High on a Mountain

by Tommie Lyn

  ____________

  Ailean had almost finished building the asi where they would live through the cold winter. He had dug the round space for it at Kutahyah’s direction, cut timbers for it and hauled them into place. He built a framework and mounded earth onto it. He had also cut a large quantity of deadwood into short lengths for the fire and stacked it neatly nearby. They would be snug and warm this winter. But the temptation to make love to Kutahyah would be constant during the close confinement in the asi. He dreaded the coming of cold weather.

  He went to the stream to check the fish trap and heard someone call from the hillside, “Hello the house!”

  It was Gòrdan.

  Ailean hurried to meet his friend. “Gòrdan. Good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you, too, my friend.” Gòrdan looked around at the house, the cleared field and other improvements Ailean and Kutahyah had made. “Tenahwosi was right. He told everyone in the village that you’re doing very well here. He talked of the things you’ve built, all the work you’ve done.”

  Kutahyah had hustled into the house when she first caught sight of Gòrdan, and now she emerged, carrying a blanket and a stack of baskets. She spread the blanket on the ground and set the baskets on it. She looked inquiringly at Gòrdan.

  “Trade?” he asked.

  “Trade,” she answered.

  Gòrdan dismounted. He and his assistant took bundles of trade goods off his pack horses.

  “Let me tie your horses over by the ford so they can drink,” Ailean said. “There’s good grass, so they can graze.”

  “All right,” Gòrdan said and handed Ailean the reins of his saddle horse and the lead rope of the pack horses. The assistant followed with his own horse.

  Ailean returned after he tied the animals. He stood and watched as Gòrdan spread a canvas sheet on the ground and opened his packs. He laid items one by one on the sheet. Kutahyah knelt by the sheet and watched him solemnly as he placed the goods before her. When all of them were displayed, she examined each article, fingering it, lifting it, then replacing it carefully on the canvas. Ailean could tell she was enjoying the trade immensely.

  She looked with longing at a red calico shirt. She stroked the fabric, held it up and looked it over, front and back, but laid it aside. She gave it a lingering caress before turning her attention to other items. At last, she selected a large knife. She and Gòrdan struck a bargain that each seemed happy with. She picked up the knife, stood and walked to Ailean. She handed it to him with a smile.

  “Yours,” she said in English.

  “Wado,” he said. “Thanks.” Then he said in Gaelic, “I wish I could trade for something wonderful to give you, something as wonderful as you are to me. I have nothing right now. Next year, though.”

  She smiled at him, picked up the blanket and returned to the house.

  Gòrdan began repacking his goods and the baskets Kutahyah had traded for the knife.

  “Looks like you two are happy together,” Gòrdan said, watching her go.

  Ailean frowned. “Yes and no.”

  Gòrdan gave Ailean a sharp glance. “You act like you love each other.”

  “I do love her. And I think she loves me.”

  “What’s the problem then?”

  “Gòrdan, I never told you about Mùirne.” His voice quavered and broke. “My sweet Mùirne.”

  “You have a wife waiting in Scotland?”

  Ailean shut his eyes and rubbed them. “No. If only I did.”

  “If you don’t have a wife, what’s the trouble?”

  “A man was trying to kill me, and Mùirne put herself between me and him when he fired his pistol. She gave her life to save mine.” His voice broke again and he had to stop talking until he regained control of his emotions. But his voice was still tremulous as he said, “My sweet Mùirne sacrificed herself for me. Now, I can’t fully love Kutahyah because I feel guilty when I touch her, like I’m being unfaithful to Mùirne. My Mùirne.”

  Gòrdan took a deep breath and blew it out before he spoke. “Does Kutahyah know what’s standing between you?”

  Ailean shook his head. “I can’t speak enough Tsalagi. I don’t know how to tell her.”

  “She must be a mighty forgiving woman to stay with you, not knowing why you… why it…”

  “I know.” Ailean nodded.

  They stood side by side in silence for a long while.

  “Would you like me to tell her? Let her know why things are this way between the two of you?” Gòrdan asked.

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Aye. For you. And for her.”

  “Then, yes, please, tell her,” Ailean looked away across the creek, across the years to the memory of the day he lost everything. “And tell her…tell her I do love her…so much.”

  They stood together silently for a few minutes longer, then Gòrdan cleared his throat and said, “My friend, I don’t want to intrude, but may I ask you a question?”

  Ailean nodded.

  “If you had died instead of your wife, would you want her to live as you are living, unhappy and full of guilt?” Gòrdan paused, then said, quietly, “Or would you want her to find love again and be happy?”

  The question startled Ailean. He jerked his head toward Gòrdan and stared at him for a few moments, his eyes wide and wondering. He turned away and gazed at the mountains that surrounded his valley. Ailean left Gòrdan’s side without a word and walked down to the creek. He squatted beside it, stared the rippling, gurgling water while this new idea spun and churned through his mind. Gòrdan watched him for a few minutes, shook his head sadly and went to the hut to talk with Kutahyah.

  ____________

  “Kutahyah.”

  She raised her head from her work of preparing food for the evening meal. “Yes?”

  “May I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Yes. Please sit down.” She gestured to a river cane mat by the fire.

  “I spoke with Ailean and—”

  “Ailean?”

  “Asgayagiga. Ailean is his Scottish name. I spoke with him, and he told me some things that I think you need to know about. Things that are standing between you and him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “First of all, he told me he loves you.”

  Tears welled up in Kutahyah’s eyes. “He did?”

  “Yes. But he said he has trouble…letting you know it because…because he…” Gòrdan stopped and cleared his throat.

  “Kutahyah, he was married before, in Scotland. And his wife was killed. She gave her life trying to protect him from a man who meant to kill him. Now, when he tries to be happy with you, he remembers that she died for him. He feels guilty.”

  The tears spilled from Kutahyah’s eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “He is a good man. And I love him.”

  ____________

  When Ailean joined them, Kutahyah served the meal in silence. Gòrdan saw the looks of tenderness between them, glances tinged with sadness, and he felt sorry for them. He searched for something to say, something of interest to spark conversation and relieve the tension he felt.

  He took a bite of fish and chewed. Ah, yes. He remembered.

  He swallowed and said, “When I met with William Thornton, I told him about you. And some bartender said he knows you.”

  “Bartender? I don’t know any bartenders,” Ailean said.

  “Well, he said he knows you. Asked where you were.”

  Ailean frowned. “What did he look like?”

  Gòrdan described Latharn. “Black hair, brown eyes. Medium-sized, and—”

  “Did you tell him where I am?” Ailean interrupted.

  “No. Should I have?”

  “That’s Latharn Cambeul, the man who killed my Mùirne. He still wants to kill me. That’s why I escaped from the plantation, to find a way to arm myself so I could fight him.”

  “I’m sorry I mentioned your name.”

  “No, don’t be. He would hav
e found out where I am one way or another. He won’t rest until one of us is dead.”

  They finished the meal in silence and sat looking into the fire for a while, as though each of them was at a loss for words.

  At last, Gòrdan sighed. “I’d better get some sleep. I need to get an early start for Elatseyi.”

  “Gòrdan, I almost forgot,” Ailean said. “I found an interesting thing some weeks ago. Would you mind looking at it? I can’t figure out what it is.”

  He retrieved the piece of yellow metal from the small pottery bowl where he’d placed it for safe keeping and handed it to his friend. Gòrdan held it close to the fire and looked at it, turning it back and forth in the light and feeling it.

  He glanced at Ailean and asked, “Where did you find this?”

  “In the shallows of the stream,” Ailean said. “Well? Do you know what it is?”

  “It’s a piece of gold.”

  “Gold. Are you sure? I saw something made of gold once, and it didn’t look like this. It was shiny.”

  “Gold isn’t shiny when it comes out of the ground. Or out of a creek.”

  “How do you know?”

  “There’s gold hereabouts. I get a little in trade every now and then.”

  “Gold,” Ailean said, staring into the fire, lost in thought. He turned to Gòrdan and asked, “Do you mean gold, like money? Like you can use to buy things?”

  “You can use pieces of gold like this for trade. I can take it to Charles Town on my next trip and find out what it’s worth.”

  “How many pieces like that would it take to buy a cow?”

  Gòrdan laughed. “You could probably buy several cows with a piece this size.”

  “And a gift for Kutahyah, too?”

  “Aye.”

  Ailean asked, “The red shirt she was looking at, could I get that for her?”

  Gòrdan smiled. “I’ll get it from my pack in the morning before I leave.”

  “One other thing. How do you say ‘I love you’ in Tsalagi?”

  “Gvgeyu.”

  Gòrdan stayed the night with Ailean and Kutahyah and left for Elatseyi the next morning.

  FORTY-SIX

  Ailean shivered in the early morning chill as he squatted by the door frame he was building on the asi. Kutahyah went inside the house, brought a blanket and draped it over his shoulders, leaning over to pull it close around his neck. He stopped his work and looked into her eyes. He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips.

  “Thank you, my sweet.”

  She smiled and with her other hand which rested on his shoulder, she gave him a pat and a caress. He stood, put his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

  “You’re so good to me,” he murmured. “I wish…I wish things were different with me, that I could…” He cleared his throat. “Gvgeyu, I love you.”

  Kutahyah wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. “Gvgeyu,” she replied softly.

  Ailean kissed her forehead, her temple, and she raised her face to receive his kiss on her lips. When their lips met, desire surged through Ailean, carrying him on the mindless crest of a flood of passion. His gentle embrace grew tighter, his tender kiss became insistent and demanding. He was unable to think, unable to feel anything but the wanting, which grew stronger with the warmth of Kutahyah’s response.

  But from deep within, a small voice spoke, echoed louder and louder, cutting through the hot intensity of his pent-up longings. What about Mùirne? She died for you.

  He released Kutahyah, stepped back from her and groaned. “I’m sorry. I thought I could…but…”

  He stumbled away from her, made his way to the stream and fell to his knees on the bank. He sat, drew up his knees, propped his elbows on them, and buried his face in his hands.

  ____________

  Latharn and Jim watched from a distance, hidden in a thicket.

  “That him?” Satterfield asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, what you going to do now?”

  Latharn didn’t want anyone witness the murder of MacLachlainn. No, no! He corrected himself. Not murder. Execution.

  MacLachlainn should have been executed in Scotland. Would have been executed if Latharn hadn’t intervened and requested that the man be transported and sold as a slave. Latharn hadn’t wanted a quick, easy death for MacLachlainn. He wanted him to suffer. But now, here he was, loved by another woman. MacLachlainn was a happy man while it was he who suffered.

  It isn’t fair!

  Resentment over the injustice whipped his hatred into an astringent, burning foam that spread and filled him, made it difficult to see beyond it.

  “Take the horses back to the place we camped last night. Wait for me and I’ll meet you there,” he whispered.

  Satterfield nodded and eased away silently while Latharn watched for an opportunity. He would wait until MacLachlainn was alone. He didn’t want to hurt the woman. No, he wouldn’t hurt another woman. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as the memory of Mùirne’s death returned to haunt him.

  Latharn watched as MacLachlainn sat on the bank of the stream, elbows propped on his knees, staring across the water. The woman moved to MacLachlainn’s side and looked at him for a moment. She went to the house and sat beside the door in a patch of sunlight.

  ____________

  Asgayagiga’s eyes had the vacant, faraway look again. Kutahyah knew that look well. He would go to the mountain of Tumbling Waters and sit on the rock beside the creek, staring at the valleys below, looking but not really seeing. What he saw was something far away and long ago, something in his memory.

  She took her usual seat by the door and watched as he rose and walked away. She continued her work peeling cane splits for baskets she intended to weave and trade to Gòrdan. She, as always, would wait patiently for Asgayagiga’s return.

  Something caught her attention, a half-seen movement, a flash of color, something blue in the undergrowth halfway up the hill. She laid aside the cane, keeping her bone knife in her hand, and stood, turned to the right to cross behind the house unseen by anyone who might be watching from the hillside. She slipped into the woods behind the house and crept up the hill.

  With silent steps, she approached the spot where she’d seen the hint of movement. No one was there, but she saw a faint half-moon depression made by a boot heel on the bare ground. She searched for other signs and found them. There had been two men hiding, watching. The tracks of one man led east, toward Gulahiyi. But the other had gone to the northwest. Toward the mountain of Tumbling Waters. She followed the clear trail the booted man had made, headed in the direction of the mountain where Asgayagiga was going.

  She paused to think. Why would this person hide? Why would he follow Asgayagiga, if he meant no harm? Her beloved had no weapon to defend himself. She ran back to the house to get the axe.

  Hurry! Hurry! she told herself. The man could be attacking Asgayagiga now. She grabbed the axe and the large knife she had gotten in trade from Gòrdan. She knew where her beloved was going. She didn’t bother to track the man who followed him. Kutahyah ran straight toward the mountain.

  ____________

  Ailean settled himself on his rock and gazed over the valley below. But he saw in his heart the glen and cottages of his home near the shore of Loch Fyne. He thought of his boyhood hopes and dreams and berated himself. Why had he ever thought he wanted fame and glory as a warrior? He’d had everything a man could want: the love of a good woman, a son who made him proud, and a warm circle of family and friends. But he hadn’t valued it enough.

  And he’d lost it all.

  But worse than the contemplation of his loss was the memory of his argument with Mùirne before he left for Inverness, the last lucid conversation they shared. He hurt her, lashed out with words that separated their hearts from one another. And that hurt had never been healed. Mùirne died before he could repair the damage he’d done to her, died giving herself to save him, loving him even afte
r he’d hurt her so deeply.

  The pain seemed too great to bear any longer. If he took a few steps, it would all be over. No more guilt. No more grief over the loved ones he’d lost. And no more unfulfilled yearning for Kutahyah. Just blessed relief.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to carry out his own death. Even though Ailean had turned his back on God, the teachings from his youth still held his heart and mind, and he believed it would be a sin to kill himself. And it would not provide the relief he craved. It would merely exchange his anguish on this earth for eternal torment.

  ____________

  Latharn climbed the steep trace up the side of the mountain with difficulty, the soles of his boots slipping and sliding on the dead leaves and moss that covered the ground. He reached the top and saw a stream meandering across the small, narrow gap near the top of the mountain. He followed the stream and found MacLachlainn sitting on a rock at a place where the earth dropped away. He was looking out over the void.

  Latharn took a deep breath. This moment was what he had waited for, longed for. He wished he could kill MacLachlainn, bring him to life, then kill him again, to make him pay in full for all the heartache he’d caused. He wished he could make MacLachlainn die a thousand deaths, all painful, but one would have to do. He took the pistol from his belt and aimed at MacLachlainn’s back, started to squeeze the trigger but stopped. No. He wanted to look into the man’s eyes, to see fear in them, wanted to see MacLachlainn cower before him. Wanted to see MacLachlain suffer.

  “MacLachlainn. Prepare to die.” he shouted.

  ____________

  Ailean recognized Latharn’s voice. He stood and turned to face Latharn. He was tired of Latharn, and weary of his hatred of the man. A thought occurred to him: If Latharn kills me, I’ll be free from this torment, but I won’t bear the sin of killing myself. For a brief moment, some part of him took a grim satisfaction from the knowledge that Latharn would bear the sin of murder, would pay the price for his death while he would not.