When Fate Dictates

by Elizabeth Marshall

  “Good day to you too, madam,” he said in an accent I did not recognize, but assumed it to be of wealthy origins.

  “Err, good day to you, sir...” I mumbled in reply, attempting to compose myself and hoist Duncan into position on my hips.

  “Can I be of some assistance to you?” he asked, in a polite, cultured tone.

  I shook my head. “That is very kind of you, sir... but I think we are alright.”

  “Then I shall bid you good day,” he said, raising his hat and reaching for the door. Another great blast of air tore past me as he left the room.

  “That is some wind we have out there little man,” I said to Duncan as I looked around the room for signs of the innkeeper. Finally spotting what looked very much like the person in question, I lowered Duncan to the floor, took his chubby little hand in mine and led him toward the man.

  “Excuse me; are you the gentleman who owns this inn?” I asked, as we arrived within hearing distance of the person in question.

  “Oh aye, that I would be,” he replied in the deep dulcet tones of a baritone. Taken slightly off guard by the tone and volume of his voice, I stared, rather rudely at him, wondering as I did how such a small frame could produce such a great sound. He was a slight, ageing man with a long silver beard and hair to match. “And who would like to know?” he boomed eventually.

  “Oh... I was just wondering if you had any space for my family. There are only the three of us; my husband, my little boy and me. We... we don’t require much, just a warm, dry place to shelter,” I stammered, feeling somewhat pathetic.

  He nodded, smiling a warm and friendly smile. “Oh, aye, I can help you there. Come with me and I will show you what I have available.”

  The room was simply furnished, dry and warm but, for the time being, those were our requirements.

  “Do you think we could have some food?” I inquired, handing him a handful of coins in payment for the room.

  “Aye, I should think I could manage something for the three of you. Do you want the food in your room Mrs.?”

  “Lamont,” I replied helpfully, “and yes, in our room would be very nice, thank you.”

  Having finally handed the horse’s reins to a yawning stable lad, Simon had set about finding a secure place to park the cart. Over the months, the safe storage of the cart had probably been our biggest challenge and cost and the main reason why we had often chosen to sleep in clearings on the side of the road.

  “You look terrible,” I said as he lumbered, weary and windswept through the door and into our room, dumping our travel bags heavily on the floor.

  “Aye, thank you, Corran, I feel much better now,” he said, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

  “Did you find a safe place to store the cart?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Found a chap who was happy to take a small sum in return for the use of a barn,” he paused, looking across the room toward the pot of food the old man had brought up a few minutes earlier. His nose twitched in its direction. “Is that a lamb stew I can smell?”

  “It is, and I was just about to dish some up for Duncan, would you like a bowlful?” I asked, making my way toward the table and preparing to fill two bowls.

  “I don’t think you really need to ask that question.”

  I smiled, spooning a large portion of the stew into the bowl and handing it to him. Duncan was by his side the minute he had the bowl in his hand. I smiled to myself, wondering if all males were as these two appeared: ruled by their stomachs.

  Having dished a smaller portion into the other bowl, I reached over and lifted Duncan onto my knee.

  “Come here little man and let your daddy eat,” I said, making ridiculous clippity-clop sounds as I played horses with the spoon, guiding it toward his eager open mouth. Simon reached for his flask, appreciatively sipping its content.

  “No wonder they call this the water of life,” he said, sighing. Replacing the flask on the table, he looked across at me. “Would you like me to tell you where we are going?”

  I put Duncan’s spoon in the bowl and looked up at him.

  “I thought you were never going to ask,” I replied, sarcasm oozing from my voice.

  “Well if you are going to be like that then I’m not sure I can be bothered,” he said, clearly annoyed with my response.

  “Fine then, don’t bother. You have waited this long to share your plans with me, why not wait till we actually get wherever it is you are taking us.”

  We sat in silence as I irritably spooned the last few mouthfuls of Duncan’s dinner into his mouth. Simon finished his bowl of stew, rose from his chair and without a word swung his coat on and left the room. I piled the bowls on top of each other, and dressed Duncan into his night clothes.

  “Come on little man, it’s time for your bed,” I said, lifting him onto the large double bed and pulling the bed sheet and quilt back.

  “Mummy come to bed?” he asked, patting the pillow. I smiled and bent to kiss him lightly on the forehead.

  “Aye, Duncan, mummy is going to come to bed now.”

  “Daddy, come to bed?” he replied.

  I shook my head. “Not just yet sweetheart, daddy is busy but he will come to bed soon. Close your little eyes and mummy will come and cuddle you.”

  It was late the next morning before either Duncan or I stirred. The morning sun poured in through the window of the room and the birds chirped cheerfully on the ledge outside. It seemed almost impossible that only last night the wind and rain had lashed the same panes of glass upon which the sun now shone. As I sat up, I noticed Simon, fully dressed and sitting at the table, looking over some documents. He lifted his head as he heard me stir.

  “Morning, did you sleep well?” I said, my tone slightly colder than I meant it to be.

  “Aye and I take it you did, by the hour at which you are rising.” I shot him a sharp look but noticed as I did that his face bore a wide grin.

  “Am I forgiven then?” he said.

  I smiled, despite my annoyance. “Aye, you are forgiven,” I said, getting out of bed.

  “What are you doing?” I said, squinting across at the table.

  “Aye, now that would be telling,” he replied mysteriously.

  “No, seriously Simon, let’s not start this again, just tell me what you are doing?”

  He pointed his index finger at a sheet of paper on the table.

  “Well, if you are of a mind to listen now,” he replied, pausing to see if I would take the bait, but on this occasion I choose not to accept it.

  “I am listening,” I said patiently.

  “Do you remember when we stopped in Harrogate?” he said.

  “Duncan thirsty.”

  I turned to see the little boy sitting up in bed, his blond hair all ruffled from sleep.

  “Good morning darling,” I said.

  “Duncan thirsty,” he repeated.

  “Come sweetheart, mummy has some milk here,” I said, reaching over the papers on the table for a small jug of milk and pouring it into a mug. “Yes, I do remember us stopping in Harrogate,” I said, lifting Duncan onto my knee and handing him the mug of milk. Simon got up and walked across to a leather bag on the floor by the bed, out of which he took Duncan’s clothes. Returning to the table he handed them to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking them off him. Noticing that Duncan had finished his milk, I took the mug off the little boy and proceeded to dress him.

  “My pleasure,” he said, sitting back down at the table. “Anyway, I met with a man there who has a lot of dealings up this way. He gave me two contact names and to cut a long story short, I have sold the gold, for a good price, and spent some of it on land just across the border.”

  “Land!” I said with shock. “What on earth are you going to do with land?”

  “I rather hoped to farm it, actually,” he replied with indignation.

  “Why would you want to farm?”

  “Why not?” he replied.

  “You know what I
mean, you are no farmer. You will hate the life.”

  “Corran, if what you told me in York is true then we can’t live where people can know us. All I want in life is you and wee Duncan.”

  “Well, I can’t say that I am unhappy about the idea. You and our boy are all I want in life too. Before the Red Coats came, farming was all I knew and it was a good life... a hard, but good life.”

  I set a now fully dressed Duncan onto the floor. He ran straight over to his daddy, who swung him into his arms.

  “I love you little fella,” he said, ruffling the golden locks on his head.

  “Are you sure about this Simon?”

  He smiled, looking down at our son. “It’s a bit late if I’m not,” he said, his eyes glowing with the promise of a new adventure. “I have never been so sure of anything Corran.”

  I nodded, but remained unconvinced that the life of a farmer was one that would ever satisfy Simon.

  “We will leave soon, it’s about thirty miles from here, I don’t want to stop on the way. I have a lot of money on me and there are people who know I have it. It won’t be safe to take too long over the trip.”

  ******

  CHAPTER 19

  The moon partially lit the winding road, through small wooded valleys and up rolling hills. I had no idea how he would know the land when we came upon it but he seemed confident of our tracks so I did not doubt that before sunrise, we would arrive at our new home.

  “It is not too far now, Corran, is the wee lad alright?” Simon asked, taking his eyes off the winding road for a moment to glance down at Duncan.

  “He is fine,” I replied, pulling the shawl higher around the little boy’s chin. He was sandwiched between us, his head resting gently on my lap.

  “I wonder what he will think of his new home,” I said.

  “I rather hope he will like it,” replied Simon, pulling on the reins to slow the horse.

  “He will have forgotten the house in York by now,” I said reflectively.

  “Aye, I should think he will have. We are here,” he said, lifting one hand off the reins and pointing to his right. All I could see was black, with the odd shadow of light cast from the moon.

  “How can you know that?” I asked.

  “Because I know where I am going. I have been through here many times before, when I was a soldier. We are very close to the border and the army uses this road when traveling from Edinburgh to England.”

  “Are you not worried that the Red Coats will come this way again then?”

  He shook his head. “No, I am not worried. I don’t expect they will come looking for me now. They think I’m dead, and if they do come, it will be for cattle, not me. But that doesn’t mean I will be unprepared for them.”

  We were moving slowly, up a small hill, the cart bumping and banging nosily behind us.

  “That cart sounds as though it’s about to fall apart,” I said, my voice wobbling with every bump we jolted over.

  “It doesn’t matter now, Corran. We are here. The cart can collapse for all I care, it doesn’t owe us anything.” I could hear the smile in his voice and knew he felt as relieved as I was that our journey was at a safe end.

  He pulled the horse to a stop. In the moonlight I could just about make out the faint outline of a small stone-built cottage, rather like the houses in the glen.

  “Let’s get Duncan into the cottage and a bed made up for him, and then we can set about unpacking the cart.”

  I nodded, lifted the little boy into my arms and passed him down to Simon, who was now standing beside me. I climbed down from the cart and followed him toward the cottage. The door was ajar, so Simon lifted his elbow and gave it a gentle push. It creaked open and a bat flew out above our heads. I gasped, not having expected any nocturnal visitors and then reminded myself that we were the strangers, not the bat.

  “Simon, this place is crawling with creatures,” I said gasping again as a mouse scurried across the floor and over my foot.

  “It will be. No one has lived here for a long time. We will claim it for our own soon enough, but tonight we will have to be content to share.”

  He handed the sleeping child back to me.

  “You watch the lad and I will fetch a quilt or two for him. Put a quilt on the floor and cover him with another. It will do for one night.”

  The floor was damp, dirty and uncomfortable but none of this seemed to impede Simon and Duncan’s ability to sleep. It was only when the morning sun began to rise in the sky that Simon so much as stirred. Stretching lazily he smiled over at me as I sat watching him.

  “Sleep well?” he asked.

  “No, I didn’t sleep at all. This place is awful,” I said unkindly.

  “You expect too much, be patient lass.”

  “It’s not that I expect anything, Simon, but it is crawling with creatures and thick with dirt, and I have the smell of damp in my nose. I would rather sleep outside, where the air is fresh and clean and every creature known to man doesn’t believe you have taken their home.”

  He shook his head, muttering to himself.

  “‘Creatures who believe you have taken their home’. What are you on about woman?”

  “Duncan, don’t put that in your mouth. Dirty!” I shouted, as the little boy raised a fist full of soil to his mouth. He looked at me wide eyed and startled at my tone. I moved toward him, opening his tiny hand, knocking the soil onto the floor and dusting the palm of his hand clean.

  “I am just tired Simon, sorry. I don’t mean to sound so ungrateful. We have been so long sleeping on the side of the road or track, I will get used to a home again.”

  “Bring the wee lad and come with me. I will show you what there is to love about this place,” he said, moving toward the cottage door. I took Duncan’s hand and we followed his daddy outside. I jumped as a barn owl left a wood store about three or four steps to the left of the cottage, swooping dramatically in front of us. I watched it, following the wide expanse of its wings until it was nothing more than a tiny gray dot in front of the trees. We stood silently with our backs to the stone wall of the cottage, staring into the distance. A stream babbled somewhere to our left. Tiny little rabbits hopped playfully up a bank, whilst a polecat scurried into some dense shrubbery. For as far as the eye could see stretched gentle, rolling, green hills and fertile forests. Sheep dotted green hills, grazing on the lush pastures; the sound of waking cows echoed in the distance, whilst wild birds of every imaginable type swarmed above us. Pheasants honked nosily in the long grass and shrubs of the fields, taking occasionally to clumsy panicked flight. A lonely, brilliant white star clung on to the night sky, but this morning’s light belonged to the sun which rose gloriously over the hills around us.

  Even little Duncan stood still, transfixed by the magnificence of the sights and sounds of this waking world.

  I turned to Simon and smiled. “Thank you,” I whispered, “It is perfect.”

  “It is my pleasure Corran!” he replied, a faint smile curling the side of his lips. “I noticed some dry wood last night when I pulled the cart under the store. I will fetch some and make a fire in the cottage.”

  I hadn’t noticed a fireplace and turned to face the cottage; looking up at the roof as I did. Indeed, Simon was right, a brick built chimney protruded neatly from the thatch. In the broad light of day the cottage looked quite welcoming. A good clean, some straw on the floor, a welcoming fire, a few bits of basic furniture, and everything about this place could indeed be perfect.

  “You want to come with daddy to get some wood?” Simon said, smiling kindly down toward the little boy.

  “Me come with daddy, me come with daddy,” answered Duncan excitedly, as he jumped up and down in front of Simon.

  “Come on then lad, let’s go and find some nice dry wood to light a fire for mummy.”

  Inspired by the beauty around me and feeling a decided prickle of excitement at the thought of our new lives, I set about cleaning the cottage and unpacking our chests. I had not
opened most of the chests since we had left York, and had all but forgotten what was inside most of them. So it was with great delight and pleasure that I reacquainted myself with our possessions.

  By the time Simon and Duncan returned, the cottage had started to look and feel more like a home. I took the wood from Simon and proceeded to light a fire.

  “Simon, do you think the chimney is clean enough to light this fire?”

  “Well light it and we will soon find out,” he said, laughing.

  “And where did you get all that hay from?” I asked, as he dumped a bale on the floor.

  “Ahh, now that would be telling,” he paused.

  “No Simon, where did you find it?”

  “It was in the wood store,” he replied finally, ending the suspense.

  “That’s odd; I thought no one had lived here for many years? Who could have left a bale of hay here?”

  “I think people have passed along this way over the years and used the cottage and store for shelter, probably feeding and resting their horses here. The straw was most likely bought on the way and forgotten here when they left.”

  I nodded, an uneasy feeling passing over me. “Do you not worry that these people might expect to use this place for shelter again?”

  “Aye, that they might, but we need not fear them Corran. It is only the army that will bring trouble to our door.”

  “What will you do if the army does come?” I asked.

  “Trust me, Corran, I will not let any harm come to you or Duncan.”

  “I love you Simon,” I said, giving him a hug. He smiled and kissed me gently on the cheek.

  “And I you lass,” he replied. “Now what would you like for dinner? We have pheasant or rabbit on tonight’s menu,” he offered.

  “What’s easiest to catch?” I asked.

  He smiled, moving toward the door. “Well the pheasants fell at my feet and died, but the rabbit was a little bugger to catch. Either way they are both now caught.”