It was over quickly. The big man lunged toward Murdo, hands outstretched toward his face. Murdo stepped smoothly to the side, and John McGraw staggered under his own momentum but did not fall. The other McGraw men whooped and cheered, and Emily realised that a fight was entertainment to them. But Murdo was not playing tonight. He stepped in and caught the floundering McGraw from behind, pinioning his arms up behind his back. John McGraw was caught, and Murdo marched him smartly back over to where his fellows clapped and jeered at his predicament.
“Look efter this one,” said Murdo to Neil who stood, laughing, about to speak an apology. But John was not done yet. He turned and took a swing at Murdo with one meaty fist, but Murdo did not step aside. He stepped in and caught John’s blow on his left forearm, delivered a series of jabs to John’s gut, solar plexus, and finally to his jaw. The big man reeled before collapsing like a felled tree. The McGraw men laughed and cheered. Murdo was not cheering, but as he turned away, a small smile crossed his face. It was over.
* * *
“You are cut!” Emily and Murdo had lain down together a little way away from the heat of the embers of the fire.
“Am I? I hadnae noticed. The fool must hae caught me one after all.”
There was a small cut above his left eye, and she took a cloth and wetted it with water to clean it. It was not deep, but she knew that cuts must be kept clean. He sat still under her ministrations.
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “You did your best not to hurt him. You gave him every chance. Thank you for protecting Alice and me.” She leaned down and kissed him.
They had not meant to fall asleep, but they did, wrapped in his plaid and in each other’s arms. They woke with a start and Murdo sat up suddenly. What was wrong, Emily wondered as she blinked sleep from her eyes. Then she realised. In the grey light of the early morning, a drawn blade glinted. Neil McGraw stood over them with a long, wicked knife in his hand.
Chapter Thirteen
“Whit’s this?” Murdo hissed as he sprang to his feet and grabbed for his own knife, staring wild-eyed at Neil. The other McGraw men stood around them in a wide semi-circle. Murdo’s men stood with them. Horror flooded him. They were betrayed.
Neil McGraw’s brow twisted in confusion, then he laughed quietly as he realised what Murdo was thinking.
“No, no, man, ye are alright!” he said quietly, “but wheesht! There’s a group o’ men approaching, and I dinnae ken whae they are. We must be ready tae flee.”
Murdo laughed shakily. “Sorry, Neil. When I saw ye there, I thought maybe John...”
“That silly fool? If ye think I would betray an alliance as auld as ours because ye gied that silly fool a well-deserved drubbing, then ye dinnae ken him or me! But there’s nae time for that, come wi’ me and look.”
The men at the camp quickly loaded up their gear and prepared the horses. Emily and Alice stood ready by their horses among the MacPherson men, who stood silently watching. All was quiet except the pattering of light rain and the shifting and snuffling of the bored horses. Neil and Murdo slipped off together, down the slope away from the lochan and the camp.
Neil McGraw was a good scout, and together he and Murdo crept down under cover of the brush.
“I saw them just doon here,” hissed Neil. “There, dae ye see?”
Murdo did see. Peering down through the bracken, he saw a body of men on foot, moving in a tight group.
“They are Highlanders by the look o’ them, and they come on warily. Dae ye ken them?”
Murdo let out his pent-up breath. “Aye, I ken them. It’s the men whae went aff tae harry the English on the road. It’s alright, Neil, they are MacPherson men. But man, there’s less o’ them than went awa’, and I cannae see my faither among them. Look, there’s the priest! Come, we’ll go down tae them.”
As they descended toward the little group, Murdo raised a hand in greeting and hailed them. In the middle of the group, a man threw back his hood; it was James with Ewan beside him. Murdo ran forward to greet them.
“Now is nae time for news,” said James as Murdo asked what happened at the town. “Let us get back up tae the camp, and we shall tell ye a’ about it.”
Everyone was keen to hear their story. Emily’s heart fell when she saw how few they were. Nearly forty had ridden off. Where were they all? She counted the heads; only ten. Could the battle have gone so badly?
“A’ is weel!” James stated when he had everybody’s attention. “I left maist o’ my men behin tae protect my flank and tae harry the English soldiers on the road and slow them down. We did weel. They had set fire tae the town and driven a’ the folk out, but they hadnae massacred the people as we feared. They set the fires and carried on North, and we caught them on the road. We did a great deal o’ damage, and we didnae lose any men at a’, but they lost several. And they rode on leaving the bodies, so we were able tae tak’ a great deal o’ guns and shot frae the deid they left. It’s a hard thing tae hae tae dae, but it’s war and we must dae whit we must.”
Neil McGraw greeted James and gravely took his hands, and spoke with all the men. At the end, each knelt, and James touched their heads in a sort of blessing. Murdo explained to Emily that Neil and his men owed James fealty. It was not exactly a lord or king, but James was Neil’s superior and Neil McGraw acknowledged this solemnly. Struggling to explain the concept, Murdo called on Father Colum.
“It’s mair like a faither and son relationship,” said the old priest looking tired and worn after his ride to the battle site. “Neil is the faither o’ his clan, but James is the faither o’ many clans which border on his lands, including the McGraws o’ Glen Marnoch.”
Emily had that feeling that she was witnessing something ancient and sacred that she did not fully understand, as she watched the brown-clad Highlanders making their obeisance to James in the drizzling grey rain.
Ewan sought out Alice and Emily watched with pleasure as they stood together, talking quietly to one another. She suspected Murdo had spoken to Ewan, and she knew he had told Alice there was more to the story of her brother’s disappearance than Ewan had made out. She was glad as she liked Ewan for all his awkwardness, and she wanted nothing more than for Alice, who had given so much, to be happy.
“They look better now, do they no’?” Murdo smiled as he saw her looking at them.
“They do,” smiling in return she squeezed his arm.
The ritual greetings took a while, but when the formalities were over the men did not wait and immediately set about breaking camp.
“We must be on the road as soon as ever we may,” instructed James to Murdo. Leaning close to his son, he gestured Emily closer.
“Ye havnae telt them about the treasure?” he whispered in a low voice. Murdo shook his head.
“I trust these men and our bond goes far back, but the draw of gold can be a strange transformer of character. I wouldnae hae these men be tempted, nor knowing too much about our plans.”
They broke camp quickly, Emily and Alice working together to take down their small tent. They had become rather good at it and spoke quietly as they worked, both anticipating the road ahead. There was still a good way to go, but they were making progress, and would soon be in MacPherson lands.
However, there was one more surprise in store before they finished packing up. They turned to the sound of footsteps behind them and found John Coll McGraw standing there. He stood very straight, and his eyes were downcast. He twisted a cap nervously in his hand. His jaw was swollen and bruised, and he was very red in the face.
“Miss Nasmith, Miss Murphy, my companions hae told me in great detail just how bad my conduct was last night. I... I hae a weakness for the drink ye see, and when I get going, I dinnae ken when tae stop. It’s nae excuse, but that’s the fact. I... well, I am as heartily ashamed o’ mysel’ as its possible tae be. I am very, very sorry and I hope ye can baith find it in yer hearts tae forgive me for my drunken foolishness.”
Alice and Emily looked at each
other, surprised and touched by this show of humility.
“I accept your apology, Mr McGraw,” Emily smiled graciously.
“Ye called me a whore and offered tae pay me for my favours,” Alice pointed out icily. John McGraw looked as if he wished the ground to swallow him up. He nodded.
“I ken it, weel miss. I understand if ye cannae forgive me just yet...?”
“Aye,” she said, “I think ye ask just a little too much a little too soon.” At that, he bowed his big head and solemnly walked away.
* * *
They were three days ride from the border of the MacPherson lands, and another day after that from the hideout they were heading for. They rode steadily up the long, winding valley of Glen Marnoch, speaking softly and being careful not to tire the horses. The weather that had been uncommonly kind to them for spring turned to rain. It came on during the first night’s camp, and by morning everything was soaked, the horses huddled dejectedly together in the shelter of the trees they were tethered to.
They were soon on the road again after a cold breakfast, for nobody could get a fire to light in the damp wood. The Highlanders rode with their plaids thrown up around their heads to keep the rain off, and Emily and Alice, who had been given plaids by Murdo, did the same. The party was a dismal sight, plodding along in the cold, driving rain.
The next day dawned with no let up in the foul weather, and Emily began to worry for Father Colum. He coughed regularly, and it was a wet, rattling cough. She noticed too that Murdo seemed tense and concerned, often riding ahead with Ewan, or scouting back along their trail. By the end of the second day, Father Colum’s coughing had taken on a harsher tone, and Emily saw Murdo talking earnestly with his father. He gestured up the valley ahead, but James was shaking his head.
Later she asked him, “What is it, Murdo? What are you concerned about?”
“It’s this rain. It will be trouble for us tomorrow.” But he would say no more.
Another night passed, and in the morning, the valley began to climb steadily. They trooped on always gaining height, and still the rain did not let up. Father Colum’s coughing was a dull counterpoint to the clopping of the horse's hooves and the steady hiss of rain. Murdo had ridden ahead again and came back with a frown darkening his brow. He rode up to the party and spoke to James before heading back to ride beside Emily. He was the only one to have his head uncovered but seemed little bothered by the rain. His hair was tied back tightly, and he wore only a sleeveless leather jerkin with his woollen plaid wrapped around one shoulder. The water streamed over his arms and down his neck like rain on a rugged cliffside, and his upright posture and alert eyes put him in sharp contrast to the rest of the bedraggled party.
As she watched him ride up to her, the thought of the night they had shared came back to her, and she felt a flush of warmth in spite of the rain. They had not spoken of it, but she knew that he saw the memory of the beautiful sensation when he looked into her eyes.
He smiled, wearily at her as he approached.
“Weel, my love, I didnae want tae worry ye unduly, but my fears hae been confirmed. Ride ahead wi’ me, and ye’ll see for yersel’.”
She did as he asked and urged her horse forward. Ewan and Alice followed them.
As they rode together in silence, she became aware of another sound. It was a deeper sound, a low rumble like far-off thunder, but continuous. It was almost as if she could feel it. As they approached the top of the ridge, it became louder, a great rushing, booming noise. As they crested the ridge and looked down into the dell, Emily caught her breath.
“Ye see now?” he said.
And she did.
Chapter Fourteen
Below them lay a long, steeply sided gorge and at the bottom, a river flowed over what would have been a broad stony ford. But now, in place of the ford ran a deep and fast torrent, deep enough to sweep a man off his feet. It looked too deep even for the horses to cross easily. To their right, the ground rose steep and impassable, and to the left, the river became broader and deeper for half a mile until it plunged over a steep fall. The thunderous roar of this drop made an ominous undercurrent to the loud rush of the river. The little party stood in silence, staring glumly at the rushing water, pockmarked with the falling rain.
“We willnae be able tae cross,” said Ewan. “Any man fool enough tae try would be washed awa’ downstream.”
“If it wasnae for yon waterfall we might attempt it,” said Murdo, “but any man who got into the water and lost control... Och, man, it would be certain death.”
“What about the horses?” asked Emily, “might they not be able to cross?”
Murdo shook his head.
“Under that water, the ford is a’ round and slippery stanes, fine at low water wi’ care, but like this? I wouldnae want tae chance it.”
“Is there nae other way across?” Alice added, hopefully.
Ewan shook his head. “No, there’s nae way across the river except the bridge where the road crosses it the village o’ Kindollan some ten miles downstream. The bridge will be watched by Clairmont and his party and we’d hae tae travel a long way back. Up tae the right here the gorge deepens and it’s many miles before we could make it over the river that way. No, this is the only crossing for us. I’m afraid we’re going tae hae tae camp here by the riverside and wait for the rain tae stop and the water level tae drop.”
Murdo slapped a clenched fist into his palm and cursed. “Damn this weather and the cursed English soldiers. Ewan ye ar right. There’s nae other way across, I warned my faither o’ this. Ah, but this is bad; if the English soldiers follow the road, they will reach the MacPherson lands ‘afore we dae and may cut aff our escape intae the wild lands. If they dinnae follow the road, then they will send out scouts and spies, and it will only be a matter o’ time ‘afore they learn o’ this place and come tae catch us here. We may hae a chance if they hae nae mair men than they did at Inveraray and maybe we could mak’ a stand wi’ the river at our backs, but I dinnae like our chances if it comes tae that.”
Ewan tried to comfort his friend, “Dinnae borrow trouble which hasnae come tae us yet. Look, here come the others. Let us go down tae yon clearing and set up the camp.”
Down in the gorge, there was a little plateau above the height of the water where they made camp for the night. The McGraw men, faced with the impassable water on one side and the prospect on English pursuit on the other were not happy, and it did not take long for two of them to decide that the river was not so high and they would brave it. James MacPherson and Neil McGraw both remonstrated with them, but they would not listen. In loud voices, they bragged of their strength and prowess in the water, and when one of them swore an oath that he would do it, the other, not to be outdone, followed suit. Both leaders knew that they could not forbid either man to break his sworn word.
“Very weel,” said Neil McGraw to his men. “I am sorry for I love ye baith and I dinnae ken whit I shall say tae yer mithers when we get back hame if ye dinnae mak’ it across, but yer oath has now been spoken, and I willnae ask ye tae break it. If ye insist on trying, then I wish ye baith a’ the luck in the world.”
They were both young men, strong and powerful, and they laughed and jested with one another as they approached the edge of the water. The whole party stood on the plateau, watching in solemn silence. At first, they seemed to make good progress; the water churned around their knees and thighs as they strode out, shouting encouragement to each other as they went. The water became deeper, and they made less noise, moving carefully against the heavy flow, which now pulled at their hips.
Suddenly one man lost his footing.
He went down with a shout, suddenly up to his chest and flailing in the water. His companion, who had forged a little further ahead, turned back and extended his arm reaching for his friend’s hand. Then he slipped too, and the pair grasped each other’s hands as they were pulled downstream. There was a gasp of horror from the assembled crowd, and some shouts of pain fr
om the McGraw men but nobody started forward. It was too late.
The swimmers did not regain their footing. With a terrible wail, they disappeared over the edge. The falls roared on.
* * *
Night lay thick and dark over the camp. There was a sombre mood and little comfort in food or drink for anyone. The loss of the two young men lay heavy, and they slept badly. Murdo and Emily shared a small tent,, and though Father Colum looked a little askance at this, he did not make any objection. James rolled his eyes but let it be. Alice seemed content to have the small tent to herself but said, “it will be colder with only one in there,” although when she spoke, her eyes were on Ewan and not Emily.
Murdo and Emily did nothing more than hold each other in the warm dark as the rain beat on the outside of the tent.
The next morning they woke with surprise to find that the rain had eased, birdsong replacing the constant hiss of falling water. The sky, if not clear, was certainly brighter than it had been. James ordered a great fire to be built and gathered the whole party around him.
Fighting For A Highland Rose (Defenders 0f The Highlands Book 1) Page 10