“Ye think I hae an appetite, lad? Nae, when I sit down tae my meat and drink at the table a’ I can think about is the men whae lie here now, and whae willnae tak’ meat nor drink again forever mair. Aye, and it makes me sick, but I hae tae eat and drink, for without baith a man will simply die, and that is nae good tae anybody. And at night, when I lie in my bed and cannae sleep, I dinnae get up and wander about, no. I lie there and breathe deep and slow, and rest my body even if I cannae rest my mind. If ye let yer ain guilt and heartache mak’ ye turn upon yersel’ it willnae be long ‘afore ye are mad, or dead.”
“And there’s another reason tae keep the heid, son, one which ye must ken, and always keep in mind. Ye will be heid o’ the clan one day, and the men look up tae ye. Whit dae ye think goes through their heids when they see ye aff yer food, or wandering the castle at night, tomenting yersel’ wi’ grief and self-loathing? I’ll tell ye whit comes intae their heids: doubt. Doubt, and the fear that ye are no’ the man they thought ye were. And that doubt and fear becomes a seed which grows in their minds, and when the crucial moment comes in a battle, or when ye hae tae gie the order, they may remember ye sitting silently at the table wi’ yer meat untouched, and the look o’ madness in yer eyes and they may doubt ye and hesitate. And that’s a’ it takes.
“I’m no’ telling ye no’ tae feel it, Murdo. Ye ken that. But I’m telling ye no tae gie intae it. Tak’ strength. Tak’ courage. And eat, drink, and tak’ rest is a’ ye can dae, then dae it, and let yer men see ye dae it. That will mak’ a’ the difference when the time of action comes.”
Murdo took a deep breath and embraced his father. “Thank ye, sir,” he said simply. “I will dae as ye say.”
James patted him on the back. “Good lad.”
* * *
When Ewan returned to Rowan Glen from his scouting mission, he did so in the company of a large party of well-equipped McGraw men, Neil McGraw at its head once again. As he came down to the house, he found Murdo and James in conference with the leader of another large body of men, who were drawn up with impressive discipline in front of the house. They were equipped with rifles, and a party of them rode on horseback. There must have been at least a hundred of them, all highlanders by their dress.
“Ah, it’s good tae see ye!” Murdo spoke with a genuine smile on his face as he wrung Ewan’s hand. “See, ye hae arrived at the same time as the good men o’ the Clan Grant, wi’ Iain Grant leading them, son o’ their chief whae awaits news o’ our exploits in his seat at his castle on the river Spey. Come an’ meet him wi’out delay.”
Ewan was introduced to the Grant clan leader; a small, prim man and very unlike the bluff and weathered MacPhersons, still less like the half-mad, wild-eyed McGraws. He was the epitome Highland gentry, and Ewan did not take to the man immediately.
“A MacPhail?” said Iain Grant when they were introduced, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “But ye an’ yer clan hae nae dog in this fight, safe in yer island hames far tae the west. Whit dae ye here?”
“I am here upon my ain account, no’ upon the business o’ the clan. Well, dae ye ken that when Bonnie Prince Charlie landed in Scotland in ’45, he did so at Skye. The men o’ Skye telt him tae go hame, but he wouldnae hear o’ it, an’ some o’ the men o’ that place went along wi’ him on their ain account. I was one o’ them. I was on the road wi’ the Prince, and I hae been on the road wi’ the MacPhersons since the calamity o’ the battle at Culloden and in a’ the rough years that hae followed.”
“I see,” said Iain Grant, and smiled as he put out his hand to Ewan. “Weel, I was at Culloden too, and at Prestonpans ‘afore that, and any man whae walked that long an’ bitter road wi’ the Prince is a friend o’ mine. Lang may the fighting continue!”
Ewan took a deep breath. He shook the man’s hand but looked him squarely in the eye. “Lang may the fighting continue? Wi’ that, I disagree. I hae lost blood, sir, and I hae shed blood, the blood o’ others, and though I dae recognise the need, I shall ne’er again tak’ joy in war. I would hae peace now, and I dinnae care whae kens it.”
“Come, now, Ewan,” said James hastily, before Iain Grant’s has the chance to reply, “come ben the hoose wi’ me and tak’ a bite tae eat and a dram, and then ye can gie us yer report. Ye hae done weel I dinnae doubt, and we shall a’ hear o’ it once ye hae supped.”
Inside, Murdo sat with Ewan, and they took food and drink together. Neither of them ate enthusiastically, but both chewed stoically and swallowed what was put in front of them. For all the turmoil in their hearts, they felt the better for it.
“They hae taken Alice and Emily tae Fort William,” said Ewan, when James, Neil McGraw, and Iain Grant had joined them. “We tracked them tae wi’in sight o’ the castle, but they were cunning. They had five separate mounted parties, a’ taking different routes and moving swiftly, so there was nae way tae tell which party was carrying the women. I split my scouts up, and we each followed a different set o’ tracks, but they a’ converged on the road tae the castle.”
“But that’s not a’,” he hastened as Murdo made to speak. “One o’ my men got close enough tae one o’ the parties on the second-night tae owerhear their speech. He heard then discussing the women. Emily is tae be married tae the Major at the castle, and they are tae be sent awa’ They hae got a pardon for the treason o’ running awa’ wi’ us and their lives are tae be spared.”
Murdo’s eyes lit up at this, though James looked on with quizzical eyes.
“I thought they would be hanged!” said Murdo. “Oh, this is braw news, man. Weel done!”
“Major Clairmont’s men hae loose lips if they ken that much about their commander’s plans and speak sae openly about it at camp. Yer man whae got close enough tae hear a’ this – did he hear naething else?”
Ewan shook his head. “Naething o’ great interest, nor o’ use tae us.”
“Weel, weel, this is grand!” Murdo smiles with some cheer. “A’ we hae tae dae is march tae the castle. We will nae doubt draw them out and be able tae deal them a great blow on the field o’ battle, for the garrison there cannae be that strong! And now we hae the McGraws and the Grants at our back, naething will stop us!”
Iain Grant smiled broadly, and Neil McGraw thumped the table in his enthusiasm.
James stepped forward. “The maist important thing is for us tae be able tae choose the field o’ battle. We must keep our movements secret until the very last moment.”
All the men nodded. Ewan closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Beneath the table, his hands were clenched into fists.
* * *
Major Clairmont was drunk. He had been drinking before coming to the table that night, and he sat in a heavy and sullen mood throughout dinner, eating little but knocking back glass after glass of red wine. He was foul-mouthed and abusive, and even Captain Nasmith – who usually seemed to have no end of excuses for the younger man’s behaviour – seemed uncomfortable. Wallace, the man usually was in charge of chaperoning and spying upon Emily and Alice, was waiting on him, and seemed to be becoming increasingly agitated at his master’s erratic behaviour.
Emily and Alice sat stiffly beside one another, eating without enthusiasm. Captain Nasmith made continuous and valiant attempts at civil conversation, but nobody at the table was in the mood. The priest, who had taken to joining them at meals, made no attempt to hide his disdain, and after a particularly vicious comment from Clairmont that religion was for fools, and the only good Christianity had done was to create wine from water, he stood abruptly and left without saying goodnight.
Eventually, Clairmont grew disgusted with the gathering and ordered Wallace to help him upstairs to his chambers.
“I’d be taking you up with me if I’d had my way,” he slurred at Emily, with a leering, lecherous look. “Soon I’ll take your husband’s head and present it to that upstart priest, and then you shall warm my bed every night!”
He made an obscene gesture at his crotch, and even Captain Nasm
ith looked shocked.
“P’raps I’ll have to be satisfied with you, eh, Wallace?” he said with a hiccupping laugh as he flung his arm around the man’s shoulders to steady himself.
“Nah, nah, don’ worry. I’m not like that. You’ll have t’see th’ priest for that, I bet he likes it...”
Turning he tripped and sprawled full-length on the rug covering the area at the front of the door. He caught his foot on the edge of it and was so drunk that he failed to catch himself with his hands. Emily watched with satisfaction as his head bounced and wished for a moment that the carpet had not been there to cushion him. He might have knocked himself unconscious; or worse!
Wallace hauled Clairmont, cursing foully, from the room.
“And now, father, if I may be excused?” Emily stood away from her, barely touched food.
“Of course, of course,” he failed to meet her eyes.
As the women walked from the hall, they looked towards the crumpled corner of the rug where Clairmont had tripped. Without thinking, Emily leaned over to straighten it, and as she did, something caught her eye. It was a key, dull brass and heavy, laying on the surface of the rug a few feet away. If it had fallen on stone, it would have rung loudly, but on the carpet, it had not made a sound. It must have fallen from his pocket when he fell on the rug.
Without missing a beat, she took two steps forward and picked it up. She glanced back at her father, but he was sitting at his place at the table, staring at the remains of his dinner, completely unaware of the rest of the room.
Wallace was nowhere in evidence as they made their way back to their room. On a quiet spot on the stairs, they stopped and looked at the key.
“Is it the key tae his room?” Alice asked. Emily shook her head.
“It can’t be, if it were, Wallace would have been back down here looking for it. It must be to the office, or somewhere else. What will ee do?”
“We must tak’ this opportunity that chance has gied tae us,” replied Alice, with determination in her voice. “He will sleep like the deid tonight, and Wallace will nae doubt leave us alone once he’s satisfied that we are asleep. Come on, he’ll nae doubt come tae check on us.”
Wallace did come to check on them. He knocked on the door and asked if they ‘needed anything,’ then turned the key in the lock. They waited fifteen minutes before taking the key that McCrimmon had given them at their request and opening the door.
The key which Clairmont had dropped did fit the lock of his office. The lock was well oiled, and the key turned with a satisfying click as they locked themselves in.
It was a well-appointed room, with a thick rug on the floor and a great hearth in which the embers of a fire still glowed. From these embers, Emily lit a candle which sat in a holder on the big mahogany desk. She held it up as she looked rapidly at the piles of documents littering the surface. They had time, nobody would check on this room again tonight, but it was nerve-wracking all the same, and neither of them felt inclined to linger longer than necessary. Without speaking, Alice lit another candle and moved to the other end of the table. They began systematically going through the papers on the desk.
Emily was examining a half-finished draft of a report by Clairmont concerning their capture when Alice found it. She made an inarticulate noise, followed by a strangled groan that made Emily almost drop her candle in alarm.
“Alice! Whatever is the matter? What is it?”
Alice was white as a sheet and shaking so much that the shadows from her candle danced against the wall. She jabbed her finger wordlessly at the paper on the table which she had been reading. She seemed unable to speak.
Emily leaned over and brought her own candle closer so she could make out the words. The paper was thick and rough, and the words were written in clear, dark ink which had run a little at the edges. The words were packed close together, but the hand which had written it was firm.
Much as I loathe the necessity, I deem it the only way to avoid further bloodshed in a fruitless cause. Your man has promised me that you will act in good faith and he has guaranteed me the safety of the two women you hold. In return for this guarantee, and for the assurance of my own safety and that of the heir to of the MacPherson clan which was given, I will do my best to convince him of the need for a truce and a treaty between our people. I will provide your scout with intelligence on the movements of the Highland forces, meeting him at the agreed location to deliver my reports.
I trust in your good faith as a gentleman, as you may trust in mine.
Ewan MacPhail
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Oh, good God...” Emily breathed deeply. “Ewan!”
Alice was speechless. She reeled like a drunken person, and Emily thought she might faint. Reaching out, she clutched at Alice’s arm as the poor girl tried to speak. A dry sound came, but there were no words. Suddenly, she collapsed into the heavily cushioned chair which served the desk.
A cold, ruthless dearth of emotion settled over Emily. She did not allow herself to feel. For now, there was no utility in feeling. They had one chance to turn the tables on Clairmont; she would not lose it. Instead of comforting her friend, she turned away, rifling rapidly through the papers on the desk. She was looking for Ewan’s clear, distinctive hand. If there were any more information from him, she must find it.
It did not take long.
The second missive was shorter and written more hurriedly, it was unsigned, but there was no doubt that it was Ewan’s handwriting.
The MacPherson men have left their camp. They are joined by allies, numbering in total some 300 men and 30 horse. Half the men are armed with rifles, and they have four rounds apiece. They aim to travel via the old grain-transit road which runs by the River Coll south toward Fort William.
At the bottom of the note, a different, rougher hand appended a few more words.
MacPhail is weakening; I had to reaffirm your pledges to him. When the time comes, you will have to deal with him quickly.
Emily’s heart raced. Behind her, she felt Alice stand and look over her shoulder, reading the note.
“Clairmont will betray Ewan, as Ewan has betrayed his ain,” Alice whispered. “As he has betrayed me. Come, Emily, we must go. Leave the note on the desk.”
Anger, fear, and despair roiled through Emily’s breast. How could he betray his friends, his people? “...the only way to avoid further bloodshed in a fruitless cause...” he had said. Could he really mean that? How deluded he must be, to have convinced himself that Clairmont would show mercy to any of them. However, Ewan did not know Clairmont as she did.
“Come on!” Alice was tugging at her sleeve. Emily put the note back on the table and glanced around.
“What shall we do with the key?”
Alice thought for a moment before replying.
“There is a carpeted section o’ corridor at the corner before the stairway. We shall leave it there, in the shadow by the table. If it is found then, Clairmont will assume he has a hole in his pocket. Come on!”
They left the way they had come, turning the key in the lock and hurrying off through the shadowed corridors. They had a tense moment when a guard came around the corner, but he did not see them, and they hurried on, back up the stairs to their own little room.
Reaching their room, Alice, who had regained her composure, collapsed into a chair while Emily stirred up the embers of the fire and carefully added a few sticks of wood. When the flames licked their sides and began to crackle, she added some larger pieces and swung the little iron kettle over the blaze. Then she too settled into a chair opposite her friend. For a little while, they sat together quietly watching the flames and listening to the water hiss as the kettle heated.
“Whit are we going tae dae?” Alice broke the silence
Emily let out a great sigh. “I do not know, It’s all too clear what is going to happen. Murdo and his men will be drawn here, with us as the bait. They will come, intending to surprise the garrison and recapture us, but inst
ead, Clairmont will catch them unawares, no doubt in some narrow place where they cannot fight to full effect. All will be lost, and you and I will be Clairmont’s slaves forever...”
“No!” Alice spoke with feeling. “We cannae let it happen. We must no’ let it happen, Emily. Come now, we must think this out. Somehow, we hae tae get out o’ this damned castle and warn them that they are betrayed! Only if we can get to them before Clairmont will we be able tae save them. Whit about the moat?”
“The moat?”
“Aye, ye remember yon wee low window in the corridor on the lower floor, no’ far from the armoury? We could get out o’ that wi’out too much injury, I’m thinking.”
“But we’d have to cross that whole waste of ground outside, it’s too heavily guarded, even at night, I don’t think we’d have the chance to get across that ground unnoticed.”
“We’d have to create a distraction, then. One which would be big enough tae mak’ the soldiers leave their posts and come running...”
Fighting For A Highland Rose (Defenders 0f The Highlands Book 1) Page 18