“Tie it weel, faither,” was all he said as the pair of them walked down towards the water’s edge.
The whole party watched, and they tied the free end of the rope firmly around the trunk of a large tree. Murdo walked to the edge of the water and stared at it for a long moment, measuring the distance to the opposite bank with his eyes. Slowly and deliberately, he began to remove his clothing.
Entirely naked, he made certain of the knot around his waist, before gathering the slack and tossing it over his shoulder in the hope it would play out in a controlled way as he swam. The opposite bank looked far away to Emily as her lover plunged into the swift-running waters.
Chapter Sixteen
At first, the water only came up to his thighs, and he swung his great arms and hunched against the water’s push as the brown river churned and swirled greedily around his hips. The depth of the river increased suddenly, and he launched himself forward into the water with a swirling froth of bubbles.
The current caught him almost immediately. With strong strokes of his great arms, he hauled himself through the water as fast as he could, always moving downstream. On the opposite bank, the target was relatively small; the strip of land running down to the river’s edge quickly gave way to a high, sheer edge. If he could not get free of the current before he was swept past this edge, they would have to haul him back. He would not make it.
The tension in the little party was palpable. They stood around the rope, prepared to grab it if James gave the order to haul in Murdo as quickly as possible. At the very last moment, just as James was about to draw breath to deliver the order to pull him back, Murdo’s figure ducked and then reared up once again in the water. Suddenly he was standing up to his waist again, then to his knees, and then – he was out! He turned on the opposite bank and raised his hands high into the air in victory, and they heard his great shout of pleasure at his success.
They watched with trepidation as he made the rope fast to the base of a tree on the opposite bank. It’s dripping length lifted out of the water and hung just above the surface of the flowing stream.
Ewan volunteered to go next. “But tie another rope tae this tree and round my waist! I will try tae cross gripping the bridge, but if my grip fails I dinnae want tae be swept across the falls!”
They were committed to crossing the river now, and there was a great deal of discussion about how to proceed with the baggage, for the horses could not cross, and most of the baggage, including the tents, would have to be left behind.
“It will be a cold, hard road on the other side for the days between the river and the house at Rowan Glen,” said James, “but it willnae be too long before we get there; maybe two days walking. Now, Ewan, a word wi’ ye in private if ye will.”
“How are we going tae get the treasure across?” he asked urgently, when Ewan, Alice, and Emily had moved a little away from the others.
“We will hae tae drag it,” said Ewan. “We will tie the necks o’ the sacks tae the rope, and drag them slowly across the bottom, one by one.”
It was slow and tedious going, but they managed it at last. It required Ewan and Murdo to take turns returning with the loose end of the rope for the next sack, and by the time all six had crossed, both men were exhausted and shaking with the chill. The rain returned, cold and steady. It had been agreed that most of the McGraw men would remain, for they were coming to the border of their country, which was roughly defined by the river they were about to cross. The McGraw men would keep the horses, tents, guns, and other gear which could not be ferried across the river. This was no small gift since the value of the horses, and the guns alone were well in excess of what the McGraws could expect as a tithe for passing through the land under their protection.
“Ye are a generous and kindly man!” Neil shook James warmly by the hand, “but I willnae keep it a’. When we meet again, I will repay ye, James MacPherson.”
“Neil, ye hae already lost twa o’ yer men in this pursuit, and if it hadnae been for ye and yer folk things would hae gone the worse for us at the bandit raid. Tak’ the gear and horses and be welcome. If the lads whae lost their lives hae widows or orphans, or auld parents whae need looking efter, see that the profit frae this gear goes tae succour them.”
Neil bowed his head in gratitude, and they said no more.
Emily and Alice crossed the river one after the other, clinging to the two ropes which were now strung across the surface of the water. The stones were slippery underfoot, and the brackish water churned and lifted them off their feet, forcing them to drag themselves along the ropes against its current in the deeper parts. Yet they clung tightly to the ropes and kept their eyes on the opposite bank until he had made it across. Once safe, they were able to warm themselves by the fire that had been kindled under the shelter of the pine trees.
They could not travel that day. All were drenched and cold, and their belongings soaked. They were still quite a big party despite the departure of the McGraw men, and James ordered more fires to dry the clothes and warm their chilled bones. Poor Father Colum had suffered the worst and sat dejectedly, wrapped in plaid and shivering, coughing feebly beside the fire.
“He shouldnae hae crossed,” said James, shaking his head. “He shouldhae stayed on the other side and joined us when the river had dropped.”
“He is determined tae see Emily and I married, faither,” Murdo murmured in a low voice.
“Aye,” said James in reply, “but it may be the death o’ him.”
* * *
The next morning they packed up what little gear they had and started north once more. The country was long and cold, and the grey hills loomed up on either side like ominous statues in the mist. The rain did not stop falling on the first day, and Father Colum’s cough worsened. They had been going for a few hours when Emily insisted on taking his pack from him. He objected feebly, but then allowed her to take it. He began praying under his breath and the murmur of his words, interspersed with little phrases in Latin, became the counterpoint to their weary wandering.
“Whit a change o’ days, eh, miss?” said Alice, as she walked alongside Emily a little way in front of the rest of the party.
“It is,” Emily smiled at her friend. “You know Alice, it’s no longer appropriate for you to call me ‘miss’ or ‘mistress’. I am nobody’s mistress, I hope you are my friend now, and not my servant.”
Alice laughed pleasantly. “Ah weel, if that is whit ye desire then how shall I refuse?”
“Do you miss your home?” Emily asked after a little while.
Alice thought about it, before replying with a question of her own. “Dae ye miss yer faither and the familiarity of yer own life ‘afore ye came up tae Scotland?”
“No,” said Emily sadly. “We moved around a great deal before we came up here and I never really knew one place as home. I am quite used to this kind of thing, that sounds silly... I mean, I am used to not having a fixed home. I miss... I don’t know. I miss my mother, and I even miss my father in a strange way. Though he was a foolish man in many ways, he tried to do what he thought best for me. It’s not really his fault that he was so wrong.”
“This rain!” said Alice, holding her hands out to the sky. “I miss shelter! Whit dae ye think the place we will come to will be like?”
Murdo had come along behind them and overheard her words.
“The house at Rowan Glen is a fair place,” he said in reply to her question. “A long, green valley stretches down tae a bonnie lochan, and the Rowan trees in the valley are red as flame when the berries are on them at the end o’ summer. There we hae a great muckle house, weel defended by men o’ the clan, and wi’ great supply o’ food and drink, and a well for fresh water. We could hold out against an attack there for a long time.”
“Has it ever been attacked? You make it sound like a fair house rather than a fortress of war,” Emily asked him with interest.
“A fair house, aye, that it is, but where it stands in the foot o’ the
glen, is hidden from all eyes, and there are stone watchtowers on the hills around, and a river, deeper and faster than the one we just crossed defending the ways intae it. There is very little hope for any attacker there unless they took the bridge tae the north o’ the glen and came in that way. That’s the only way for many men tae come in at a rush, and there we keep a constant guard.”
They walked all that day with only one brief halt, and when the evening began to fall, James urged them to press on a little further.
“Up there lies the ruined cottage of auld Cameron. That marks the border o’ our land and the end o’ the land o’ the McGraws. There we shall say fareweel tae our good friend Neil McGraw, and he shall tak’ his leave o’ us.”
In the gathering gloom, a ruin of tumbled-down stones and the remains of a little wall were all that was left of the building. It must have been a pleasant, cosy little place once, thought Emily, but now it was cold and empty and looked a weary, creepy sort of place to her eyes.
“How still and sad it looks,” she said to Alice and shivered. Alice nodded and remained silent.
“Its story is a sad one, indeed,” Ewan took Alice’s arm companionably as he walked alongside her.
“It belonged tae auld Cameron not so long ago as ye might think – oh, mibbe ten years ago, would it be, Murdo?”
“Aye about that.”
“Cameron lived in the little cottage and kept a few cattle in the pen. In the winter he would bring them down intae the valley tae graze and tae turn over the ground in that little bit o’ field ye see there below the house, and in the summer he would keep them by him up on the high ground where the ditch runs. That way he could grow a bit o’ barley in his little field in the summer, and hae milk frae the cow, and sometimes even a little beef. But Cameron’s real love was for mushrooms, and every autumn he would go down intae yon Alder woodland and gather up mushrooms o’ a few different kinds. Now ye ken that there are many foul mushrooms and some that will kill ye flat, but auld Cameron knew a’ the best ones tae tak’. He would dry them for himself and sell them tae the passing tradespeople, and sometimes he would even tak’ a whole load down tae the town and stay a night there ‘afore coming back. Everybody kent auld Cameron, a kind and, simple auld soul.”
“Aye,” said Murdo, taking up the story. “Everybody kent him as a good and generous man, daeing nae harm tae anybody. In those days, these lands were claimed by a minor son of the Duke o’ Inveraray, a Campbell wi’ connections tae the government. Weel, when sheep became the big thing for a’body tae start farming, Campbell decided he wanted this bit o’ the glen for his sheep. He would hae naething but that Cameron should gie up his cottage and his simple life here, and move awa’ so that Campbell’s shepherd could come and live here and run the great flocks which they a’ supposed would mak’ so much profit.”
“But Cameron wouldnae budge,” said Ewan. “ Sheep?’ says he, ‘sheep? I’ll gie ye sheep!’ And he up and flies at them wi’ a stinking great claymore he kept above his fireplace as a memento o’ the first rebellion, where he fought on the side o’ the Stuarts mark ye, and lost an eye and a couple o’ fingers in the cause. Weel, Campbell didnae like the sound o’ this, and when he got reports o’ whit had happened, he sent ruffians and hired English soldiers tae roust auld Cameron out o’ his cottage in the middle o’ the night and set fire tae the place. But Cameron was at war and sat in the eaves o’ the hoose and fired at them wi’ a rifle, and killed two o’ them stone deid at two hundred yards! Is it no’ so, Murdo?”
“Aye, it is,” said Murdo with a sad smile. “And it was a valiant deed, but it was the death o’ him in the end. It was because o’ this incident that the McGraws and the MacPhersons became such close allies, and because o’ this, too that our feud wi’ the Campbells and the Dukes o’ Argyll is so bitter. Cameron sent urgent word tae baith clans begging for help, and the McGraws and the MacPhersons met and agreed that nae poor body should be turned out o’ house an’ hame so some wealthy man can make mair profit. So baith sent armed bands tae meet at Cameron’s house, and tae see the Campbell raiders aff once an’ for all.”
“But, we were baith too late,” said a voice from behind them. They had reached the little cottage now, and the party halted, standing around the ruined stones in a sombre group. It was James who had spoken and Neil, who stood beside him, shook his head sadly.
“Aye, that we were, I remember it weel. Dae ye James?”
“Aye, I dae, the house was burned tae the ground, and Cameron died wi’ his sword in his hand on the doorstep, wi’ the press o’ Campbell thugs held at bay ‘afore him. They burned his house tae the ground, but we gave them a nasty surprise when we came up behind them. For the rest o’ that year we fought the Campbell men and drove them out o’ this valley, and afterwards, we took and claimed the valley for baith our clans. Cameron’s Cottage will forever be a sign o’ our friendship and o’ the consequences o’ coming too late tae stand up tae tyranny.”
They camped around the house that night, and in the morning, Neil McGraw bade them a solemn fair well.
“Goodbye, good luck, and good health tae ye!” he cried as he disappeared over the brow of the hill with a wave of his sinewy hand.
Rowan Glen was but a day’s march away, and they set off eagerly, but they were forced to slow their pace for the flagging Father Colum, who stumbled along, coughing continuously. His mouth moved in prayer, but he could not catch his breath. They crested a ridge and hurried across it, for they feared English scouts on the hills around. They could see nothing, but could not count on that. They had split the treasure between them, and everyone carried a small share of it. The gold was not too heavy for anybody, but they did not want to be caught with it in the wild. With their goal so close, everyone seemed on edge. If their luck could just hold out for a few more hours, then all would be well.
They walked in silence through the gathering dusk before coming to dense woodland that seemed to march endlessly up the slopes of a great hill above them.
“That is Ben Alder, the hill o’ the MacPhersons!” said Murdo. “We are no’ far now.”
Night fell, and still, they pressed on. It was very dark, and Emily’s tired eyes strained to see by the little moon and starlight that glimmered through the trees.
She was almost dozing on her feet when a sudden cry chilled her to the bone. The voice came from the trees up ahead, and it was not a Scottish voice. It was a southern English twang – she recognised the accent immediately.
“Halt! Halt right there! None of you move! You are surrounded!”
Like rats in a trap, she thought
Chapter Seventeen
Emily felt as if her belly had turned to ice. Despite her weariness, she tensed, ready to fight or flee. And yet what hope had they for fighting or even flight against Clairmont’s troops, and them surrounded? More likely she was ready to meet her end at the barrel of a Redcoat’s gun, or worse, to be captured and carried off to be the slave of the vile Major Clairmont. By her side, she heard Alice whimper in despair. She reached out in the darkness, and their hands met. Alice was trembling with fear.
James MacPherson’s voice rang out in the wet darkness of the wood.
“Is that ye, Ben Carmichael?” he cried. “Man, but you gied me the fright o’ my life! Damn your English brogue!”
There was a soft ripple of laughter from the trees as Emily heard Murdo give a shaky laugh. Out of the darkness, a figure appeared, hands raised up in a token of peace. A rifle was slung over his shoulder. He spoke with an English accent, and Emily realised with some relief that it was not Clairmont after all. “Good evening, James MacPherson and well met! We heard the news that you were on your way, but we also heard of the English patrols not far off. The captain of the guards felt it might be useful for an English voice to be the first to give a challenge; maybe give the element of surprise to an ambush in case we stumbled on the enemy instead?”
“Aye, aye, that’s a’ weel and good, tae be sure, but I guess I’
m no’ the only one here whae may need a change o’ britches for a’ that. Anyway, we are cauld an’ weary wi’ many days o’ hard travel so explanations must wait. How many men hae ye here? Will ye tak’ us up tae the house yersel’ or will ye stay on watch here?”
“We were sent out to look for you and your party and bring you in. I have ten men with me, but the regular patrols are deployed on guard duty. I will take you up to the house”.
Emily’s felt faint. She quickly realised that this Englishman must be an ally of the MacPhersons,, from the way he and James addressed one another, the man seemed like a trusted servant. How on earth this Englishman had ended up leading a scouting party on behalf of the MacPhersons was more than she could imagine. It seemed a miraculous reprieve, and from Alice’s trembling Emily guessed that her friend felt the same. No explanations were offered, and Emily asked for none.
Carmichael gave a low whistle, and out from the trees, more figures appeared. Behind then, Father Colum’s coughing broke out anew. In a weary file, they trudged up the hill.
Fighting For A Highland Rose (Defenders 0f The Highlands Book 1) Page 12