Rescued by a Laird

by Fiona MacEwen

  There, sticking up above the outcrop below the cliffs was the mast of a ship, lying broken on its side. It had not been there when Bryce had walked that way just a few days before, of that he was certain, and he quickened his pace towards where the mast protruded.

  As he came close, he realized that the rest of the ship was there too, lying in several pieces; timbers and the remnants of all manner of goods lying scattered around it. There were chests and large bags, clothing and barrels, a haul enough to see them through the winter if the contents had been preserved and Bryce eagerly rushed to open one of the chests.

  Inside he found food, somewhat water damaged, but there were also pieces of jewelry, and tools, items which would be useful to the clan or be of value when it came to trade. Looking around him he could find no sign of life and smiling to himself he hurried back to the castle to summon others to assist with the haul.

  His mother was surprised to see him back so soon, but she too became excited when he relayed just what he had seen on the beach.

  “Gather some men together, we shall bring back a fine haul,” Bryce said to one of the men, and turning to his mother he smiled, “there is enough there to see us through a winter, if not all the food is perished, but there is jewelry, tools, weapons and all manner of other things.”

  “Such good fortune dinnae come along often, son,” she replied, “go, before nightfall comes and the tides wash it back out to sea.”

  Soon the party of clansmen were following Bryce along the beach. There was much excitement, a shipwreck did not come along often, and such spoils meant good fortune for the harsh winter ahead. The men were in high spirits, laughing and joking, with little regard for any survivors. It would be unusual to find any, given the ferocity of last night’s storm and as they arrived at the wreckage, they began to fan out, picking through the chests and barrels.

  “A whole whisky barrel here, Laird, and undamaged,” one called.

  “I have a chest of dried fruits, the water has nae damaged them,” another shouted.

  Bryce had climbed up onto the rocks and was looking down at the stricken ship below. It had been dashed to pieces on the rocks, its hull splintered in two, and he shook his head as he imagined just what terror would have befallen the crew as the great storm raged around them.

  He was about to pick his way down to the hull in search of further treasures when a plaintiff cry came on the wind, shrill and in need. He looked around him as it came again, higher pitched now, calling in desperation from down below.

  “Here, men, help me, there is someone alive down there still,” he cried, rushing down the slippery rocks in the direction of the call.

  As he came to the bow of the ship, he could see who it was that was calling, a lass lying across a piece of the hull. She was in a bad way, her clothes torn and soaked through, her hair matted and a cut down the side of her cheek.

  “Tis’ alright, lass, we will help ye, stay still now,” he cried, rushing over to her taking the cloak from his shoulders to wrap her in.

  Several of the men now crowded around and one who had some skills at healing knelt and ministered to her.

  “She has a broken arm, Laird, and the cut on her face needs tending. She is freezin’ cold too, we must get her back to the castle as soon as we can, help me now, ye men,” the man said, and gently they lifted the lass up.

  It was now that Bryce could look down at her properly and he smiled as she blinked up at him. Even in her state of disarray she was very pretty, her long black hair and deep blue eyes a contrast to her pale face and sickly look.

  “What is yer name, lass?” he asked as he helped the men carry her across the rocks, but the young woman could only mouth something inaudible and as she did, so her eyes closed and she drifted from consciousness, causing Bryce to exclaim.

  “Is she dead? Dinnae say she is dead, come now lass, wake up,” he cried.

  “Tis’ alright, Laird, she is drifting in and out of consciousness, tis’ the shock she has experienced. We must warm her slowly and revive her. Come now men, make haste to the castle, we dinnae have much time,” the healer said.

  The group redoubled its efforts, crossing quickly over the sands to the castle beyond. Just as the rain began to fall, a fresh storm brewing out to sea. All thoughts of the treasure trove on the beach were gone and as they raced across the sand, Bryce looked down anxiously at the lass in his care, praying against hope that she would be alright.

  ***

  Bryce’s mother was at her spinning wheel, just as she had told her son that she would be and as Bryce and the others bustled in, carrying the lass in their arms she startled at the sight.

  “Whatever is this? Did ye find the poor lass amidst the shipwreck? The poor wee thing, look at her, she is freezing cold. Bring her close to the fire. Quickly, bring warm water and more logs, we must warm her back up. Some whisky too, that will help revive her,” Bryce’s mother said.

  Lady Dunbar had learnt something of healing from her own mother, who had in turn learnt it from hers. There was a tradition of it in the family, and there was little which that good woman could not help to alleviate, even if death were close. Now, she fussed around the lass, whose eyes remained closed, yet whose breath was still animating her body and whom Lady Dunbar was determined to see live.

  “Make sure the fire is kept stoked, Bryce, and tell the servants to keep bringing hot water. When the lass revives she will need something warm to drink, be quick now,” Lady Dunbar said, as Bryce stood watching her mother at her ministrations.

  They had bandaged her leg and washed the wounds to her face so that the color was returning a little and with every passing hour she seemed to regain some strength. It was late into the night now and a fresh storm had blown up, howling around the castle. Bryce could not bear to think what might have happened to the lass if he had not found her, she had been close to death even then and now that she lay before the fire it seemed her life still lay in the balance.

  He had done as his mother had bid him and ensured that a regular supply of wood and hot water was brought but now, he was reluctant to leave her, as tired as he was. He felt a responsibility towards her, despite knowing nothing about her. Who was she traveling with? Where was she going? Had her family been killed in the storm or were they still out there? Washed up on some far-off beach. The tides and currents were notorious for dragging ships this way and that and it was impossible to fully predict where one might be pulled to when a storm blew up. It was no surprise that sailors called that part of the sea ‘the Devil’s passage,’ and many lives had been claimed off the coast there.

  Bryce was grateful she had not been one of them, and as the night wore on, she seemed to revive a little, even opening her eyes at one point to smile at Lady Dunbar and thank her.

  “Ye need nae thank me, lass, thank the Laird over there, my son, it was he who rescued ye from the shipwreck,” Lady Dunbar said, dabbing the lass’s brow with a cloth and she turned weakly towards where Bryce stood, illuminated in the flickering candlelight of the Great Hall.

  “I am glad we found ye, lass. If we had not done so, then I dread to think what might have become of ye. There is a fresh storm blowin’ up now and the waves will once more be lashing on that sorry shipwreck,” Bryce said, shaking his head. “Were ye traveling alone? Have ye family? I … I dinnae think there were other survivors,” and his words trailed off.

  But the lass was too weak to hear, and she closed her eyes and rolled back on her side as Bryce stepped forward to kneel before her.

  “Let her rest until morning, then we shall discover what we may about here,” Lady Dunbar said, pulling the blanket up over the lass’s shoulders and stroking her head gently. “Get some rest now, Bryce, I shall keep watch and I shall make sure ye are called if any changes occur.”

  Bryce took one final look at the sleeping lass, and nodding to his mother he made his way to bed. The castle was quiet now, except for the sounds of the storm above. He climbed up the stairs towards his c
hambers, a candle held above his head, which spluttered in the draught.

  It was a cold night and as he stood at his window he shivered, looking out across the beach and bay, where the waves crashed on the shore below. The lass would surely have perished if she had been left outside for another night and he crossed himself, thanking God for bringing her through her ordeal.

  “And may she live to see another day,” he said, snuffing out the candle and climbing into bed.

  Down below Lady Dunbar sat diligently at the lass’s side, watching for any signs of fever. But the pretty little thing continued to sleep soundly and as the night drew on, it was clear that she would survive, though how long it would take her to heal from her ordeal at the hands of the storm was quite another matter.

  “Plenty of rest, that is what ye need,” Lady Dunbar said, as she herself closed her eyes and lay back in her chair, the fire burning low in the hearth and the storm still raging outside.

  Chapter 3

  The Lass Revealed

  Bryce slept badly that night, the sounds of the wind and the rain making him restless, but he could not help worrying about the lass down below in the Great Hall. Bryce Dunbar was naturally a kindhearted lad who would always go out of his way to help others. But when he felt helpless, that was when his frustrations were aroused. He knew there was little he could do for the lass; he had done all he could in bringing her back to the castle from the shipwreck. But if she now died under his watch, he would feel personally responsible and he knew he could not bear such a terrible outcome.

  As the first light of dawn appeared upon the horizon, he made his was quietly down to the Great Hall, meeting some servants who were just bringing fresh water and bandages to Lady Dunbar.

  “The lass, is she still …” he said, looking gravely at the servants.

  “Aye, Laird, she lives, though the night has been a long one for her. Yer mother is asleep in her chair,” one of the servants replied as Bryce followed them to where the lass lay before the fire.

  The Hall was warm, the fire well stoked and Lady Dunbar awoke as Bryce entered the room and came to the makeshift bed on which the lass lay sleeping.

  “Tis’ alright, Mother, I am here now, why dinnae ye get some proper rest. I shall watch over her now,” Bryce said, looking down at the lass who now stirred a little and turned over.

  “Nay, Bryce, I shall stay and watch with ye. The poor wee thing needs my ministrations, she has passed a difficult night, but let us pray that the worst is now over,” Lady Dunbar said, rising from her chair and coming to the bedside.

  “Shall I have some porridge sent for? Something for her to eat,” Bryce said, but Lady Dunbar shook her head.

  “She will be too weak to eat it yet, she must just rest but look, she is opening her eyes a little.,” Lady Dunbar said, and pointing to the lass Bryce saw that she was indeed opening her eyes, blinking in the daylight, which now streamed in through the windows.

  “Hello there,” he said, smiling down at her, “ye have had quite a shock, ye poor wee thing. Dinnae worry though, ye are safe now, ye are in the castle of the Dunbar’s. My name is Bryce Dunbar and I am Laird of these parts, this is my mother Cora, the Lady Dunbar. Tis’ she who has ministered to ye this past night.”

  The lass gave them a weak smile and tried to sit up, but a look of pain came across her face and she fell back, smarting as though her whole body ached with the effort.

  “Lay still there, lass. Ye have endured a terrible ordeal at the hands of that vicious storm, just try to rest, we shall take care of ye,” Lady Dunbar said.

  “Aye, that we shall. Can ye tell us yer name?” Bryce said, instinctively placing his hand onto hers as he did so.

  “A … Ailsa …” she said weakly, “Ailsa Kennedy,” and she closed her eyes, as though the effort to speak had been an exhausting effort in itself.

  “Well now, what a pretty name, a pretty name for a pretty lass,” Lady Dunbar said. “Now we are all introduced ye are very welcome in our home.”

  “Aye, ye are, tis’ good to meet ye, Ailsa and I promise we will dae everything we can to make ye better. Rest now, and we shall speak later,” Bryce said, nodding to his mother who took a cloth and bathed Ailsa’s wounds once more.

  Bryce stepped out from the Great Hall, ordering the servants to have a more suitable chamber prepared for Ailsa once she was strong enough to move. It seemed they would have a guest with them for some time, but now that he knew her name, he wondered just where she had come from and where she was going to. It seemed odd for a lass to be traveling alone in such a manner by ship. It was rare for lasses to journey in such a way. Any ship sailing northwards along the shore was bound only for the islands or far north, no place for a respectable wee thing like that. It was all quite mysterious, and Bryce hoped that soon she would be strong enough to reveal her secrets and explain just how she had come to be washed up on the shores below his castle.

  ***

  The Laird did not have long to wait before Ailsa was strong enough to be moved. Chambers had been prepared close to that of Lady Dunbar and on the third day of Ailsa’s stay at the castle several of the men, under the direction of Bryce, carried her makeshift bed through the corridors to a more permanent home.

  “Careful there lads, be gentle with the wee lass, that’s right,” Bryce said, directing them up the stairs as Ailsa clung precariously to the bed.

  At last they set her down and Bryce and Lady Dunbar helped Ailsa up and into a proper bed. She lay back with a sigh, closing her eyes from what had been a considerable effort. She still seemed very weak and Lady Dunbar tucked the blankets around her as the servants stoked the fire up in the hearth.

  “There we go, Ailsa, much better. Ye couldnae stay in the Great Hall forever, ye will be much more comfortable up here, away from the noise downstairs, and ye have the sea to look out upon too,” Lady Dunbar said, smiling down at her.

  Ailsa gave her hosts a weak smile and nodded.

  “Thank ye, thank ye for everythin’ I would be dead if it were nae for ye both, I hope there is some way I can repay ye for yer kindness to me,” she said, sighing as she did so.

  “We need nay payment lass, ye are our guest and we are pleased to have ye here, though we would far prefer it if ye had nae arrived in such a dramatic fashion,” Bryce said, smiling.

  Ailsa smiled and laughed a little.

  “Still, I am grateful to ye for takin’ me in, there are many who wouldnae,” she said.

  “At first we dinnae realize anyone was left alive, tis’ rare for such a storm to give up any survivors. There was nay one else left alive, I am sad to say,” Bryce said, his words trailing off. “Did … did ye travel with anyone else?”

  Ailsa shook her head, and cast her eyes down, as though the thoughts of that voyage were painful.

  “Nay, I … I traveled alone, we had only been sailing a day, coming up the coast from the south, it was then that the storm hit and dragged us off course. I left my father just a few days ago, from the little harbor by our manor house at Troon, I was … I was on my way to the island of one Stewart McKinnon, a Laird in these parts. I am betrothed to him,” Ailsa said, sounding sad and withdrawn as she did so.

  Bryce cast a look at his mother who shook her head.

  “Dinnae worry about any of that, lass. We shall send word to yer father, he may have heard about the storm and think that ye perished, as for Stewart McKinnon, well, we shall see to that too,” Lady Dunbar said, nodding to her son to follow her from Ailsa’s chambers.

  Outside she turned to Bryce with a worried look upon her face.

  “Betrothed to Stewart McKinnon? The poor lass, and what will he think when she doesnae arrive on the island? The man is a nasty piece of work, we know that as well as anyone. The way he behaved after yer father’s death, simply despicable. If he hears the lass is here, then he will surely be back,” Lady Dunbar said.

  “Aye, but we shall be ready. By the look on Ailsa’s face it seems she was far from willin’ to be pa
rty to such a betrothal. Perhaps the shipwreck has been a godsend to her. Besides, she cannae leave here yet, it will be quite some time before she is strong enough to even walk about the castle, let alone contemplate a sea voyage to that lonely place. Life on the island of Stewart McKinnon would be nay life at all, she shall remain here and we shall give instructions that her presence is to be kept a secret, as far as possible,” Bryce said, a look of grim determination upon his face.

  ***

  The next day Bryce paid a visit to Ailsa whilst his mother was about her work. She was gradually regaining her strength, and no longer needed a constant watch over her. The window was open, letting in a gentle breeze from the sea and Ailsa was sat up in bed as Bryce tentatively knocked at the door and came in.

  “May I disturb ye?” he said, smiling at her.

  “Aye, of course ye may, I have little else to dae than be disturbed,” she replied, smiling at him, as he came to sit down next to her.

  “How are ye feeling now, ye look far better than ye did, and the color has returned to yer cheeks now,” Bryce said.

  “Aye, I am feeling stronger now, thank ye. Ye and yer mother have been so kind, I cannae thank ye enough for everythin’ ye have done for me. I am just sorry I cannae pay ye back somehow,” she said.

  “Ye owe us nothin, Ailsa, I am just glad that ye are feelin’ better and regainin’ yer strength,” Bryce said, looking at her with affection and placing his hand on to hers.