Highland Magic

by K. E. Saxon

  After a moment, his resolve once more in place, he took his sword from its place on the wall and began the soothing process of cleaning it.

  * * *

  Dawn came early the next morn, or at least it seemed so to Callum. Tho’ he’d been on the field for at least a half-hour prior to the time he would meet his opponent, he already regretted the challenge he’d given the guard the night before.

  Yet, again, he’d reacted like a bairn. With a low growl, he lifted his sword and swung it in a harsh, downward arc. Swoosh! Swoosh! Twice more he swung the weapon, twice more he felt the futility of the endeavor in the ping! of humiliation he got with each forceful stroke.

  After another hour had passed with no sight of Kerk, Callum at last allowed himself to fully embrace the growing realization that he’d made a total arse of himself last eve—and these past days as well. ‘Twas a realization long in coming, but with an impact that reverberated through him as if the fine-honed edge of a battle axe had hewn through his body armor, directly into his soul, laying bare and open the man inside.

  As he walked back to the keep, he made a plan. His yearly obligation to his uncle had been fulfilled. So, on the morrow, he would begin his long-delayed building of the manor house on the property he’d been ceded.

  But first, he must find Kerk and apologize. Hell, ‘twas time and past for him to apologize to his family as well.

  * * *

  The next day, Callum took a ride to his land with two craftsmen in tow. He needed a project. He needed to focus. He needed something that would keep the demons at bay; that would keep his thoughts off of Branwenn; that would bury the ache in his heart; that would soothe his bruised pride. And, most of all, that would stop reminding him of his own humiliating behavior of late.

  The short, hastily rehearsed speech he’d given Kerk—once he’d found him—had been one of the lowest moments in his life, but one of the best as well. For, even tho’ Kerk had given him his usual smirk as Callum had spoken to him, he’d also said something afterward that had resounded in Callum’s mind for hours afterward. He’d said, “‘Tis good to at last see a man before me.” Aye, Callum thought, ‘twas time and past for everyone, including himself, to see such.

  And the talk he’d had with his family later had been painful. But at least he’d made some amends and, thankfully, he’d regained at least a bit of his family’s regard in the process. But not all. Nay, not by a mile. And ‘twas clear that he wouldn’t until he’d made some amends to Branwenn as well for the vicious way he’d treated her before her departure.

  But he couldn’t do that—not yet at least. For, tho’ ‘twas quite clear to him now that he’d been wrong for believing her capable of behaving like Lara, there was still the matter of her bargain with Gaiallard. A thing he still could not forgive.

  And so, ‘twas best that he move forward with his plan to build his manor. And then, when ‘twas completed, he and his daughter would move into it and start life afresh. David would remain at the MacGregor holding to finish out his page training, but Callum would see him often during that time, as the manor was not far from there.

  “Just there,” Callum said, pointing to a snow-patched rise several yards away. “This, I thought, would be the best place to position the manor.” He and the two craftsmen—the master stonemason and the ingeniator—reined in their horses and silently studied the landscape before them.

  “Aye, ‘tis large enough for what you have in mind, I believe” the ingeniator said. “But a measurement will tell us for sure.”

  “Barring a snow storm, we can begin on the morrow, if that pleases you,” the master mason said.

  Callum gave the man a quick nod. “Aye, good.”

  “What of the stone?”

  A sharp feeling of desolation pierced Callum’s heart. He’d ordered the stone the day after he and Branwenn had first made love, so set had he been upon wedding her and giving her a home. “It’s set to arrive two days hence,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Unfortunately, it didn’t relieve the weight of the sadness there.

  He spent the remainder of the day in further consultation with the two craftsmen. The men assured him that the main living quarters and kitchens could be finished, barring any long bouts of rain or snow, by Bealltainn. The garden walls, gates, and outer buildings would be completed much later.

  Within a fortnight, the foundation and several layers of stone for the outer walls of the manor were in place. In the meantime, Callum had found a master stone carver to carve the designs for the corbels, doors and window dressings.

  He stood a bit away watching the disparate lot of well over 400 apprentices and journeymen under the guidance of the master mason working diligently to get the third tier of the outer wall placed. He’d approved the hire of as many men as the Ingeniator needed in order to assure a hasty, but well built, completion. And thus far, the work was going well. Mayhap, if the warmer winds continued to blow and melt the frost each day as it had these past days, he and his daughter could move in earlier than had been expected.

  And that would be a welcome thing, indeed. For, the longer he remained at the MacGregor holding, the harder it became for him to hide his heartache from his family.

  The stone carver walked up to him and held out a sheet of vellum with a lovely scrolling script dancing across its front. “Is this what you had in mind for the stone above the entry?”

  Callum studied the document for a moment. Tryamour Manor the lettering said. The ‘T’ had a sea faery with a filet of seashells crowning her hair curled into its curving base, the ‘M’ had two more of the fey creatures settled under its arches. “Aye. ‘Tis a good job you’ve done.” He handed the sheet of vellum back to the craftsman. “When will you have it completed?”

  The man rubbed his bristled chin with his fingers and thumb. “Well...it shouldn’t take longer than a sennight, I’m thinking, after the slab of rose marble arrives on the morrow.”

  Callum nodded. “Fine then. My thanks.”

  The man dipped his head in farewell and walked back to his makeshift workshop near the stacks of stone.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 19

  Alyson walked over the rise, David and his hound Jasper following just behind her, and quickly nocked her arrow and let it fly.

  “That’s twelve!” David said, grinning. He hurried over to the downed rabbit, with Jasper grinning and slobbering as he bounded alongside him, and picked it up by its hind legs. After taking the arrow from its neck, he tied it with the other ones he carried. “’Tis all Cook asked us for then. We should return to the keep now, else he’ll surely be vexed.”

  “Yes, let us make haste.”

  They hadn’t taken more than five steps in the direction of the keep before Alyson heard their names being called. She darted a look at David, but ‘twas clear the lad had heard naught.

  Alyson, her brow furrowed in worry, looked in the direction of the voice, but stepped up her pace a bit as well. “Hurry David!” she said, taking the boy’s hand in her own.

  “Alyson! David!” Callum called again a bit louder, waving this time to try to get their attention. He wasn’t on horseback, as he’d felt the need for a bit of exercise after standing for so long watching and supervising the building of his manor, so he led his steed by the reins instead.

  When Alyson saw that it was Callum, she relaxed and halted, tugging David to a halt as well. “‘Tis your foster father, David,” she said. She should have known ‘twould not have been anyone who’d do harm to them—that man was cold in the ground now, God be praised.

  David grinned and waved. “Ho!” Lifting the string of rabbits, he said, “See you what a good hunter is the lady Alyson? Cook’s sure to make a fine stew this eve!”

  Callum glanced at the largesse and chuckled. As he now stood only a pace or two from the pair, he leaned forward and took the rabbits from David and held them up for his own inspection. “Aye, ‘tis a good number.” He turned and tied them to his saddle. Swiveling
back around, and with a courtly bow, he said, “Lady Alyson, may I offer you a ride on my steed?”

  Alyson giggled behind her hand, for she looked more like a lad in her feathered cap, tunic and hose than the lady he so gallantly called her. “Yes, sir knight, ‘twould be a great pleasure, I’m sure,” she answered with as courtly an air as she was able as she offered him her hand.

  Callum grinned and took the proffered appendage before quickly settling her on his bay.

  Jasper bounded across the glen, kicking up earth and snow as he traveled. “Hey!” David yelled and took off after the hound.

  “Have you heard from your husband?” Callum asked after a moment.

  “Nay,” Alyson said on a sigh. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I worry that something terrible has happened to him—Do you think he could have come to some harm?”

  “Nay. Fear not, for ‘tis more likely that his meeting with his cousin took longer than he expected. No doubt, he’s on his way back even now.”

  Alyson was quiet for another moment, then, as if she could barely get the words past her lips, she said, “You...you know that ‘twas I that sent the arrow into my brother, do you not?”

  Callum shot her a quick glance to gauge her expression. “Aye,” he answered a bit hesitantly, “but your secret is safe with us, Alyson. And, besides, ‘twas my dirk that killed him, not your arrow. ‘Twas not murder, ‘twas an honorable death on the tournament field. With witnesses.”

  “Yes, but, ‘tis truth, I would have murdered him, if you’d not gotten him first.”

  Callum sighed and patted her knee. “But you didn’t. And that is all you must know, must think on. Understand?”

  Alyson started chewing on her lip again. After a moment, she nodded. “All right.” And then: “Will you tell him? My husband?”

  Callum gave her a gentle smile, but there was pity in it as well. “My lady. Do you not think that your husband will ken exactly who let fly that arrow the minute he learns the details of the joust?”

  Alyson bowed her head and fiddled with one of the metal rings in the chained girdle around her middle—a small vanity, even if she was wearing lad’s attire. She shrugged.

  “Reys will feel exactly as we do, I’m sure, after his heart returns to a normal meter. He’ll only be glad that no one who might want to exact punishment knows of the incident. And no one ever will. My stepfather made sure of that.”

  Callum searched the glen and relaxed when he saw David and Jasper further ahead, but still within earshot.

  “Your lady and my brother....”

  Callum’s head whipped around. “Aye?”

  Alyson sat forward. Leaning down a bit, she said earnestly, “They did not...she would not have.”

  Callum pressed his lips together into a grim line.

  “She loves you too well. And the fr—”

  “Aye, and ‘tis for that reason that I believe she did.”

  “But—the ff—”

  “Nay, I won’t speak more. I’ve said too much as is. Leave the subject be, my lady, for, ‘tis truth, you know naught of it.”

  Alyson shook her head, but remained silent. What a pity. ‘Twas so clear that he grieved for his lady love as if she’d died instead of merely traveled to her brother’s keep. If only he would forgive her, or believe her. With a sigh, she resettled on her mount. Mayhap, when Reys returned, he could make Callum listen.

  * * *

  Branwenn decided to take the long route to reach the cave chamber she and Bao had dwelled in for that short time nearly two years prior, the one which led her from another entrance to the cave and then through several long passages into the chamber. The access they’d used two summers before had involved climbing a pine tree, and she thought it not prudent to do such in her current condition.

  She’d now been at the Maclean holding for nearly a moon and yet she’d still not broken the news of her childing state to her family. And ‘twas time. For even her larger gowns were no longer hiding her rounding middle the way they had only a couple of sennights before. Her babe was growing faster than she’d expected. She’d been careful to rid the bucket of her stomach’s purging each morn before the chamberlain saw it, and thankfully, those bouts had ended recently. But last eve, Grandmother Maclean had settled her hawk’s-eye gaze directly on Branwenn’s belly for what seemed an eternity as Branwenn scurried across the great hall to find her seat at the table. Thankfully, the older lady had given her naught more than a greeting and then proceeded to speak to her of things more mundane. However, she had also pressed her to drink a bit of milk and eat more of the kale that had been prepared, which only heightened Branwenn’s unease that the lady was growing suspicious.

  So, upon rising this morn, Branwenn had determined that she would tell her family this very day. But first, she wanted to spend a bit of time alone with her babe—far from curious eyes—to rehearse the words she’d say to them this eve. And the only place she could think of that would afford her that type of privacy was the cave chamber.

  Besides, this place held such warm memories for her that she knew she’d also gain a bit of comfort as well from revisiting their old dwelling.

  Once inside it, she quickly kindled a fire and settled next to its glowing warmth.

  She was deep in her thoughts, preparing her speech, when she was startled from her reverie by the harsh sound of someone clearing his throat. She swung her head around and looked in the direction of the noise. “Bao! What do you here?”

  Bao ambled toward her. “I followed you, wee one. What, pray, is this about?” He looked around the chamber, an expression of confused amusement on his countenance. “Why the affinity for this place? ‘Tis cold, ‘tis dank, ‘tis stark. Hardly the cozy situation I expect my sister to enjoy.”

  As Bao settled down next to her, Branwenn shrugged and took a look around the place herself. “It holds fond memories for me, is all.” She looked at him then. “When we dwelled here those few moons, ‘twas just you and I, no one else, with no King’s campaign to hie you off to who knew where, or for how long.” She shrugged again. “I enjoyed that.”

  The look in Bao’s eye became gentle as he reached out and took hold of her hand. “Aye, ‘twas a special time.” Straightening, he said again, “Now, tell me what is this about?”

  * * *

  First, Callum strode over to the place on the wall where his sword hung and gazed up at it for a moment, then, still restless but deciding against cleaning the thing again, as he’d done every morn and night these past sennights, he turned and strode over to sprawl in the chair next to his bedchamber’s hearthfire. He was only down a second or two before he was up once more and marching toward one of his clothing trunks. The pain in his chest was almost too much to bear, so tight was the invisible band, that each breath he took was harsh and labored. His hands, loose at his sides, fisted and opened, fisted and opened, as he looked down at the lid to the wooden container.

  After forcing air into his lungs twice more, he finally reached out and lifted the lid. The smell of wood and dust met him. His heart thudding against his ribs, he crouched down in front of the container and simply stared. After a moment, and with slightly sweating hands, he moved aside the filet and set of marriage rings he’d given Branwenn, which she’d left when she’d departed nearly a moon prior, and then rubbed his fingers over the now brown-red stains on the soft linen sheet beneath. Branwenn. His lips formed the name, but not a sound was uttered. He savored the feel of it on his tongue. Gloried in it.

  But then his jaw hardened and, with a decisive movement, he slammed the trunk shut once more and pushed to his feet. He turned, strode to the door and left the chamber. ‘Twas barely light out yet, but by the time he arrived at his property, the men would be at work. What he needed was exercise—and what better means could there be than to maneuver heavy stone?

  * * *

  “I think it best that we inform Callum of Branwenn’s condition,” Lady Maclean said that evening. She, Bao and Jesslyn were
all seated in the solar, drinking mulled wine. It had begun to snow rather heavily earlier in the day and the air in the chamber was quite chilled and dank.

  Jesslyn, who a bit over a year past had gone through a similar quandary, was possibly the only one among them that understood why Branwenn might want, and deserve, to keep those tidings from the father of her babe. “Can we not wait a bit longer? Surely, in a moon or two, Branwenn, herself, will want Callum to be informed.” She gave her husband a pleading look. “Is it such a travesty to keep Callum in the dark a bit longer? After all, the marriage contracts are voided, and have been for nearly a moon.”

  Bao, who’d borne the unpleasant effects of Jesslyn’s subterfuge, was fully standing behind Callum’s rights as a father. “I’m sending a missive to him in a quarter hour’s time.”

  “But, after what he did to her—”

  “Aye,” Lady Maclean said with a sigh, “I do worry a bit that the foolish lad will question the paternity”—she gave her grandson a steady look—“and I wouldn’t put that poor lass through more heartache for any amount of relief to my conscience our telling Callum of the babe might render.”

  Bao was resolute. “I’m sending the missive. If he’s fool enough to reject his own bairn, so be it. At least he’ll have no excuse other than himself for such an action.”

  * * *

  Callum limped toward his hearth chair and nearly fell into the seat as he sat down. Every muscle in his body ached, and he now had so many cuts and scrapes on his hands and arms, he looked as if he had been in a wrestling match with a mother bear. But he also was filled with a sense of accomplishment, a thing he’d not felt to this degree since those first years of squire training when he’d entered all those tournaments and become ever more skilled at the craft. He’d soaked in a hot bath in the kitchens for nearly an hour, but his body was still giving him much protest. And he was expected to return to the great hall in a half hour’s time to have the evening meal with his mother and Chalmers. He only hoped taking the stairs down would be easier than the climb up them had been.