves and gotten to the stage of nodding, then continued.
"BUT STILL the Lord's Right continues, and no command ever comes from the lawmakers to desist, for it is accepted in all countries, both civilized and savage, and in baser forms than our own.
"AFTER CONSULTATION between the bloodline and the three Wisewomen, it has been decided to make profound alteration to the custom foist upon us and widely known as the Lord's Right of the First Night or jus primae noctis or droit du seigneur, which is now and forever tainted on MacKrannan lands.
"Henceforth we will convert it into one of our own MacKrannan Secret Traditions. It will be renamed the BRIDE'S RIGHT OF THE FIRST NIGHT, and the rules wholly and utterly changed, and it is in this matter that Ranald and the Lady Elinor will be of service to the clan in exchange for abstaining from the Coupling of the Chieftain.
"And I now call upon the Grandam Wisewomen to tell ye more about it."
Hessa the Grandam walked forward to take the Bard's place, and the train of her ceremonial robes caught up with her just as the crowd settled and she began to speak.
"HEAR YE, ALL PEOPLE OF CLAN MACKRANNAN! The rules for the Lord's Right within our clan were set by men outwith our clan and revised by our Chiefs until the brides no longer wept. It is only by the expertise of our current Chief and his sons that our brides nowadays do no' mind it TOO much…"
Hessa's smile included raising her eyebrows rapidly up and down and daring any to disagree. Scarcely a bride existed who had not compared the prowess of the MacKrannan Chief or his sons to the inexperienced clansmen they'd married. They were assured of a lifetime of love ahead, once their lads got the hang of things, but on their wedding night they wanted to enjoy a special hour or three in a fancy room in the castle… or overnight if they could keep from blissing long enough.
The power had subtly shifted from the Lord's Right to the Bride's Right many years ago. Ranald and Elinor's problem was a gift from the heavens, for it gave the excuse to set a more formal arrangement.
"HOWEVER… The Tradition of the Bride's Right will be radically different. As ye all know, a woman's clenching is a grand help for fertility, and such clenching is only achieved when a couple have some clue what they are about…"
Hessa did not expect any reaction from the crowd, for none among them would dare to be boastful, and even fewer would admit ignorance of what 'clenching' meant.
"On her wedding night, the Bride will now OFFICIALLY be taught how to please her husband and how her bliss is achieved, so that she might show her own man how it is done, and no' put up with just lying there and fumbling, and thus the Bride's Night will benefit the clan for all time…"
Much oohhing and aahhing was heard from the crowd.
"…And in this respect, myself and the other two Wisewomen will direct Ranald and Elinor's research and development for the common good, and a record made of it, and the service provider standard set thereafter for the client brides, both resident and incoming. ALL SAY AYE?"
"AYE!" shouted the crowd, not quite sure of what they were agreeing to, but knowing that Hessa the Grandam Wisewoman was never wrong about such matters.
Ranald and Elinor were wed the next morn.
It was a quiet ceremony with neither feasting nor Coupling of the Chieftain. Indeed, as they had already coupled before the wedding, the Wisewomen insisted they keep to their own rooms without coupling further, all the better to prepare themselves for their arduous service development task.
They would have to do it well, for the Bride's Right would concern every bride within the clan or marrying into it for all time to come – even widows, if they were of childbearing age. In some money-grabbing cultures the head of the tribe would accept coin instead of the bride on her wedding night. The MacKrannans had never accepted such coin, being infinitely more old-fashioned in their outlook than most of their sort, and thinking themselves quite liberated in the way they refused to take the bride for three nights as was common elsewhere.
When Ranald was told what he must do, he said, "Ballocks to that, for a start!"
And the Wisewomen told him to think on it as servitude to the clan for the trouble he had caused in the way he'd allowed himself to be tricked.
"Allowed myself… and could ye tell me in what way I could have avoided it?"
And the Wisewomen reminded him that the Lady Elinor could have easily been an enemy spy! An assassin
in the chieftain's bedchamber! Just down the corridor from the Chief! Everyone in the castle could have been murdered in their beds! Did he see that now…?
"We have guards, have we no'?" came his dour reply.
And the Wisewomen reminded him that the guards were stationed at the foot of the stairs to the family's quarters and not outside their each and every bedchamber, and that considering an imposter had been in and out the chieftain's bed and him naked and unarmed, did he wish to argue the point further?
Ranald chose not to.
Elinor needed no reminding of how she had gone about the business in entirely the wrong way. When she was told what she must do, she sat down abruptly and asked for strong drink. And then she took her horse out for a gallop across the moors.
She never left MacKrannan lands. The king having forfeited Keirston and Fordnethan, there was no longer anywhere else for her to go. She returned to the castle stables in infinitely better mood than she'd left, having resolved to do her service with fortitude and goodwill.
She was a Lady. A Lady could be wed to any man ranked from knight to king. Being wed to a chieftain was pushing the lower limit, but at least he would be Chief someday. She had better do her service to the Tradition of the Bride's Right extremely well, because being wed to a chieftain's younger brother would be too horrifyingly far down the social ladder.
Ranald was detained further in Hessa the Grandam's cottage. He would have preferred galloping across the moors with his bride to being grilled on the optimum methods of deflowering one.
"Ye do see the difference, milord?" said Ishbel. "The Bride's Right will go far beyond yer duty of maidenhead removal. It will be a treat for the lassies."
"I have always tried to make it pleasurable," said Ranald, becoming even more dour by the minute.
"So ye say, and yet the lassie ye believed to be the Swordmaker's Bride was in yer chamber much less than one hour," said Hessa, hands on hips.
"…And ye bade her sit astride ye for the taking of the maidenhead," Beatrix added, wagging her finger.
"Nay, it just happened that I combined the breach with part of her tutoring. A way to comfort her man when he is too weary at day's end to spend without her help."
It sounded poor excuse even to Ranald's own ears and he could no' blame Elinor for blabbing. The three Wisewomen had already questioned them both closely on how he had gone about his last Lord's Right duty. He'd done most of the talking to spare her the ordeal. As wedding days went, this one had no' been much use to his bride as it was.
Notes were taken throughout by Ishbel, for the record, they said, just to see where performance improvements could be made. Elinor and the Wisewomen had already consulted past brides to evaluate the current Lord's Right Service Providers. Ranald and his father the Chief were graded in a points system in terms of warmth of welcome, hospitality offered, bedchamber ambience, persuasive methods used, optimum positioning, time allocated, bride satisfaction and much more. These performance markers and the surplus data would be used to set the benchmarks for the Bride's Right.
The whole affair was bloody ridiculous. Hell's sodding pit, they'd be measuring his cockstand next.
"And there is the size of yer lustful condition to consider," said Ishbel, going onto the next item on her list. "Yer last bride was fairly small in stature, compared to yerself, that is. Could ye tell us what methods ye would usually employ with a virgin when her substantially lesser height must be factored in?"
From his position on the wee stool they'd allocated him, Ranald took a hard look at each of them on their high chairs. Not a flicker of amusement was visible.
He put thought into his answer. Whatever he said would be written down, and he wanted to make sure of setting a good example to his great-grandsons should they ever come to read this in the Vault.
"I believed her already broken in, as well ye know, else I would no' have dropped her down my length so hasty."
"Milord, ye have no' really answered the question," said Beatrix.
"I'm coming to that!"
"Again," said Ishbel, "What methods do ye usually employ with smaller brides?"
"Well… usually I would make a manual check for a maidenhead first, to spare asking such a question of them, and they're always going to say they're virgin anyway, whether they are or no', but I was wearied that day and forgot…"
"Ah-HAAH!" Hessa cut in. "Ye forgot the manual check! Ye did no' tell us this in yer earlier account of the deed, milord."
"Some of it is still a blur. I had just returned from the Cambel uprising, if ye recall, and had no' slept in days."
"Did ye tell the bride that?" said Beatrix. "Did ye ask her help in keeping ye correct?"
"Nay, but she seemed to know what…"
"Ye have still no' answered the question," Ishbel interrupted. "What methods do ye use with smaller brides?"
"I do no' like wasting them with my size, ye see, so I usually…"
"Yer methods, milord?"
Ranald finally snapped.
"Ready her well, spread her wide and go in easy – unless ye have any better suggestion!"
"Aye, we do," said Hessa. "Oil. Same as we use for birthing mothers to save them tearing."
Ranald rose from the stool, uncramped his legs and scratched his neck. This was too much information for a lone man among three women, wise or no', though he appreciated their honesty.
Oil…? Aye, he could see how that would be a help at times for the ones short on height or difficult to calm. Best for it to be close at hand in the bedchamber, too, for a bride could hardly be expected to bring her own bottle.
Beatrix was about to speak again when Hessa the Grandam stilled her…
The chieftain is coming round to our way of thinking… Let us leave him alone for a minute...
The three Wisewomen so quietened themselves it was as if they had disappeared. Ranald paced the room, picking up a goddess statuette here, a lump of white quartz there, burning his wrist on a candle he didn't realize was lit, and pacing again until his thoughts were clear.
"There should be a special bedchamber kept for this. Deck it out nice for the lassies. And could ye get rid of that old chemise they all wear? It is degrading for them to wear such a rag. Give them a prettier one."
"Consider it done, milord," said Hessa.
"The wee solar in the east wing is now called The Bower of the Bride's Right," said Ishbel.
Ranald was puzzled at the timing. "But this Bride's Right thing was only announced yestreen."
"It was," said Hessa. "And within the same announcement that kept ye as chieftain, too… now, have ye a preference for these chemises? I'm saying chemises, for each bride should have new, and I'm thinking on silk."
"The dressmaker has sent over some samples," said Beatrix. "Have a look at this."
Ranald beheld the gownie she fetched out from its package. A creamy white with blue floral stitching, and buttoned top to bottom.
"Much better," said he, thinking it was fancier than many brides could afford for their actual wedding frock. "And aye, they can take it away with them."
"Good. We'll try this one out the morn when Ginny and Dougall are wed. It is yerself will be performing the Bride's Right Tradition, as part of the research. We have the Chief's agreement to use the occasion as a client interface test."
A chill passed through Ranald at the Grandam Wisewoman's use of one particular word, and it was with a modicum of trepidation that he said "TRADITION?"
"Aye, milord. Did ye no' hear the Bard at the clan assembly?" said Ishbel. "The new Bride's Right will be one of our MacKrannan Secret Traditions."
"And therefore witnessed." said the warrior known throughout the land for his bravery, just as the color of his face changed towards that of the new silk chemise. "Hell's pit… who?"
Hessa said, "We thought it appropriate that yer wife accompany us. Her comments will be of much value, herself having recent experience of ye in the Lord's Right."
Beatrix said, "But G
inny and Dougall's wedding is a day away yet. We shall start the research and testing of the bower with Lady Elinor tonight, again with the Chief's agreement."
Ishbel said, "Rest easy, milord. Ye will not be called to witness along with us. Yer mother has kindly consented, to spare ye."
Lady Agatha had seen much in her time as wife to Sir Thommas, Chief of the Name of MacKrannan, yet it was for the first that she beheld him take any extra care with his appearance before this particular duty. They had been bathed together in the same tub by Hessa. Special incantations were said by way of a cleansing ritual, and Hessa had given her a ceremonial robe to wear which was not unlike her own Grandam Wisewoman design.
Agatha could not count the number of times Thommas had performed the Lord's Right of the First Night between their own wedding day and their sons growing old enough to take a turn and give their father a well-earned rest. She must ask the Bard to consult the record sometime, just out of curiosity. She felt a tinge of regret that the old ways must make way for the new, but such was progress, and this Bride's Right was certainly innovative.
As a mother, she could only be profoundly grateful to the Wisewomen for any way whatsoever of keeping Ranald's birthright as chieftain. As a woman, she could not help thinking the whole power shift from the lord to the bride could only be a good thing.
She fluffed and smoothed the three eagle feathers in her husband's bonnet and reached up to place it lovingly on his head.
"I shall think of ye, as always," said Sir Thommas, as he always said at this point.
"Keep yer mind on the job ye always do so well," said Lady Agatha, as she always answered at this point. "Thommas, would it be alright if I brought my tapestry along to give me something to do?"
"I think no', my dear. Best pay attention, for ye might be asked questions later. What say ye on that, Hessa?"
"Yer input will be as valuable as the Chief's, I assure ye, milady."
Duty of the Chieftain - a Highland 'Lord's Right of the First Night' novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions #3) Page 5