Highland Bloodline

by Florence Love Karsner

  It's Mr. MacKinnon. But why's he leaning over on his horse?

  He hurried down the lane to meet him.

  "What's wrong, Mr. MacKinnon? Are ye hurt?"

  Hector had insisted Clint call him Hector, but the old one still had difficulty with that particular request.

  Hector slowly climbed off his horse. "Nae, Clint. Just sick I think. Some sort of fever I guess. Better just help me to the bunk out in the tack room. Don't think I'd better go inside where the women and bairns are. I don't know what's wrong, but Da was just getting over Scarlet Fever when I was at the lodge. Could be I picked it up; but whatever it is, no need to be spreading it around the castle."

  "Yessir. Ye just come on back here. I'll get Ethel. She'll know what to do. Here, now. Rest a bit and I'll be back shortly."

  Hector went inside the tack room, collapsed on the bunk, and was asleep before he could even get his boots off.

  ~ ~ ~

  "What? Hector's back? Where is he?" Reggie searched Clint's old weathered face trying to read what he wasn't saying aloud.

  "He's out in the stable, resting on the bunk in the tack room."

  "Why's he out there? What's going on Clint?"

  Reggie prided herself on remaining calm even in situations that were often trying. She'd been able to maintain her composure and keep a semblance of order at the Sanctuary even when pandemonium broke out, which it did occasionally. Whenever a new family, a mother and her children, showed up at the door it always caused something of a furor as they scrambled to find beds, clothing and to deal with the distraught women. But this problem today had even the ever-calm Miss Carmichael rattled.

  "He's not feeling himself just at the moment, Reggie. He's got a bit of a fever, ye ken?"

  "Fever? What kind of fever? Are you sure?" Even as she spoke, she started toward the kitchen door headed to the stable, picking up her long skirts in order to move more rapidly.

  "No, lass, ye don't need to go out there. He says his da was just getting over the Scarlet Fever when he was at the lodge. Not sure that's what he has, but ye gonna be in here working with the women and bairns. Ye don't need to spread it."

  Ethel spoke up. "I'll go see about him, Reggie. If it is the scarlatina, then I've already had my turn. It struck my family when I was a wee girl. Took my baby brother from us. But it won't bother me now."

  "But I must see him. He means everything to me, Clint!" She grabbed at the old man's hands as if to gather strength from him in some way.

  "Aye, lass. We all know that. Ethel will know what to do, she's seen a lot in her time. Ye just keep everything going inside here. Mr. MacKinnon, Hector, he's young and tough. He'll be alright."

  Reggie tried her best to go on about her business, and when she heard a sharp, hard rap on the front door she headed in that direction. As much as she wanted to help the widows and offer them relief, she truly hoped it wasn't a new family needing a place to stay. She could hardly keep her mind on her duties, as the mental picture of Hector lying on a cot perhaps dying of fever would not go away.

  When she opened the door, she unconsciously stepped back. This caller was not a woman in need. She now wished it had been. Rather, it was a couple of British soldiers, fully outfitted in their uniforms, and armed. Reggie dug deep and found her calm, reasonable self and spoke in a soft, quiet voice.

  "Good morning, sirs. May I help you?"

  One of the soldiers just stared at her, but the other one, a very young one with dark hair, actually had enough manners to remove his tricorne as he bowed slightly to her.

  "Ma’am. We've been authorized by the Crown to search any and all residences, barns, stables, castles, and any other buildings we suspect may harbor Jacobite supporters. This castle is one of the properties we are to search today."

  "Why on earth would you wish to search Cameron Castle, sir? We are a place of refuge, a sanctuary for widows and their children. We do not harbor Jacobites."

  The older soldier spoke up. "That will be for us to decide, madam. Are there any male workers here?"

  "Yes, of course. We women can't possibly do everything alone. We have several men who help with the chores, care for the animals, and our gardeners help with the vegetable harvesting."

  "How many do you have?"

  "Oh, well. That number varies. If the vegetables are in season then we may have half a dozen or more gardeners. But if the growing season is over we may only have a couple. But, of course, we have sheep that have to be sheared, and someone has to feed and water the animals. Clint's in charge of keeping the workers on task, so I suppose he may have a better idea than I of exactly how many workers we may have right now."

  The young soldier was having difficulty staying on task. He was taken with Reggie's beauty and wished he could find a way to talk with her longer.

  The older soldier spoke up. "Then I'd like to see him, the one you call Clint."

  "Of course. I'll see if I can find him. He's usually about somewhere. Excuse me."

  Reggie closed the door, gathered her skirts, hurried through the kitchen, and fairly flew down the steps headed for the stable. Clint met her halfway across the bailey and one look at her face told him something was off.

  "What? What's wrong?"

  Gasping for breath, she finally found her voice. "Soldiers at the front of the castle. They're searching for Jacobite supporters, insisting they be allowed to search all buildings. Actually, they're demanding it."

  "Aye. Aye. Then let them search. I'll take them around and show them whatever they wish to see. They'll not find Hector, Reggie. I'll see to that."

  She nodded, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and put her calm face on again. She slowly walked back to the front door and invited them in.

  "Please come in, gentlemen. Clint will join us momentarily. May I offer you a cup of tea? Or perhaps you would care for one of Ethel's scones? She excels in her baking skills."

  The young, dark haired soldier would like nothing more than to share tea and scones with this striking woman. "Thank you. We'd like that very much."

  His companion glared at him.

  "No. We don't care for tea. We have a duty to perform. Where is your man?"

  "Clint's on in years, you understand. But he's quite capable and we depend on him greatly. He knows every inch of this castle and the outbuildings. I'm sure he'll be of assistance to you. Please, just take a seat."

  Clint rushed back to the stable and found Ethel pouring some concoction down Hector's throat. His flushed face and trembling hands told Clint a lot. But at least he was conscious now and nodded to Clint.

  Ethel stood and motioned Clint to come closer.

  "Don't think it's the scarlatina. He's fevered alright, but there's no rash and I know that when I see it. I think he's just got a light case or some other kinda fever. But he's gonna be on his backside for a few days, and he's a mite weak. I'll keep giving him this tonic and I'll stir up some of my partridge soup. That'll give him some strength."

  "Aye. But we've got a new problem at the moment. A couple of British soldiers are at the front door, and Reggie says they're demanding to search all buildings looking for Jacobites. I'll try to steer them away from here, so ye just keep quiet and tend to Hector. I'll come back later and see how he's doing."

  Hector tried to speak up, but the effort was too great and he fell back on the cot, exhaustion overtaking him.

  Clint whispered to her, "Ethel, did ye notice Hector's clothing? Wonder where he got that outfit? Looks like he stole it from a beggar, I say. Might be more to his trip than we know about."

  "Huh. Maybe," Ethel said as she began bathing Hector's face with her cloth.

  Clint finally walked to the castle and entered the great room where Reggie had kept the soldiers. The older one was obviously put out with her and Clint's measures to detain them.

  "I say, let's get on with this search. We've other places to inspect today also. Show us each building, old man."

  Clint took his time, taking his steps s
lower than usual. He even took them upstairs where the women and children were going about their daily routines. The soldiers noted the ragged condition of the clothing the women were wearing, and couldn't miss the vacant stares coming from most of them. They were accustomed to seeing men in such conditions, but were uncomfortable seeing women in a similar state.

  "That's enough in here. Take us to the barn, the stables."

  "Aye. This way. The barn is just out yonder a ways. James and Gordy are cleaning up in there this morning. One of the ewes has a wee lamb and they're trying to get it to nurse, but she's not cooperating. We may lose her I'm afraid."

  "Take us through the building." The soldiers walked around the stalls and kicked at various corners where layers of sheared wool had been piled.

  'That's enough in here. Take us to the stable."

  "Certainly. Follow me."

  Clint started at the front of the stable, ushering them up the ladder to the attic where the young stable hands sometimes slept.

  The soldiers carefully walked from one end of the attic to the other, pulling hay bales away from the walls. Nothing.

  Clint nodded to them. "That's everything. Ye've seen it all. Can we help ye any other way?"

  "What's that room down at the end of the building? You didn't show us that."

  "Oh, well, that's just the tack room. We keep our saddles, reins, and currying tools in there."

  "I said take us in every room."

  Clint had no choice but to obey. Some things were just out of his control. Slowly opening the door, he saw Ethel leaning over Hector, crying softly. Clint was just as surprised as the soldiers.

  "What's going on here? Who's this man?"

  Ethel looked up, taking her handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes as she did so.

  "It's me son, Thomas. He's had the scarlatina ye see? I put him out here to keep from spreading it. It just goes like wildfire, ye ken? But he's at peace now. He can rest and I'll have the vicar say some special prayers over him." She allowed a sob to accent her last words.

  The soldier turned quickly to Clint. "You idiot! Why didn't you tell us there was fever about? Are all Scots as stupid as you?"

  Reggie watched from the front window and saw the soldiers mount up, kick the sides of their mounts and take off at a fast pace. She finally took a breath and knew she'd never been so afraid. If they had found Hector she'd have never seen him again. As she had said to Clint and Ethel, he was most important to her.

  Rushing outside, she met Clint as he was returning to the stable.

  "Did they find him?"

  Clint smiled. "Oh, aye, lass, they did. Ethel put on a performance that would have pleased the king himself! But Hector's going to be down a few days according to Ethel. She's tending him and feeding him her special partridge soup. He'll be back to himself, Reggie, and one thing's for sure, those soldiers won't come back here again!"

  Clint didn't mention Hector's strange clothing to Reggie. He thought it better to discuss the matter with Hector first, but wondered if the clothing might have something to do with his trip to Edinburgh.

  CHAPTER 22

  I

  n spite of her concerns about Alex and Jack, Caitlin found herself trying to recall everything she knew about Edinburgh. Most of her knowledge came from books in the library at the lodge, and from the pamphlets and news articles Uncle Andrew would often bring back from his visits to the city.

  More than anything, Caitlin was interested in the medical community in Edinburgh. Andrew had told her of a number of physicians who resided there who were making tremendous progress in diagnosing illnesses and coming up with treatments for some of the most dreaded illnesses, such as typhoid, diphtheria, and of late, even treatments for cancer. If only she could go there and learn from these physicians, she would be even more helpful to the Highlanders and her family. Presently, however, she needed to dwell on finding Alex and Jack and getting them to safety.

  Robbie reined Goliath in and looked to Caitlin. "We're just on the outskirts of the city now. Look up to the skyline. That's Edinburgh Castle. In early times royalty lived there. I heard Mother and Mr. Bowers discussing it a while back. They were saying that before the Culloden incident, Bonnie Prince Charlie and some of his supporters tried to recapture the castle, but they failed. There's a dungeon there, too. I've been in it."

  "A dungeon? Do you think that could be where Alex and Jack are being held?"

  "No. My bet is they're in the Old Tolbooth. That's where most prisoners are taken these days."

  Caitlin sighed and studied Robbie's face, so like Alex's.

  You're alive, Alex. I know I would sense it if you weren't, and we'll find you.

  "I've heard horrendous tales of the Old Tolbooth. Are there any other prisons besides that one?"

  "Yes, there's Canongate Tolbooth also. And a couple of other small jails where prisoners, usually the less dangerous ones, are kept. I've actually been in the Old Tolbooth and Canongate. Mother would have skinned me alive had she known. But I'd read about them in the library and was curious. They've been in existence since medieval times. King Robert II granted Edinburgh a charter giving land for the Tolbooth and the records tell of the inhumane treatment the prisoners received in their confinement there."

  "I don't think I need to hear those stories, Robbie. Let's just concentrate on where Alex and Jack are most likely to be."

  "Then I say we should try the Old Tolbooth. It's located on the northwest corner of St. Giles's Cathedral on the High Street. It's been used as a prison and place of execution for a long time now. When Mary, Queen of Scots, was reigning it was in such poor condition she demolished it and had it rebuilt."

  "I see you've spent time reading about that as well. Well, I don't think we can just walk through the front door. So let's think about how to get in without being seen."

  "Oh, there are several ways to get in besides the front door. There'll be guards at each entrance for sure, but there's one other place to enter where I know there won't be any guards."

  "An entry without guards?"

  "Yeah. There's a very large stone in the cobblestone street near the west door of St. Giles Kirk. In early times, that exact spot was where the public executions took place, and now it's an entry to the sewer and tunnels underneath the city. You have to look closely to find it, but Paul Brampton and I discovered it one day when we were messing about."

  "How does knowing about a sewer opening help us?"

  "As I said, the opening in the cobblestones is near the west door of St. Giles. The original Tolbooth was there according to the records in the library. But on that spot, the large central stone can be lifted up and you can get to the sewer that way. The sewers were built long ago, something from the Romans I believe. If we can lift the center stone, then we can go down into the tunnels that run below the city and lead to the bowels of the prison. I went down that way with Paul a few times.

  We would sneak down there and leave packets of food and sometimes some sweets that Mattie made. Somehow she knew what we were doing, but she never told Mother. I think Mattie knows some of the guards. Not all of them are bad, they just need a job, and working at the prison is better than starving."

  "It's a place to start then. If we can just get in, then Willie can find Alex and Jack. He's a better tracker than either of us. Robbie, it occurs to me that you were not exactly the quiet, bookish lad your mother thought you were. These escapades you talk about are exactly the kind of things Alex and his brothers would have pulled off."

  "Oh, most of the time I stayed in my room or the library. But occasionally I would walk down the street and wonder what it was like to be free like Paul was. He could just go anywhere, any time. His mother didn't seem to know or care what he was doing."

  "Well, whatever the reasons for your friend having such freedom, your mother took good care of you and she did a fine job of teaching you how to care for others. I have no doubt she was a special lady."

  Robbie nodded but didn't trust him
self to speak. Just being here this close to the city had his head spinning. Where would they go? What was the first step to freeing his da and Jack? What would his mother think if she saw him today? Robbie was young, but he wasn't stupid. This woman married to his da was a brave one. He just hoped he could be brave himself when it became necessary, and that time would come, of that he had no doubt.

  "I think we should go to my home and talk to Mattie. She's been with Mother and me since I was born. She's someone we can trust and she'll know everything that's going on in the city. She goes out every morning and does her shopping and talks to all the shop owners."

  As they got to the entrance to the city proper, they reined their horses to a walk and slowly made their way up the steep hillside that led to the High Street. Caitlin took in all the sights, which she found appalling. Hordes of people seemed to just mingle about talking, laughing, and standing around fires that were built on every corner, even though the weather was warmer here than in the Highlands. They all looked to be wearing rags and many were actually barefoot. Children darted from one side of the cobblestone street to the other, oblivious to their ragtag appearance. Suddenly, Caitlin's keen nose was awakened rudely with unbelievably vile odors. She pulled her reins in quickly, causing Soldier to come to a complete stop.

  "Oh, good glory! What is that smell?"

  "What smell?"

  "You surely must smell that odor. Like human waste, unwashed bodies, and maybe even dead animals."

  "Oh, well, that's just the smell of Edinburgh, Caitlin. I guess I've grown up with it and don't pay much attention to it. But it definitely smells different than the Highlands."

  Looking around, Caitlin saw what looked like houses on top of houses. They were so close the inhabitants could see inside their neighbors' homes. But oddly enough, there might be one shabby shanty and next to it a fine, well-built home with a small garden attached. She again made note of the number of people crowding the streets. There was hardly room for one to walk without stumbling over another.