'But he would not therefore poison her,' Blanche objected.
'I cannot tell!' John paced worriedly up and down. 'Anyone could have slipped a poisoned sweetmeat into that box, not only Colin. Mayhap it was not meant to kill, just to frighten, so Fiona would be more willing to be persuaded by him. Or, if what I think is true, he might have been ruthless enough to contemplate killing Colin and all his children too!'
'John, that would be too much!' Blanche protested 'No one would believe them all to be accidents!'
'It has been done. The Highlands are wild, Blanche. But if only Colin were dead, he might claim the chieftainship by saying his sons were not old enough to rule. There are so many possibilities!'
'You also suspect he abducted her?'
'How else explain his man was in the party? He gave a suspicious reason for that, which I did not believe. He must be growing impatient.'
Blanche wondered how much of his suspicion was the result of jealousy, as he thought of a possible marriage between his adored Fiona and the hated Alexander, but she had to confess she was herself uncertain of his innocence. Soon, however, they were all concerned with the promised visit to Colin. John begged Fiona to cancel the visit. Alexander ordered her not to go. And Janet declared no one should separate her from her duty and she would accompany her mistress if she had to crawl all her way on hands and knees.
'Beset by them all, I wish I could abandon the whole idea!' Fiona confided in Blanche, half laughing, half angry.
'Why do you not? John is right in saying your journey would be another opportunity for an attack or abduction. And Janet fears another poison attempt.'
'If Colin or Katriona were responsible for the first one, they would never dare try again while I was with them,' Fiona declared, but Blanche was unconvinced, and argued until Fiona laughingly promised she would not eat or drink anything but what her aunt and uncle also tasted.
'Or what Janet prepares, for you will take her with you, will you not?' Blanche added, and Fiona nodded.
'We shall have so many guardians Colin's house will be overflowing. He will not again press me to visit them so urgently!'
That night at supper, John, who was still unreconciled to the visit, again expressed his disquiet. Patiently Fiona repeated that the little Margaret had a right to know the cousin who was her chieftain as well as her godmother.
'Then send for the child and have her here,' Alexander said curtly. 'You must not go.'
'Must? You order me?' Fiona said dangerously quietly, but her eyes glittering in anger.
'I say what everyone else thinks.'
'But they advise, not order!'
'Your gallant steward agrees with me,' Alexander pointed out.
'I but offer an opinion,' John said stiffly, and Alexander laughed.
'And is it not a personal wish, as mine is?'
'My personal wishes are irrelevant,' John said angrily, and Alexander gazed mockingly across the table at him.
Fiona intervened. 'I appreciate you both have my best interests in view,' she said calmly, having mastered her anger.
'I shall take several of my most trusted menservants with me, under you, John. Will you arrange to leave twenty or so to guard the castle? Does that content you both? Alex, I would ask you to remain in charge at the castle here. Now let there be no further argument, for my mind is quite made up.'
When she spoke with such finality both men recognised the indomitable spirit of her father and capitulated. John nodded, but Alexander could not forbear to warn that she would regret it.
'Is that a threat?' she demanded, her anger rising to the surface again. As she grew angry, he grew correspondingly calm, and laughed mockingly.
'My dear cousin, I am well aware your faithful steward here harbours the utmost suspicions of me, but I did not know he had been so successful in poisoning your mind against me.'
John, furiously angry, sprang to his feet, but a sharp word from Fiona made him bite back the words he had been about to fling at his tormentor. Fiona turned to Lady Emrey and made some remark to do with the welfare of one of the servants, and John sat back slowly, Alexander regarding him with some amusement from under discreetly lowered eyelids. The meal was completed in a strained atmosphere, and immediately afterwards John excused himself on the pretence of having preparations to make for the visit.
The next few days passed with the two young men in a state of almost open hostility, avoiding all but the most essential contacts, and Fiona confessed she would be thankful to get away from the castle so that they would be separated.
'When does your cousin return to his own home?' Blanche asked. 'It is odd he remains here.'
Fiona shrugged. 'I do not know what his plans are. He always spent a great deal of time here as a boy, for his mother died when he was born, and he had no brothers or sisters. Then he was not quite ten when his father was killed. He has always looked upon it as his home and has made no mention of what he plans to do now the wars are over and he cannot go off soldiering. He has the most lovely castle, set high on a hillside and commanding two valleys. I hope he means to settle down soon and live there.'
*
They made their preparations and then, the day before they were due to start, Lady Emrey fell down some stairs and hurt her leg. Unable to walk, she needed company and attention, and Blanche insisted on staying behind with her, despite her mother's protests that there was no need.
She waved goodbye to the cavalcade in the courtyard, then ran to the topmost battlements of the highest tower to watch the procession wind its way down the hill and through the town, where the townsfolk stood to wave to their chieftain, and then across the flat land beside the loch. It was a brave sight, with Fiona riding ahead of almost fifty of her clansmen, and the numerous baggage ponies bringing up the rear. The scarlet and green plaids of the men cut a swathe across the ground, where a light fall of snow had covered the grass and the heather. Shining in the weak winter sunlight, the swords of the men gleamed brightly, edging the mass of colour with glistening wetness, causing Blanche to think suddenly of blood. She shivered, and a deep chuckle came from behind her. Swinging round she saw Alexander leaning against the door that led to the stairs.
He unfastened his sheepskin jacket and strolled across to her, dropping it about her shoulders.
'You seem to make it a habit, going without cloaks,' he said with a laugh, and Blanche grew confused as she recalled that time, when he had held her so closely to him on his horse.
She pulled the heavy jacket close about her, grateful for the warmth, but spoke hurriedly.
'I had not really noticed the cold,' she said in surprise. 'I shivered because suddenly they looked like a gigantic wound, oozing blood.'
'You are fanciful. But what did happen to your cloak that day?'
'I cannot remember. It was wet, and at first I carried it, but I was so tired I cannot remember half of what happened. I must have dropped it.'
They continued to talk of trivial matters, and Blanche studied Alexander unobtrusively. He could be a most entertaining companion, she conceded, when he made the effort. Was he really the villain she half suspected?
The next week passed peacefully. Spending most of her time with her mother and taking her meals in her mother's apartments, Blanche saw very little of Alexander, but he seemed to appear whenever she walked on the terrace or climbed up to the tower, and she grew to look forward to these meetings, for by mutual unspoken consent they avoided all contentious topics and spent much time comparing life in England and Scotland.
Alexander was steeped in the history of the Highlands and gave Blanche an enthusiasm for it she had never before felt. She realised how enormously proud of his ancestors he was, and how passionately he felt about the continued independence of the clan. The only flaw in her enjoyment of these meetings was the thought his friendliness might be assumed in order to disarm her.
One morning Blanche had been walking for almost half an hour on the terrace and Alexander had not joined
her, which was odd, for however she varied the time of these airings and wherever she went he always seemed to know and come to her. She felt an unreasonable sense of disappointment, mingled with chagrin, and chided herself for being taken in by pleasant manners and a handsome face. But the feeling persisted, and she determined to climb the tower. She told herself sternly she was not looking for him, but the view from the terraces was limited, whereas from the tower one could see in all directions.
What she did see when she emerged onto the battlements was totally unexpected.
Normally one of the men patrolled the tower as a look-out, but today there were four up there, each one facing in a different direction.
'What is it?' she exclaimed, and the one nearest turned to her with a grim smile of greeting.
'Look down there, beyond the walls,' he said, nodding towards the landward side of the castle.
Blanche approached the parapet and looked over. Circling the town, encamped a few hundred yards outside the walls, were dozens and dozens of men. Pack ponies were being led towards them in long lines, roped together, and when their cargoes were unloaded the men set to erecting rough shelters, hides stretched over sticks thrust into the ground. A couple of small cannon were being pulled into positions where they were pointing directly at the main gateway of the town, and already men were busy digging trenches leading towards the walls.
The town walls were black with citizens watching these ominous preparations, and at intervals Blanche could see the gleam of a sword, but these were pitiably few and she realised there were only twenty of Fiona's men left in the castle to defend it and the town.
'Where is Al – Lord Alexander?' she asked, having absorbed all the horror of the scene before her.
'In the town, recruiting men to help with the defences,' the man beside her said. 'We have ample provisions and all the spare weapons and ammunition are stored in the castle, so we can arm the townsmen and hold out while the chieftain and the rest of the men are sent for.'
'Can anyone get out?' Blanche asked. 'They surround the castle.'
'Someone must,' he replied tersely. 'If not, there is the risk the Lady Fiona might ride back into an ambush.'
'Who is it?' she then asked, though was not surprised at the answer.
'The Black Duncan,' the man said bitterly. 'He must be seeking satisfaction for the way the Macdonalds defeated the Campbells under my Lord Montrose. I heard he'd sworn then to be revenged.'
Blanche stayed watching, unable to drag herself away, until she realised that she had been away from her mother for much longer than usual, and Lady Emrey might be getting anxious. She gave one last look round, and then made her way quickly back to her mother's apartments to discuss this development with her.
They saw nothing of Alexander that day, but he sent a message telling them that they were not to be concerned, the castle could hold out for a long time, and help would arrive before then.
*
Blanche rose early the next morning and climbed to the tower. Alexander was there, and he smiled quickly in greeting before continuing to give his orders rapidly and clearly to the men stationed on watch. She walked over to the far side to look down, but little seemed to have changed. Already there was a great deal of activity amongst the beseigers, but now the townsfolk were also working, strengthening the walls and barricading the gates as best they might with the limited means available to them.
They seemed well organised, working in groups directed by the men from the castle, and Blanche assumed this must be due to Alexander's energy. She turned to glance at him, to find he was approaching her.
'Is your mother unduly concerned?' he asked. 'I regret there was so much to do yesterday I did not have leisure to visit her. I trusted you would be capable of soothing her fears.'
'She is not afraid. We lived in greater danger, possibly, in England. But how will you send a message to John? How can anyone get out of here?'
'A volunteer was lowered over the walls last night, and might get through their lines. They are thinly spread, for Duncan has not all three hundred men John estimated he would be able to raise. I count less than two hundred here.
'That is formidable enough,' Blanche began to say, but her words were cut short by a trumpet blaring out suddenly from the camp.
There seemed to be a great deal of activity going on in the centre, and they realised a procession of sorts was forming and marching towards the town gate.
It consisted of about twenty men, and they watched in silence, puzzled to discern its purpose. As they drew nearer the walls, the marchers suddenly raised long pikes, and before Blanche realised what was happening she heard Alexander's sharp intake of breath and he whirled away and was clattering down the steps of the tower.
Startled, she looked back at the fields, and now saw to her horror that on the ends of the pikes were the dismembered parts of a man, his head raised higher than the rest, in the middle of the grotesque line that had now come to a halt facing the town wall.
A howl of execration rose from the throats of the townsfolk overlooking the scene, and several of them fired muskets at the enemy, but they were too far away to be very good targets. They turned, however, and took their grisly display back towards the camp where, to the vociferous anger of the watchers, fuming impotently on the walls, they flung the remains of what had once been a man onto a fire.
'Who – who was it?' Blanche asked faintly of the man beside her.
'The volunteer who attempted to cross the lines last night,' he informed her grimly. 'But we'll show them, there'll be a dozen volunteers to take his place next time!'
Slowly Blanche turned away. All day she was very silent, worrying about the difficulties of getting a message out of the town, and conjuring up horrifying visions of the inhuman vengeance the attackers would be likely to take on any they captured.
On the following day there was more distressing news. Blanche heard from the watchers on the tower that the attackers had taken hostages, young girls of ten and eleven, from a few outlying crofts they had passed on their way to the siege.
'Why? For their perverted entertainment?' she demanded furiously.
'Not yet, we hear. They were afraid someone from these crofts would go to tell the chieftain and her men of their approach. It was to prevent that from happening that these girls were taken,' the guard told her.
'Do they plan to subdue the town first, then wait for the chieftain to return?'
'If they can, but we are more than a match for them!' he declared stoutly. 'But if Lady Fiona rides back unprepared she and the rest of the men will be ambushed. They can do that without first taking the town.'
'Lord Alexander will get a message through, do not fear,' the man asserted.
'Was someone sent to try last night?'
'Aye, this time lowered down the cliffs to the loch. Since that side of the castle is unapproachable, they have but a small contingent watching from the far side of the loch. It was hoped that by crossing to the far bank he could evade them.'
That afternoon, though, it was demonstrated he had not been able to avoid their vigilance, for a gibbet was set up in the fields facing the main gate and the man, still alive, was strung up for all the townsfolk to see.
*
Until this time the besiegers had done little except organise their lines. After the hanging, drawing and quartering of their victim they began to bombard the castle. Most of their shot fell short, for the castle was so high most of it was well out of range of their small cannon. During the night, while the bombardment went on continuously, they changed the target, aiming now at the town gate. Battered ceaselessly, and with fire arrows shot over the wall having repeatedly to be stamped out, the activity was frantic all through the night. Blanche was unable to sleep for the noise of the booming cannon and the shouting of the townsfolk, and went several times up to the tower to huddle in her cloak and watch the vicious attack. Twice she met Alexander, his face blackened with smoke, when he came up to the tower to view t
he enemy, but he merely smiled abstractedly at her and on the second occasion commented she had best try to sleep, despite the noise.
Lady Emrey had dozed a little, and was very heavy eyed when Blanche went to join her for breakfast.
'Were any more attempts made to send out messengers last night?' she asked, and Blanche shook her head.
'I do not think so, for I have heard no reports of it. After what happened to the others I would not expect many eager to make another attempt.'
'John will come back soon, no doubt,' his mother said confidently.
'If he does not ride into an ambush. We must get word to him!'
'Lord Alexander will see to that, he will not be deterred by a couple of setbacks,' her mother said calmly.
Blanche was not able to share her confidence, and shortly afterwards wandered up to the tower. The bombardment seemed to be lessening, and she hoped the attackers might now have given up hope, or else be short of ammunition. When she reached the tower battlements she was greeted with an eerie silence, broken only by occasional shouts, and she soon saw the reason. The gate had been battered until it hung on its vast hinges and a fierce attack was being mounted against this breach in the defences. All the men of the town were concentrated to repel the attack, and Blanche was certain the tall figure in the thick of the fighting was Alexander.
The men, undisciplined but desperate, were holding off the attackers, but just as Blanche thought the attempt would be repelled the cannon started booming again, this time directed at one of the small postern gates near the shore of the loch. Some of the defence had to be diverted to deal with this fresh menace.
Fascinated against her will, and with an odd sense of unreality, Blanche watched. The enemy were again shooting fire arrows over the walls, and many of the turf-covered roofs were in danger of catching fire. The defenders were fully occupied with dousing these arrows where they fell. Despite their efforts, a few fires had caught hold, but the major disaster came when the great wooden gate burst into flames. There was nothing anyone could do to prevent its being consumed, and the defenders were compelled to draw back out of range of the heat and sparks while they watched helplessly, prepared nevertheless to spring to the defence of the gap across the rapidly charring remains of the huge old gate.
Highland Destiny Page 11