by Jackie Ivie
“It is well to remember. It is well that we have that capacity. It is horrible, too. Let me tell you my story. It was a chill morn, not unlike now, when Phineas asked us to accompany him. He took Robert MacIlvray, Leroy FitzHugh and myself.”
They were murmuring at mention of the names, but Morgan didn’t know why.
“Phineas wanted to teach a certain lass a lesson. He told us he didn’t wish to harm her, he just wished to show her the error of her ways. I dinna’ know as we approached the house what he meant. He told us he only meant to scare them. We came by way of the loch. We docked our boat silently. We went into the house.
“The old woman was the lone one awake as we crept in, and then Phineas and Robert and Leroy were upon her. They were na’ scaring anyone. They were raping, they were punishing, and it was na’ even the correct lass. I remember the screaming. I remember the blood. I remember backing out the door and retching my belly out on the soil. I remember Phineas laughing when it was done, and then he was pouring the contents of his sporran all over the woman and the table in order to set fire to it. Dear God, I only hope she was already dead.”
Morgan was shaking. It started as small tremors and grew.
“Then, I heard the screaming from the back of the house. That structure took to flame easily, I recollect thinking. I dinna’ know fire swept that fast. Explosions had sent flames shooting up and outside the windows. I heard the screaming and I snuck around to see why.”
Morgan’s shaking was intensifying, to the point her body was hitting the ridges of carving on the altar’s base. Plato gathered her into his arms and starting rubbing hers, but it wasn’t helping.
“I saw the lass we’d come to torment. She was swelled and huge with child, and she was screaming at a wee one about being a killer and such. I remember wondering why she’d be screaming that at such a little one, and then Phineas saw the woman. The roar he gave was indescribable. I knew then what he was going to do.
“I prayed for the wee one to hide, and miraculously, she did. She dinna’ see what Phineas did to Elspeth. I dinna’ want to, either, but I was transfixed with the horror, as he took her and hit her with both fists. Took her and hit her, took her and hit her, until Robert and Leroy pulled him off and started running for the boat.
“I almost missed them, for they were intent on escaping the evil they’d done, and I was sick with the evil I’d been a party to. Phineas made us swear to secrecy. He was covered with blood, his face a mass of scratches, and he made us vow never to tell a soul what had happened. He said there was none left to witness. He’d made certain of it.
“I knew the falsehood of that, for I knew the wee one had survived, but I kept my vow. I kept silent. I never said a word about that morn, or about anything. I would have taken the secret to my grave, if not for Zander’s words to me two days past.”
Morgan’s shaking had reached a plateau of sorts, and simply held her there, and Plato responded by continuing his rubbing of her upper arms, his hands gentle and warm. His touch was the only thing she was aware of feeling.
“Tell them the rest, Ewan. Tell them everything.” Zander commanded at his side.
The old man took a gulp of air and spoke again. “Phineas told all who asked that a she-wolf of the KilCreggars had gotten to him. He explained away the marks on his face, and the blood that would na’ wash from his plaid, no matter how many dunkings he gave it. He told a wild story of being beset, and none of us contradicted him, but you already know that much.
“’Twas Leroy that got it first. I doona’ ken how many of you remember it, but Leroy FitzHugh was taken one morn, taken and had his manhood sliced clean off and a claymore buried in his chest, and then he was draped in KilCreggar plaid. That was the start of it. The killing. The feud. And it was no KilCreggar that started it. It was a FitzHugh. Worse yet, it was the new laird of the FitzHugh. It was Phineas FitzHugh.”
The crowd was absolutely silent. They might as well have been statues.
“Tell them why now, Ewan.” Zander’s voice was gentle, probably due to the man’s sobbing right beside him. “Tell them. Go on.”
Morgan’s shaking was subsiding into trembling. Plato held her still, stroking the skin of her upper arms and supporting her back.
“Five years earlier, when Phineas was na’ yet the laird, but the heir, he saw a lass not unlike the one Zander has brought tonight to wed with. She was winsome, she was as tall as he was, and she was brave. He courted her, and she laughed in his face. Then, she turned down the rich heir to the Clan FitzHugh, and wed a man with no land and no title, a man named Richard Beams. Phineas never forgot the insult. No matter how many women he took, he said he always said he saw the black-haired lass that had laughed at his suit and wed a pauper.”
Richard Beams. Morgan remembered that name now. Elspeth’s husband. Her shaking ceased, easing out of her back and leaving her absolutely calm. Then, Zander started speaking again.
“So, now you know, my clansmen. Now, you know the truth, and I wish you to also know—”
“You arrange such a spectacle, and dinna’ invite your sovereign and king? I would have the reason!”
Morgan’s eyes widened as The Bruce used every timbre of his large voice from the back of the cathedral. Then he was walked steadily and rapidly up the aisle, a retinue of guards at his back.
“My liege.” Zander dropped to a knee as The Bruce reached him, and the king placed a hand on his shoulder.
“We have fought so long and hard to unify Scotland and cease feuding, and now you seek to bring an old one back to life? What am I to do with you, young FitzHugh?”
Zander stood, dwarfing everyone. “You are to stay and witness my wedding, sire,” he answered.
“And who is it are you wedding?”
Zander turned and held his hand out to Morgan. “I am wedding the fair Morganna KilCreggar, Your Majesty.”
The king looked at her, and she saw the instant recognition.
“Aye, my liege,” Zander started orating again, turning to encompass all in the room. “I am wedding the sister to my squire, and I wish all FitzHugh clan here now to know, that my squire is not from ‘no clan or no name’. His name is Morgan KilCreggar. He is the twin of my bride. You have already been applauding and accepting a KilCreggar in your midst. Now you know that it has been for just and fair reasons.”
There was a wild reaction to this and Zander had to put his hand out for quiet.
“I also wish you to know that I am requesting here and now, that the king change my allegiance. I wish to have another name restored to earth. I wish to wed with a KilCreggar, and I wish to be known as Zander KilCreggar-FitzHugh. I wish our bairns to carry the name of KilCreggar-FitzHugh. I wish my wife to be known as Morganna KilCreggar-FitzHugh. It was for that purpose I had this tartan woven. While it is not exact to the KilCreggar plaid, it is just and right that it has blue and green woven within its sett. These are the colors I wish for my new clan, Your Majesty. This is the wedding gift I wish for my bride.”
“’Tis a poor wedding gift, I would say,” the king responded.
Morgan gasped. She wasn’t the only one.
“Poor?” Zander choked on the word.
“Aye, poor. What clan can do without land, without a title? On your knees, Zander KilCreggar-FitzHugh. On your knees so that I may confer the title of Earl upon you, and bequeath you with half the FitzHugh holdings. This is a fair wedding gift. Morganna?”
The Bruce was holding out his hand for her, and Plato helped her rise and find her legs, although they felt the consistency of very wet peat bog. When she reached them, and gave the king her hand, he bowed. Then, he gave her to the kneeling FitzHugh, at their feet.
Zander held her hand to his forehead. He was shaking more than she had been, she realized, and everyone was watching him do it.
“Will you have me to husband, Morganna KilCreggar? Will you stand at my side and help me found and grow the new clan of KilCreggar-FitzHugh? Will you wed with me now, and cleave u
nto me, and love and honor me as I would you?”
Midnight-blue eyes looked up at her, and Morgan responded deep in her very core. “I am not satisfied, my lord,” she replied.
“You are...na’?” Zander’s gaze dropped.
“Nay,” she replied. “For I will na’ accept your new plaid unless the sett carries equal amounts of FitzHugh blue and green, as KilCreggar black and gray. That is my condition.”
He rose slowly, and she knew there was a commotion happening all about them. She just didn’t hear a word of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Oh, my God!” Zander sat up, groaning, and he was clutching a hand to his forehead. “What have I done?”
Morgan took longer to awaken, and she stretched in the pre-dawn light. “What have you done, love?” she whispered.
“I doona’ want to be a laird! I canna’ even get structure in my own life. How am I to do it for an entire clan?”
Morgan giggled.
“No wonder my mum was for this plan. She is even now, at my house, restoring order...or creating order to the place.”
“Doona fash yourself, my lord, Earl KilCreggar-FitzHugh,” Morgan whispered. “I will help you.”
Zander looked over his shoulder at her. “Help? What help you gave me throughout the night leaves me weak-kneed and fit for nothing save plying a needle with the ladies of my clan.”
Morgan giggled again. She had been the insatiable one. That much was true. What wasn’t true was Zander was weak anywhere, especially the legs. “Let me see,” she said, trying to lift their cover.
He held it to him protectively. “I have duties to attend to, my lady. I should probably see to my new clansmen. You would steal my strength from that?”
“I would,” she replied.
He grinned. “I also have to set weavers to spinning once again. Do you na’ realize what you’ve done?”
“What is it I have done?” she asked, sliding a hand along the line of his thigh, over his knee and to his ankle, where it was outlined by the sheet.
“You have caused the sett I had designed, ordered woven and made into feile-breacans to be discarded, while all our sheep will need to be re-shorn, the wool carded and spun, re-dyed, woven again. Why, my new clansmen will be long naked a-fore we get them their new colors.”
“They can wear FitzHugh until then,” she remarked, running her fingernail back up. “They dinna’ appear to worry last eve.”
“I have declared death to the FitzHugh laird,” Zander said solemnly. “I will na’ have my new clan clothed the same as the man I must kill.”
“I vowed to kill Phineas, and I will,” Morgan replied, lifting her hand from his hip.
“Oh no, you will na’. You will stay at our home this winter, grow our bairn, and bring it to life. I will na’ allow you to kill anyone. I may not even allow you to hunt. That is how much this means to me.”
“Zander! I live to hunt!”
“Then, we must find targets that are more life-like for you.”
“You are turning into a tyrant, and we’ve been wed less than a day. I doona’ think I like it.”
“We’ve been wed forever, my love, just a half-day in this lifetime. I will bend. If we have need of meat, you may accompany me on the hunt.”
“Accompany you? Why, you over-blown, over-muscled, big-headed, arrogant—”
“Doona’ forget handsome,” Zander interrupted.
Morgan’s lips twitched, and then she was laughing.
“Ha! The wife laughs at me, her new husband. Doona’ think I will let that go overlooked!”
He was tickling her, making her do all sorts of chortling, and then he sobered. “You realize how little you have laughed since I have known you, Morganna? ’Tis a joyous sound, too.”
“There was na’ much to smile about, my lord, Zander KilCreggar-FitzHugh.”
“’Tis a mouthful, our new name, my love. You doona’ think it too much? I would ask for KilCreggar to be restored, and take it, if that is your wish.”
She wasn’t laughing anymore. She was having a hard time keeping the tears at bay. “Oh...Zander,” she stammered, catching a breath between the words.
“I can bring you to tears, too. ’Tis a good thing for Plato. I thought him the lone one with that gift. Here, love. Doona’ start a storm of weeping. They will think I abused you, rather than the other way about.”
She giggled again. “I dinna’ abuse...you.”
“Nay?” He lay back and stretched, making the bedstead creak. “I am well-used, then. I will be worthless to my king until eve. Mayhap not even then.”
“What about your clansmen? I mean, our new clansmen? What would you have of them if their new laird lays about all day?”
Zander lifted his head and gave her a level look. “A newly named KilCreggar-FitzHugh man can out-drink any man. Why, they can put down an ocean of whiskey. I believe they proved it last eve. There’s na’ a one of them desirous of moving until eve. Trust me.”
“Zander?” she asked.
“Aye?”
“Those men that came to you last eve and swore fealty? They are all coming with us? What of the FitzHugh clan?”
“Those men were already my men, Morganna. They fought at my side, and have been with me since we reached manhood. ’Twas not a one of them that would na’ follow me. Were I to swear allegiance to the devil, they would follow. I would ha’ been insulted had they but tried to keep from following me.”
“You have followers, too?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I am a KilCreggar-FitzHugh, you ken? I have a great orator’s voice. I give speeches. I have followers.”
“I dinna’ mean to insult,” she whispered.
“You?” He snorted. “Insult? Why, if I remember a-right, you called me small enough to rival walnuts at one point. Insult?”
She giggled again. “I have since changed my opinion, sir.”
Zander grinned. “I can learn to love that laugh sound you make, my love. I truly can.”
He was holding her in place with his chin at her shoulder blade and rolling it about. His hands were everywhere, too. Morgan clucked her tongue as she caught at him beneath the sheets, time and again.
“But, what of FitzHugh, Zander?” she asked.
He lifted his head and sighed. “You will na’ rest until Phineas is no longer of this world, will you? Verra well. I will don my new colors, and I will go and do battle with him. Then, I will return. You had best prepare yourself for it, too. When I return I’ll not accept meek submission from you. I will expect to be attacked again. Like last night. Only longer. Can you grant me that, when I return?”
“I am serious, Zander,” she replied.
He sighed again. “You have not been working on your next-morning love-talk, Morganna, for it has not improved. My brother, Ari, has sworn to bring Phineas to justice. I have sworn the same. I will na’ accept Ari’s idea of justice, unless it matches my own. Now, can we go back to being a newly wedded man and wife?”
“I meant...will the FitzHugh clan seek the land back from us?”
“Why would they? These are my brothers you speak of, Morganna. They are as penitent as I am over the demise of the KilCreggar clan. Why, there was not one amongst us that was na’ at the battle. We fought. We killed. We celebrated. I dinna’ seek to cause you grief, I only wish you to know of the deep sorrow, remorse, and guilt we feel. We dinna’ know we should have been on our knees begging for forgiveness. We are, now.”
Morgan’s heart twinged, the bairn in her belly moved and her eyes swam. Then, she blinked the moisture away. She didn’t want to spend another moment with regret. She wanted a future, and for once, it was in sight.
“You are much too serious, Zander KilCreggar-FitzHugh. I hope you doona’ intend to speak this way all day,” she replied.
His eyebrows rose. Then, he grinned. “Why do you ask of it, then?”
“I only ask if there might be a problem with your brothers over it. The king ceded half of Fitz
Hugh land to us. Surely that is enough to start a clan war, isna’ it?”
“You need a lesson in the man you have married. That is it. You have little regard for him. I doona’ know what I must do to change it. That, I doona’”
“Is this going to be another ‘I am the most handsome, glorious, well-endowed, strongest’ speech again?” Morgan teased.
“It is a good thing I am all of that, too. Your lack of regard would shred a lesser man. I pity the poor fool that tries to best my wife.”
“Zander—” she said, in a threatening tone.
“Oh, verra well. I will answer your question. The FitzHugh clan will na’ worry over my possession of the land. ’Twas my skills that won us most of it, wife. In fact, my sword arm was what brought most of North Pitt Vale into FitzHugh hands. So, in truth, I already owned it.”
“You already owned it. How?”
“I dinna’ do battle simply for blood-lust, love. I did it for spoils. I took land. I took gold. I took maidens.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You had better be teasing me, Zander KilCreggar-FitzHugh.”
“By the time you say my name, I’ve an excuse dreamt up, and aye, I was telling a story. Not a large story, but a story. I dinna’ take any maidens. They came willingly.”
She hit him square in his rippled abdomen. He responded by curling into a sit-up and pantomiming an injury worthy of a sword. Morgan sat up, cross-legged, and watched him.
The king had spirited them away from the cathedral with a stealth worthy of Zander’s showmanship. It wasn’t but a half-league to this stone house, belonging to a mayor or like official. It was also warm, had a myriad of servant lasses to giggle, slap each other and promise healthy portions of food and mead delivered when it was requested, and complete privacy. That was another of The Bruce’s gifts to the new laird of the KilCreggar-FitzHugh clan. It was a wondrous gift, too.
“They truly will na’ wish us harm?” she asked.
“My mum is already at my home. Were you na’ listening to me, earlier? The lady of FitzHugh rules the castle. She has already decreed what I received as just and fair. Aside from that fact, I must tell you that some of my land used to be KilCreggar land.”