Just Beyond Tomorrow

by Bertrice Small

  One of her younger nephews spoke up. “If the English want the royal Stuart back, Flanna, then, why doesna he simply go home to them? He be the grandson of our last Jamie Stuart, but he was nae born in Scotland. He has the name, but they say he dinna look like a Stuart. He is nae a Scot. He is English.”

  “He is first the King of Scotland,” Flanna said. “If ye could but hae seen him and talked wi’ him like I did, Ian, ye would understand. They say my husband’s brother looks like his da, Prince Henry Stuart, and I tell ye truly that the king does nae share a resemblance wi’ Charlie. But what difference does it make what he looks like? He is the king! He needs our help!”

  “Why should we help him to leave us, sister?” Aulay asked her. “These Stuarts are soft men. They now prefer the pleasures and grand living in England to Scotland. If Charles Stuart would be king of Scotland, then let him be, but I’ll nae help him to go back to England.”

  “The English murdered his da!” Flanna shouted. “Even the assembly of the kirk has condemned it. Are we Scots to sit idly by and nae revenge ourselves on those wicked men?”

  “We are isolated, Flanna,” her brother roared back, “but nae so isolated that we dinna hear the news. Cromwell and his ilk still occupy Edinburgh. The king came to Aberdeen last month to raise troops and could nae do it. Do ye nae understand, sister, or are ye so foolish that yer eyes are blinded by his silken manner and a silkier tongue. The Stuarts were always the best liars in Christendom, and even more so when it came to the lasses. Why, there was a time when most of the families in Scotland had spawned a Stuart bastard or two. They are charmers to be certain, and I think, little sister, that ye hae been charmed. I suspect ’twas a damned good thing yer husband caught up wi’ ye, or ye might hae been seduced yerself,” he chuckled.

  The hall erupted with good-natured laughter at Aulay’s observation.

  Flanna felt her temper rising. Aulay could not know how close he had come to the truth, but she was not going to allow him to spoil her plans to aid the king, to gain the earldom of Brae back for her family. She waited until the mirth had died, and then she said scathingly, “I never thought the day would come when a Brodie of Killiecairn would cry coward, Aulay. Thank God our da is in his grave this night.”

  Aulay Brodie’s face darkened with his anger. “Flanna,” he said in a tight voice, “if ye were a man . . .”

  “Ye would call me out?” she mocked him. “Do it! Ye were never any good wi’ a sword, Aulay. I could beat ye wi’ one hand tied behind my back. I could beat all of ye! Now, who among ye are brave enough to come to Brae wi’ me, where I will assemble my levy for the king?” She turned her back on the laird of Killiecairn, who was now almost apoplectic with his fury. “Will ye remain here and be naught, hae naught?”

  Her nephew Ian spoke up again. “We’re nae cowards, Flanna, but we be tired of wars that hae naught to do wi’ us. If we went wi’ ye, and managed to come home again one day, what would we hae accomplished? We might be minus a limb, or an eye, for few escape battle unscathed. Perhaps we would return wi’ some small cache of plunder we had managed to conceal from others, but it would be small and would gain us naught. We would still be at the mercy of our laird wi’out land, wi’out livestock. But there is a way for those of us who want to leave Killiecairn and seek a new life. We can go to the New World. There is opportunity there for men who are willing to work hard. There is land to be had and fortunes to be made! I will nae gie up my life for some dispossessed English king wi’ a Scots name, Flanna; but I will dare to cross the sea, and I will welcome any who would go wi’ me!”

  There was a stunned silence in the hall, and then Flanna’s nephews began shouting, almost as one, “I’ll go wi’ ye, Ian Brodie!”

  “Now see what ye hae done, ye troublesome wench!” her sister-in-law Una said angrily. “How many mothers’ hearts will be broken because of what ye hae begun here this night?”

  “Dinna vent yer wrath on me!” Flanna protested heatedly. “I want them to remain in Scotland and fight for the king. ’Tis Ian Brodie who speaks of leaving.”

  “He would nae hae the courage to speak up had ye not offered the laddies a choice of death in the king’s service, remaining here wi’ naught, or leaving to make their fortunes,” Una snapped back.

  “If they will nae fight for their king, they had best be gone,” Flanna responded. “If they prefer to serve themselves rather than their king, than Scotland, then let them depart and take their disgrace wi’ them! My father would be shamed to see the Brodies of Killiecairn behave thusly!”

  “If ye believe that, sister,” Aulay said angrily, “then ye dinna know our da at all. Survival was his motto, even as ’tis the Leslies’ of Glenkirk. A clan canna outlive its enemies if it sends its men to every war the king would fight. Charles Stuart has naught to do wi’ me, or mine, but if there are those in the hall tonight who wish to join my sister’s levy I’ll nae stay them, nor will I stop those of ye who, like Ian Brodie, desire to go adventuring in the New World. We are a large family, and the truth is there is nae enough for all of our children and grandchildren. Perhaps ’tis time now for some to go. I will do what I can to help ye, Ian, and those who would follow ye, but ye must gie me yer word that ye will help any who would follow after ye once ye hae found yer place and hae settled it.”

  “Ye hae my word, uncle,” Ian Brodie said, a pleased grin upon his face. “Gie us five years, and we will send for any who would follow us, and for wives as well. I would travel only wi’ lads, for ’twill nae be an easy way we take.”

  “And who will follow the king?” Flanna demanded, still determined.

  The hall grew silent.

  “Ye’re craven dastards, all of ye!” she finally shouted at them.

  Callum Brodie jumped up from his place and shouted at his sister, “Dinna dare accuse us, Flanna Leslie! The Brodies hae always done their duty to their clan and to country. Ye, however, hae nae done yer duty to yer man yet. Go home and hae bairns like a respectable woman should! What right hae ye to demand that we send our sons and grandsons to be cannon fodder for this Sassenach king!”

  “He is a royal Stuart king,” she cried.

  “An English king,” Callum replied, and there were murmurs of assent in the hall.

  “Then, tomorrow I will go to the Gordons,” Flanna told them. “And after that I importune the Campbells, the Hays, and any others who will hear me. I gave my word to the king, and I will keep it!”

  “Tomorrow,” Aulay Brodie told his youngest sibling, “ye’ll go back to Glenkirk. I’ll take ye myself.”

  “I’ll nae go!” she cried defiantly.

  “For God’s sake, lass, ye’re wi’ bairn!” Aulay replied, frustrated.

  “I . . . ye dinna know what ye’re saying!” Flanna responded, flushing.

  “Well, I do!” Una Brodie interrupted the argument. “I know when a lass is ripening wi’ her bairn as I already told ye, and ye surely are, Flanna Leslie! What’s more, ye know ye are, and sly vixen ye are, yer man doesna know it yet, for ye’re so determined to hae yer way in this foolishness. Well, I’ll travel to Glenkirk wi’ ye tomorrow, too, and if ye dinna tell Patrick Leslie the truth of the matter, then I will tell him even as I told my husband from whom I hae borne nae secrets. Now sit down and shut yer mouth!”

  A ripple of laughter ran through the hall. Flanna glared furiously at her large assembled family, but then she sat down. “I’m nae a child,” she muttered to Una.

  “Then, behave like the duchess ye are,” Una said low. “Ye’ll sleep wi’ me tonight. I’m nae of a mind to awake in the morning and find ye hae bolted off. I’ll nae hae Aulay in difficulties wi’ yer husband.”

  “But, Una, I promised the king,” Flanna almost wailed.

  “I dinna think a king, even a king of Scotland, would take the promise of a country lass verra seriously,” Una replied scathingly. “ ’Tis as Aulay said. The Stuarts are noted for their charm, Flanna, and the king was being polite. I’m certain he was verra touched
wi’ yer offer, for it shows yer loyalty and duty to country; but nae for a moment do I think he believed ye could raise a levy for him. And ye hae the perfect excuse now. Ye can plead yer belly. ’Twould nae be expected that a woman, full wi’ her bairn, could ride about the countryside raising soldiers for the king.” She patted Flanna’s hand comfortingly. “Ye’re worn, Flanna, for the early months are difficult, especially so the first time; and ye hae done yer duty by yer da admirably. Come, and I’ll put ye to bed, lassie.” Una arose, and held out her hand to Flanna.

  Sighing, Flanna stood up and took the offered hand. “I am tired,” she admitted.

  “That’s my good lass,” Una said soothingly as they left the hall. “ ’Tis confusing, the first time ye’re wi’ bairn. ’Tis the best time, and ’tis the worst time. At least that is how I felt. Yer man is going to be verra pleased wi’ ye, Flanna, especially if ’tis a laddie.”

  “The bairn will be what God wills it to be,” Flanna replied. God’s boots, she was tired all of a sudden, but she was also confused. What was the matter with the men in her family? She had thought that they would leap at the chance to defend their king. Instead, they had refused, and now the younger men spoke openly about leaving Killiecairn, of leaving Scotland to find their fortunes in the New World. They would not have dared voice such thoughts while her father was alive, Flanna considered.

  “Ye’re too quiet,” her sister-in-law said as they removed their outer garments and prepared for bed. “What do ye think about?”

  Flanna finished peeing in the chamber pot and climbed into the bed she would share with Una. “I dinna understand,” she said.

  Una climbed into bed next to the younger woman. “Understand what, lassie?” she inquired.

  “I dinna understand why the men will nae fight for the king. The Brodies hae always answered a call to arms and been brave.” Flanna sighed. “Why will they nae be now, Una?”

  Una sighed, too, and then she began. “For centuries the clans hae warred against one another. There isna a foot of clan land in Scotland that hae nae been watered wi’ blood. Like Glenkirk, Killiecairn has been protected from the worst of it because of our isolation. Our most immediate neighbors, the Gordons and the Leslies, are more powerful, and we were nae considered a threat by them. Once, Flanna, the Hays held land here, but they are long gone, and their lands disbursed by marriage, by conquest. The year I was born, the old queen down in England died, and our King James inherited her throne. He could scarce wait to leave Scotland. It was never a peaceful place, nor are we an easy people. More Stuart kings hae died of violence than in their beds. King James was a peaceful man, and so he hurried down into England wi’ his queen and his bairns. I dinna know if he ever came back again, but while Scotland has belonged to the Stuart kings, since the days of that particular king, we hae nae had a king in residence.

  “And if the powerful men who made the Stuarts’ lives miserable were difficult before they departed, they hae been more difficult after he left us wi’ no king, or court, to amuse them, to command their attention. The English, ’tis said, despised our King Jamie, for he was a Scot, but they had no choice but to accept him. He was the legitimate successor to their old queen. But he was enjoying himself so much in that peaceful land, he dinna pay a great deal of attention to what the English thought. And when he died, his son, the first Charles, inherited. While still considered a Scot, for he was born here, this king fared a wee bit better, for he had lived most of his life in England, but then the troubles began. Ye see, ’twas an elder brother who was supposed to follow King Jamie, but he died young. They say he was greatly loved by the English.”

  “That would be the not-so-royal Stuart’s sire,” Flanna said.

  “Aye,” Una responded. “But, instead, the younger brother inherited, and he was nae a good king, or so ’tis said of him. I dinna really understand what this English war is all about, but it cost that Stuart king his life. Now his son, English-born, hae been crowned at Scone, and ye, yerself, saw it, Flanna. But he is nae satisfied to remain here and rule us. He would go back to England and leave us. But to do so he must raise an army and fight his way back to London.

  “There is nothing moral about war, Flanna. There is naught just about it. Land is ravaged. Crops destroyed. Innocent women, bairns, and old folk are slaughtered. Our history is filled wi’ war, and frankly we hae had enough of it. ’Tis as the men told ye earlier; we dinna know this king. While we will respect the laws of the land, we feel nae obligation to go to war wi’ him. We are tired. Can ye understand?”

  “But there are so many here now at Killiecairn,” Flanna said. “Our young men canna wed because there is nae place for them to bring wives. If they dinna wed, the clan will die out. If they go wi’ the king, they can make their fortunes, Una.”

  “If they survive,” she responded grimly.

  “But ye heard Ian tonight, Una. He will leave Killiecairn and take others wi’ him. At least those who fight for the king will come home one day. Will Brodie sons return from the New World, or will they remain to make their lives there?”

  “I dinna know,” Una said, “but Ian and many of the younger ones will go. The truth is they hae been speaking secretly on it for months now. When ye spoke up so boldly tonight, they took the opportunity to speak up, too. ’Tis the sensible solution. There is land to be hae in this New World, and many Scots are going now. We will help them where we can.”

  “I didna know,” Flanna said softly.

  “They could nae speak on it while the old man lived,” Una said with a chuckle. “Lachlann Brodie would nae want to lose a single clansman. He believed our strength was in our numbers, but we are well protected now by Glenkirk. To quarrel wi’ us is to quarrel wi’ the Leslies. Besides, we hae naught but our lands and cattle. ’Tis nae a great fortune. Certainly nae enough to start a feud over.”

  “Will the Leslies eventually suffer the fate of the Brodies?” Flanna wondered aloud.

  “The Leslies hae managed in each generation to see that all the lord’s sons and daughters were given something. If this king ye admire is yer friend, Flanna, then one day ye may regain the title that belonged to yer mam’s family and gie it to a son. There is usually a way to do anything ye want to do, lassie, but we Brodies of Killiecairn are nae wealthy or powerful enough for such maneuverings.”

  “I hae certainly considered regaining the Earldom of Brae for a second son,” Flanna said.

  “Ye see, lassie,” her sister-in-law said. “Ye’re thinking like the Duchess of Glenkirk, though ye be wed only a short time. Now, enough of yer chatter. Let us get some sleep.”

  Una Brodie was quickly snoring, but Flanna lay awake for a while. She was very disappointed that she would not be able to raise a levy for the king, but perhaps her plan had been just a trifle ambitious. She was a country lass as Una had suggested so pointedly. She had been wed to Patrick for only a short time. There would be other ways of making her mark so that she would not be remembered as the do-naught duchess. Laying upon her back, she folded her hands over her belly. It was still flat, but beneath her palms she knew her child was growing.

  Suddenly she could barely wait to return home to Glenkirk. Patrick was going to be so excited over the impending birth of his heir. She might not be able to fight for her king, or give him the troops he so desperately needed, but she was doing her duty by the Leslies of Glenkirk. By the end of the year, her child would be born. At peace with herself, Flanna fell asleep now, wondering as she did if the coming child meant that she and Patrick could no longer enjoy their pleasures. She would have to ask Una about it in the morning, and she did.

  “Ye’ll enjoy each other for a while longer, but ye must be careful now,” Una told her as they prepared to depart Killiecairn. “And ye must nae be disturbed if he eases himself on some clanswoman when ye’re too big to mount. Men will do that, but it means naught to them.”

  “I’ll nae hae it!” Flanna said quickly.

  Una laughed. “If he knows ye feel that wa
y, then ’tis likely ye’ll never know it, lassie; but men are only big lads.”

  “I’m glad ye’re coming wi’ me,” Flanna said to her sister-in-law.

  “I’m curious about this Glenkirk Castle,” Una admitted. “ ’Tis said to be verra grand.”

  “I thought so when I first came there. I suppose ’tis, but to me ’tis just home now,” Flanna replied. “It hae a grand history. I am amazed to realize that it will be my son who will be the next duke.”

  Una chortled. “So am I, Flanna. Never, when I was helping to raise ye, did I imagine ye would one day be a duchess.”

  They departed Killiecairn. Flanna’s six brothers had all decided to accompany her back to Glenkirk. There was something about their only and much younger sister that worried them. She was far too outspoken and independent for a woman. They wanted to reassure the duke that the brothers of Flanna Leslie would side with him in any dispute between him and their sister. The Duke of Glenkirk was a powerful friend to have. Their sister, on the other hand, was still a troublesome vixen. Her words in the family hall the previous night had startled them. Marriage had not settled her at all, and she was as bold as she had ever been.