by Ria Cantrell
“Arise, Sir Tavish.”
Tom slowly got himself off of his knee, feeling like the room was spinning around him. He straightened his spine and stood facing the king. The king called, “Does anyone have spurs to pass on to this man for his new station within the Order?”
And as if the day hadn’t taken unbelievable twists already, from the back of the room a voice called, “I do, my liege. I offer my spurs to Sir Tavish.”
Tavish turned and stared dumbfoundedly at Ian Brandham. Ian had made no bones about his disdain for Tom, but here he was offering spurs as a sign of brotherhood and acceptance. Tom saw Erik nod his approval to his former squire and newly knighted future son-in-law. Tom was completely gob-smacked by the entire turn of events. As the spurs were fastened around his boots, the king gave a final discourse. “You are to continue your training under the leadership of these brave men.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The king just acknowledged Tom with a nod of his head. “Now then, as for your betrothal, We believe that should you decide after a year and a day to wed the Lady Jenna, the betrothal will stand. But both parties must be in agreement or the Lady will be free to choose a suitable husband. We grant her this privilege for her valor in aiding to defend Our life. Are We understood, Sir Drew and Lady Bronwyn?”
It was unheard of, but so many surprises had already taken place, that Drew and Bronwyn gave their consent to the whim of this English monarch. It seemed to be a very gracious pardon for their part in deceiving the king. It was as it should be anyway. Jenna was a strong woman and she deserved to choose her own path.
“Finally, regarding the matter of the traitors against the Throne of England. The body of Jerome McManus will be left to rot, without Christian burial, to become carrion. May his flesh and bones be scattered by wild beasts far and wide, as is his just reward. To the matter of Michael de la Pole, We hereby banish him from the kingdom. If he is found before We return to England, he will be tried for treason and We decree the traitor to be drawn and quartered for his crimes against the Crown. We also declare a bounty upon his head. His life is as good as forfeited for his acts of betrayal.”
A low murmur of voices rose in the background of the hall at this declaration.
Then addressing the family of Caleb MacCollum, the king said, “It is Our wish to stay till the morrow, until the Good Laird of Clan MacCollum is laid to rest. He gave his life in the defense of Ours and We would see him honored this final time. Will his sons please approach?”
One by one, all the MacCollum men filed up the center aisle and formed a semi-circle in front of the king. He unrolled a scroll and to Jamie he asked, “Do We have your agreement set forth this day upon the document?”
“Aye, m’lord.”
“As the proxy for Our Scottish Royal Cousin, King Robert, We declare the new Laird of the Clan MacCollum this day.”
Rory lifted his head and smiled. It was about time that Jamie took his rightful place as leader of the clan in their dad’s place. Jamie and Liam both had invested much of their lives more as sheepherders than successors to the line of Laird, but it was as it was always meant to be.
“Ruiri MacCollum, would you please step forward.”
Looking from brother to brother, Rory saw slow smirks widening on all of his brothers’ faces. What the hell was going on? This was no time for jokes. They had serious business of burying their father to attend to. Now was not a time for the brothers to plan some sort of mischief.
None too gently, the brothers manhandled Rory and pulled him forward before the king. Shawn pressed a heavy hand into the base of Rory’s neck and he said, “Kneel, man. Do ye’ wish us to look like total barbarians before the English king?”
Unwillingly, Rory, bent one knee and with the weight of his brothers’ hands on his back, he touched it to the stone floor beneath him.
“By the writ of your father, and in King Robert’s stead, We name you, Ruiri MacCollum, Laird of the Clan.”
“What, Nay. There must be some mistake. I am the youngest of my father’s first set of sons, born from his first marriage to my mother Mairgred. Jamie is rightful heir to the line.”
“I dunna’ want it, brother. I never have. Aye, I can lead the clan, but ye’ are the better choice. Ye’ have formed alliances with clans that were long our foes like the MacDougals and the MacKay. Ye’ have led armies both under MacCollum and under MacDougal. I have led and tended sheep. I have no regrets for our wool is the finest in the land, but I am nay the man for the job. Neither is Liam.”
“Shawn then, for he is next in line.”
“Little brother, I stand in agreement with Jamie and Liam and with our father, too. Ye’ are the best man for the job. I will ever be yer’ champion and together I will see to it to be yer’ helpmate, but ye’ are the man who has garnered the respect of our clan; more than I could ever do. We discussed it all with our Da’ months ago. T’was like he knew he would soon be called and he wanted us all to be in agreement before he passed so that there would be no fighting about it upon his death. What says ye’? Do ye’ accept?”
“What can I say? How have ye’ done this behind my back?”
Jamie clapped Rory on the back and said, “Well, ye’ have been busy, leading the Clan, Brother.”
Rory looked back at Jamie and said, “Are ye’ sure about this Jamie? T’is yer’ rightful place.”
“My place is on my farm, with my beautiful Sinead and our daughters and our future grand babes. Yer’ place is at the head of the clan. T’is as it should be. Father would nay have done this if we were nay all in agreement of it.”
“I dunna’ know what to say.”
“Say ye’ will accept the Lairdship.”
“T’is unheard of.”
Shawn laughed, despite the bittersweet events that brought them to this point. “I would wager that lots of things were unheard of before this day, aye?”
Looking for his Brielle amid the sea of faces in the great hall, Rory’s eyes met hers and she smiled. Tears clung to her long lashes and she just lowered her head in affirmation. Rory held out his hand and Brielle joined him before the king. She knelt next to her husband and he said, “What do ye’ think, my love? Do ye’ wish to be a laird’s lady?”
“Aye, husband. They have chosen well.”
Brielle’s faith in him always brought out the best in Rory. With her acceptance of her share of the blessed burden, Rory gave his consent.
“Therefore,” the king thundered loudly so all present in the hall could hear. “By the agreement of the heirs to Caleb MacCollum and by his own writ, I declare Ruiri MacCollum as the new laird of the Clan.”
There were cheers amid the crowd and as Rory rose to his feet, he was greeted and hailed as the Laird. He was stunned, but he was honored and his heart hitched in his chest at being given the opportunity to make his father proud.
“With no further business being held before Us, We hereby order this Court closed. Let us prepare for the former laird’s final sendoff as befitting his station and legacy.”
~
Chapter Fifty-One ~
The morning started out cold and grey. There still was no snow, but Tom thought it could begin at any time. The chill of the dreary day seeped into a body’s bones and he was grateful for the warm fly-plaid about his shoulders. He proudly wore the colors of the MacCollum Clan on this somber day as they gathered to bring the laird to his final resting place. He would have a Christian burial even though Tom suspected he had been more of the Old Ways than the new. Still, they were MacCollums after all and they came from the line of followers of St. Columba.
The day began with early Vespers and when all the prayers had been offered for the soul of Laird Caleb, the priest had celebrated holy mass. Tom had never been a very religious man, but he admired the faith of those before him, especially at a time such as this, where sorrow and grief hung heavy in the dimly lit chapel. Caleb’s body had been laid out on a bier. He was bedecked in his clan plaid. His
sword was carefully placed in his hands and laid across his chest. Even in death, his presence was impressive. His poor widow, Mara, had taken care of preparing him for burial. She wanted her husband to have the send-off befitting of a Laird of a clan. She took every care to have him laid out as regally as the king himself.
As Tom stood alongside of Caleb’s sons, guarding the body of the fallen laird, he felt such a sense of sadness for the woman who wept constantly during the mass. Despite the terrible grief that permeated the very stone of the walls, Tom was honored to be called to stand guard with the others. It was his first official duty as a Knight of the Realm and he would not have traded it for the standing ovations he had received many a night while performing with Celtic Storm.
He wished he had more time to get to know the laird for truly he was a man that was loved by many. In observing those who mourned, Tom felt his throat tighten and unwarranted tears pricked at the back of his eyes. Glancing over at the men who stood waiting to bear their father’s remains back to the crypt in Castle MacCollum, more than one of them had silent tears making clear tracks upon their cheeks. Rory, the new laird, kept swallowing as if to push them down. Tom could see his larynx descend with each attempt to keep his tears in check. Jesus, if these strong warriors could cry, who was he to try to be so strong?
He looked for Jenna amid the mourners and he found her in the second pew. Her mother and father were on either side of her. The lady Bronwyn had her arm draped around Jenna’s shoulders. Even in her sorrow, Tom thought she was absolutely beautiful and he longed to be able to take her into his arms and comfort her as best he could.
After the final prayers were concluded, the men acting as guard and pallbearers took the body of the laird and carefully laid him inside an ornately carved wooden casket. He would be laid to rest beside his first wife’s remains in the crypt below the chapel within MacCollum Keep so the heavy casket was loaded into the back of a covered carriage and those who would follow in procession soon mounted their horses.
Because of the royal guests still present in the keep, Jenna’s immediate family was to stay behind. Morag would remain as well. She was quite frail and the bitter cold was not good for her old bones. Tom thought that perhaps he could spend some time with her and get to know the woman who had brought him into the world. With so much that had happened in the last few days, his heart had seemed to open to the woman and it was time he embraced his past as well as the woman he wanted to shun for abandoning him so long ago.
There seemed to be lots of reckoning happening in the days following Caleb’s death. Before the procession took to the road, Kiera approached Brielle. With a hug of condolences, she said, “Might I beg a word with you, m’lady. I have something important to tell you. I had hoped we would have a chance to speak, but with all that has happened….”
“Of course. Let us speak privately.”
Brielle and Kiera wandered back into the hall, which was mostly empty of guests now. Sitting for a few moments before one of the big hearths that gave needed heat to the room, Kiera said, “I am not sure how to explain, but I have word of your brother.”
“My brothers are both dead, my lady. I am sure ye’ are mistaken.”
“Lady Brielle, I can attest that your brother Derek is very much alive.”
“Lady, I dunna’ know who ye’ are or from whence ye’ came, but my brother Derek was lost long ago.”
“Aye, I know that is what you were told, but I have been married to him for this past year. We have a child; a little girl.”
“How is that possible?”
“He lives in a time many years from now. It seems that he had a bad fall near here, for this was his home, was it not?”
With her mouth forming a line in distaste Brielle answered, “It was our home, t’is true. It looked very different when last I left it. I have nay been here in many years. My life here was nay, hmm, well a joyful time, to say the least. I lost contact with my brother upon the death of our eldest sibling.”
“My lady, I wish to bring you no more unhappiness on this saddest of days, but I wanted you to know that Derek is greatly changed. I know about the things that were done to you at your brothers’ hands, but Derek is not the man you once knew. I can attest to his transformation and it has all been for the better. He is a wonderful husband and father to our little girl.”
Kiera could see her words were not only disbelieved but that Lady Brielle was looking like she wanted to get away from her quickly. Kiera continued hastily, “I come from a time much further in the future. Derek was cast into an isolation of sorts for his transgressions of his past. The Old One pleaded for his redemption and for a new chance at life. Because of her supplications, he was granted a great boon, but it came at a very dear price. Even now, he is locked in a tower, somewhere in the woods nearby. I have been urged to not try to find it for he is not redeemed in this time, but where I am from, he is. He has paid his debt and he has become a man you would be proud of.”
“This is madness, lady. I’m sorry, I m-must go. They are waiting for me.” Brielle stood up and began to walk away. Kiera put her hand on the lady’s arm and pleaded, “Please. I promised him that I would tell you about him. I know it seems mad as you say, but there is another who comes from my time. Someone who can vouch for the truth of my story.”
“Aye, Brielle, she speaks the truth.”
It was Jamie’s wife, Sinead. She had followed the two women into the great hall because she also wanted to speak to Kiera. She recognized her as a modern woman immediately but hadn’t had any time to speak to her with all that had gone on since her arrival. Sinead’s journey into the past happened so long ago she almost did not think of herself in the modern sense any longer, but still, she was immediately aware of the subtle differences between those from the fourteenth century and those from her time in the future.
“Listen to her, Sister. I promise you she is nay mad. I, too, am from her time. Morag knows it. Jamie knows it and Caleb knew it as well. It has been a well-guarded secret to protect the clan. I came through time to save Jamie and I never went back. I noticed the familiar mannerisms of one from my time the minute I saw this woman.”
“But how?”
“Ancient Magic, I suppose. There are others who share the gift. Morag walks through time often”, Kiera explained.
“While I can if I choose to, I stay here because of my marriage to Jamie. This time suits me. I left a world behind of great stress and anxiety. I had no ties to anyone there and so when I accidentally found myself sent here, to save Rory’s brother, I felt called to stay. Of course marryin’ Jamie was just the excuse I needed to stay, but in truth, I think even if I had not met him, I would have never gone back.”
Brielle shook her head in disbelief but if anyone could do as Sinead had said, she knew it would be Morag. Why did that not surprise her at all?
Taking the opportunity to speak further, before Brielle made haste to get away from the futuristic lunatic that had news too unbelievable to ponder, Kiera said, “Anyway, I wanted you to know that Derek regrets never being able to apologize to you. It hurts his tender heart deeply.”
Brielle laughed uneasily. The past few days had been more than a little upsetting to say the least, and now this news was just almost too much for her rattled nerves. “I beg yer’ pardon, Lady Kiera, but my brother did nay have a tender heart. Indeed his heart was made of the blackest stone.”
“I know that is how he was here, in his past, but I can assure you he is very different now. Seven centuries isolated with his own guilt can temper a man, I guess. He is just, ah, the most beloved man I have ever known. One of the reasons I agreed to come to this time with Morag was to seek you out to tell you about him and to bring you his words of regret and remorse. I know it is a lot to ask, but I was hoping I could tell him you have forgiven him. Every time he speaks of you, he is so filled with sadness and I wish to ease his pain at those times. But nothing I do can help him. If I were able to tell him that you….”
>
Brielle moved forward, and brushed passed Kiera. She was visibly disturbed but she said, “Forgive him? He and my other brother sold me into a loveless marriage. I became a widow before I was even really a bride. He and my brother wished to have my husband killed just for being a MacCollum. I was threatened with despicable acts unless I delivered my husband into Roderick’s hands for him to torture and kill. Aye, Derek was not there, but he did naught to thwart the evilness of our older brother. The last time I saw him, he was still hell bent on killing Rory because he had seen Rory kiss me. Forgive him, you ask? I dunna’ know if I can.”
Kiera’s brow creased at hearing these things about the man she had grown to love. She knew about them, of course, because he had confessed all to her, but clearly it was still raw for the one who stood before her now. Kiera cleared her throat and said, “I am sorry to have added to your distress this day. I know he did terrible deeds but he is a changed man, else I would not have married him. I just wanted you to know. I will no longer trouble you. Forgive me, I meant no harm.”
Kiera stood up to leave, realizing that some wounds were just too deep to heal. She sadly moved from the warmth of the hearth and felt the trepidation weigh upon her like stones. She would not be able to bring any of this conversation to her husband. But suddenly, just as Kiera had made it to the large open archway leading into the main part of the keep, Brielle called, “Wait.”
Stopping in her tracks, Kiera turned back and faced the sister of her husband. There was a definite family resemblance, which comforted her for she had been missing him deeply; especially today; the day of Caleb’s funeral. Brielle was Derek’s blood. She was his kin. Her children were part of Derek too, just as her child was part of Brielle. Their family had been decimated by hate and clan rivalry and Kiera wished that somehow they would be able to mend the rift that had broken this family to pieces.
“Tell him,” Brielle began slowly; tears pooling in her lavender eyes. “Ye’ can tell him that all is forgiven. If the Ancients have granted him a chance at redemption, who am I to deny him? Tell him that I ne’er gave up hope to reconcile with him until I learned of his supposed death. I had thought that all was lost at that time. If the Guardians have seen fit to send ye’ to me, then I am offered a second chance as well to reconcile with the brother that has long been in my heart. Tell him,” Brielle’s voice waivered and her chin trembled a bit. As two tears trekked down her face, she continued, “Tell him, that ere have I loved him and that I am gladdened that he has found love for his own. I wish ye’ both happiness. Please tell him that.”