Highland Pride

by Dana D'Angelo

  William went to meet the men halfway. “Tell me what ye found, Aibne,” he said.

  “I have guid news,” the guard said. “We caught a couple more outlaws lurking just beyond the festival. At the moment, the commander remains elusive, but I feel we’re closing in on them.”

  “Excellent,” William said. “Keep searching for those bastards.”

  Although the news was adequate, it would be better if they had caught the group’s leader. He had yet to know who it was. The robbers usually came under the cover of darkness. They completed their raids and then disappeared again in the vast territory. It almost seemed as if they knew the terrain as well as he did, and they navigated easily through the woods, bogs, glens, and hills. The unfortunate thing was that each terrain provided different opportunities for hiding. And if someone was familiar with the land, he could conceal himself indefinitely.

  William had studied the movements of the criminals, and he saw evidence that the outlaw commander meticulously organized each raid, and knew how to avoid capture. Instinctively, William recognized that if they stopped the leader, the raids would also end. The challenge now was to apprehend the scoundrel.

  ***

  Kila scanned the crowd, amazed that the clearing contained a lot more people than she remembered.

  The sound of bagpipes drew her closer, and she watched the dancers taking part in a reel. To her surprise she spotted Ewan dancing with an attractive lass. Their eyes were fixed on one another, although their feet were flying to the penetrating music. Shouts and laughter sounded all around her. This was the most excitement she had in a long time. The infectious gaiety seeped through her, and she enthusiastically clapped her hands and tapped her foot.

  Fearghas saw her and broke out in a broad grin. “Come,” he said, dragging her into the circle of dancers.

  The energetic tunes washed over Kila as she lifted her arm in the air and allowed her feet to move rhythmically to the familiar beats. The servant was several years older than her, but she found it a challenge to keep up with him. The tempo of the music picked up, and her feet moved faster and faster.

  Minutes later, the song ended abruptly.

  “Thank ye, Fearghas,” she said, laughing. “I love dancing, and I definitely needed this.”

  “Ye do it verra well,” her friend said, grinning.

  The bagpiper started a new tune. “Do ye want tae go for another round?” Fearghas asked.

  “Nay, I think I’ve had enough for now,” she said.

  Fearghas nodded and scanned the throng, looking for a new partner. He quickly found one and rejoined the circle.

  As Kila headed back to the edge of the crowd, she noticed Magy, one of the kitchen servants, hurrying in her direction. She shifted aside so she wasn’t in her way, but instead of brushing past her, the woman halted in front of Kila.

  “I brought ye a piece of blaeberry tart, mistress,” she said, handing her the pastry. “I baked it this morning. It usually disnae last too long at these gatherings.”

  The woman’s gesture touched her. She looked down at the plate and was surprised to see the delicate dessert.

  “Thank ye.” Kila took a bite of the pie and the flavors of the dessert burst in her mouth. Magy watched her reaction as if she was afraid that it might fall short of Kila’s expectations. “This is delicious,” she exclaimed.

  The servant beamed at her. “’Tis for helping my grandson. That medicine ye bought for me was much needed.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “How is your grandson?”

  “My wee laddie is now recovered. And as ye can see, he’s running among his friends,” she said, gesturing to a group of young boys chasing after a ball. “He wouldnae have been able tae do that without your generosity.”

  “I’m glad your grandson is recovered now,” she said, smiling.

  “I’m grateful tae ye. Ye are an angel.” She grabbed her hand, squeezing it. Someone shouted her name, and she made her apologies and left.

  “Magy told me that ye assisted her in the village,” William said, coming to stand next to her. “I’m impressed that even though she isnae your kin, ye still offered tae help her.”

  “As I told Magy, where I come from we support everyone whether they are a member of our clan or nae.”

  William looked at her as if she had revealed a saintly confession, and she felt slightly awkward.

  “Look at your daughter,” Kila said, attempting to divert the attention away from her. “It appears that she’s enjoying herself.”

  The distraction worked, and William turned to watch his daughter as she participated in a game.

  “She seems like a different bairn,” William said, echoing her thoughts.

  Isabel let out a sudden laugh, and she looked as engaged as any of the children there. If anything, the girl no longer appeared like the forlorn lass Kila met when she first arrived at the castle.

  When Isabel spotted them, she dropped out of the contest and ran over. Kila and William exchanged a smile as Isabel happily told them about the games she played.

  The three of them began to wander through the glade. The lass surprised her when she reached for Kila’s hand. In such a short period, William’s daughter had warmed up to her. She realized that this wasn’t an everyday occurrence, and she felt honored.

  They paused to watch a wrestling match. Grant spied William in the crowd and shouted, “William, we need your help.”

  “Sorry, lassies, I must go and do some chiefly duties. Ye can watch if ye like.”

  “I dinnae want tae watch,” Isabel said, making a face.

  “Ye go ahead,” Kila said. “I’ll stay with Isabel.”

  The two of them continued to stroll through the field, taking in the sights and sounds. Almost every area of the clearing had pockets of activity.

  “This festival reminds me of a large birthday celebration,” she observed.

  “I’ve never been tae a birthday celebration,” Isabel said.

  “Ye have never been tae a birthday party?” Her revelation startled her. “Nae even your own?”

  “Nay,” she shook her head. The joy she displayed earlier seemed to have evaporated, and a sad expression appeared on her youthful countenance. “My grandmother told me that ‘twas a dark day when my mother died. ‘Twas because I was born that she died, and my grandmother says that I shouldnae celebrate a day of mourning.”

  Kila frowned at hearing this. “Everyone should celebrate the day they are born. Ye shouldnae be punished for something that wasnae your fault.”

  “But my grandmother said I was the cause of my mother’s death. I’ve known this all my life,” she said, looking at the ground. “I never knew my mother’s clan, but my stepmother’s kin was nice, especially her parents. I miss them a wee bit.”

  “Do they come tae visit ye?” she asked gently.

  “Nay,” she shook her head. “They havenae visited since my stepmother died five years ago.”

  Kila fell silent as she considered the lass’s revelation. It was no wonder that the bairn was so unhappy. Any child living under such an oppressive and negative atmosphere would feel the same. She considered that the girl no longer had access to folks who loved her. That thought disturbed her.

  “I think we should have a gathering held in your honor.”

  “Ye do?” Isabel looked up, her eyes lighting with interest and cautious hope. “But what will we celebrate?”

  “Your birthday, of course.”

  “My birthday is gone. ‘Twas two months ago.”

  “That disnae matter. We’ll celebrate your recent birthday, and all the ones that have gone by.”

  “My da might nae approve of that.”

  “Leave it tae me,” Kila said. “I’ll speak tae your da and will make it happen.”

  Chapter 18

  The next day Kila had an opportunity to speak to William about the celebration. She explained what she had in mind.

  “I’m nae certain this is a guid idea,” he said
. “Isabel has never had a party held in her honor.”

  “That is the problem,” she said. “Eventually, she’ll need tae learn about dancing and socializing with her peers. And what better opportunity tae learn these things than at a function that commemorates her birthday?”

  He paused. “’Tis nae necessary tae celebrate the day of her birth.”

  “Of course ‘tis nae,” she agreed. “However we sometimes do unnecessary things.”

  Kila saw that he was starting to come around to her idea, and she pushed further. “Trust me. It will be merry affair,” she said. “The bairn hasnae much happiness in her short life.”

  “All right.” He let out a defeated sigh after he considered her logic. “We can hold a party, although it cannae be too extravagant,” he warned.

  “Nay, it willnae be extravagant,” she agreed. Kila clasped her hands tightly to stop herself from clapping and expressing too much enthusiasm. “I promise ye, ye willnae regret it.”

  The first hurdle was crossed. Although she didn’t have as much experience managing a castle as her sister, she knew enough about organizing social gatherings. She had already decided that this party would be special, and everyone would be discussing it for years to come.

  In the next few days, she worked with the servants to organize the occasion. She was content over how things were going. She had made friends with Magy, and with her influence, Kila had the rest of the servants doing her bidding.

  The celebration itself was two weeks away, but there was still much to do. Isabel trailed behind her, watching her as she ordered the servants around. Kila showed Isabel how to collaborate with the cook to come up with the supper menu, and they brainstormed the various types of entertainment to hire. She was surprised that she liked teaching Isabel all the things she knew about running events. William’s daughter was an apt learner, and actively contributed excellent ideas.

  During the times they weren’t preparing for the party, they stayed in the solar. Their conversation was limited, but there were a few occasions when Kaithren and her maids had other engagements to attend. This left Kila and Isabel alone. With no one around to judge them, they spent the day doing what they wanted. For Kila, it was reading from her favorite book.

  But today Kila couldn’t focus on the words. She looked up and saw Isabel bent over her embroidery hoop. Seeing the lass’s intense concentration wasn’t a new observation, but Kila felt curious and peeked at the girl’s creation.

  “Ye are a wonder,” she gasped as she took in Isabel’s handiwork. The lass had created a small scene from the story that Kila had told her. “I wasnae aware that ye were sae gifted.”

  When Kila was Isabel’s age, she had no real interest in doing needlework. All she wanted was to run around with her friends. But she acknowledged that this child was different from herself, and she felt compelled to encourage the bairn’s budding talent.

  For a second, Isabel beamed at the compliment, but then she shrugged. “My stepmother showed me how tae sew, and I like it.”

  “Why dinnae we commission a weaver tae create a small tapestry?” she suggested. “We can display the artwork for all tae see.”

  “Och, that would be wonderful,” Isabel exclaimed. But then in the next moment, her face fell. “I dinnae think either my da or my grandmother would pay for the project.”

  “Dinnae worry, I have money, and will pay for the wall hanging,” she said. “Let us think of a design.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon coming up with a plan, but Kila wasn’t satisfied with any of the ideas. The tapestry had to be something special, something that would create awe in the viewers.

  When Kaithren returned to the solar with the other ladies, Kila got up from her stool.

  “I’m feeling a wee fatigued today and think I’ll go for a stroll,” she said.

  “May I go with ye?” Isabel asked, getting up as well.

  She was about to answer, but Kaithren spoke up. “Ye will stay here, lass,” she said, her tone brokering no argument.

  Isabel sat down as disappointment crept into her face. Kila sent the girl a sympathetic look. “I’ll see ye at supper.”

  Isabel nodded and then bent her head to continue working on her embroidery hoop.

  As soon as Kila stepped outside the solar, she felt the tension ease from her shoulders. William’s mother still had not forgiven her for taking her granddaughter to visit the pigs, and Kila couldn’t stand Kaithren’s frosty attitude.

  She started to make her way to the garden outside when she decided against the idea. She needed a place to continue her contemplation of the tapestry. Much thought was required since this artwork would be prominently showcased in the great room. One day, this piece might even be inherited by Isabel’s children.

  After considering her options, she decided the best location to mull over her ideas was her bedchamber. Upon entering her room, she immediately went to the small desk that was pushed to a corner of the room. The quiet in the room was what she needed. She didn’t have to worry about making polite conversation with the other ladies or with anyone else for that matter.

  But when several minutes went by, frustration began to build up inside her. She had high hopes for the project. However, inspiration had yet to hit her. She frowned. Usually, she didn’t lack ideas.

  Kila pushed the chair back and stood up. Pivoting on her heels, she caught sight of the elaborate carvings on the bed posts. Her feeling of discontent dwindled and was replaced by a grain of hope. She walked over to the bed to inspect the posts. The artist had done a meticulous job in etching images of the fae onto the polished wood. She ran her fingers over the design and went to examine the base of the pillar.

  As she was crouched on the floor, she noticed a small wooden box underneath the bed. It was pushed close to the headboard. Curiosity quickly grabbed hold of her. She went on her belly and crawled under the bed to retrieve the box.

  When she finally brought the container out in the open, she knelt in front of the object, unable to take her eyes off it. Compared to the ornate carvings in the room, this box was plain. After she glanced behind her to ensure that no one was in the room, she slowly opened the lid.

  As it turned out, there was nothing special inside. In all, it held a hairbrush, some hairpins, and a mirror. Absently, she lifted the mirror to inspect the carvings on the handle. But it was then that she noticed a set of embroidery patterns near the bottom of the container.

  One by one, she took out the material, gaping as each design appeared more exquisite than the next. It was obvious that the stitchwork was created by someone with exceptional skill, and that this series of panels were done over some time.

  Kila examined a piece that depicted a snipe. Almost immediately she noticed the quality of the silk, gold and silver threads. The chestnut-colored bird had a long, slender bill, and stood in a marsh. It had one foot lifted as if it were about to take flight. The motif was framed in a circular border, but the corners of the fabric were balanced with images of bees and snails. She rotated the fabric slightly and noticed the initials ‘A’ and ‘M’ stitched elaborately on the right hand side. Kila quickly flipped through the designs and noticed the same embellished letters on every panel.

  She let out a happy sigh. Her prayers were answered. These embroidery pieces were perfect. The motifs were unique, and a professional weaver would have no problems stitching the patterns together to form a wall hanging. If all went well, this project could be finished in time for the gathering.

  The idea of unveiling the tapestry made her feel giddy. She gathered the fabric and started to close the lid when she spotted a folded piece of parchment at the very bottom of the box. She knew that many motifs were reproduced from popular woodcut illustrations found in books. Perhaps the artist had included potential ink sketches for future projects. She took the sheepskin out and eagerly smoothed it over her thighs. She then lifted it high enough so she could catch some light that came through the window.

  Bu
t she blinked when she wasn’t able to find any pictures. Instead, she found words and their meanings didn’t make sense to her. She read it again.

  Dearest William,

  Forgive me. I dinnae blame ye, I blame myself. Please, dinnae tell my family what I’ve done.

  Forever yours, Anna.

  Was this William’s wife? There wasn’t any other explanation. But what did she do that was so terrible? And why did she want to keep it a secret?

  Kila wasn’t sure how long she crouched on the stone floor, pondering the many points that ran through her head. But then the distinct tapping at the door snapped her back to reality. She knew that it was Alys who wanted entry.

  Kila folded the parchment, tucked it in her sleeve, and quickly pushed the wooden box back under the bed. She gathered the panels in one hand while she dusted the dirt from her gown.

  “Come in,” she said loudly.

  “I was looking all over for ye,” Alys announced as she stepped inside the chamber. “Your brother said ye were in the solar, but the ladies in the solar said ye left a couple of hours ago.” She peered into her face. “Are ye all right? Ye look pale.”

  “It must be the change of weather,” she said, barely concentrating on the query. “Alys, what was the name of the MacTyrnell’s last wife?”

  She drew her brows together. “I believe ‘twas Anna MacHewen,” she said.

  “What do ye ken of her?”

  “I dinnae ken much, but I can find out for ye.”

  “Aye, that would be lovely,” she said and started to turn away, but then she remembered the panels. She handed the fabric pieces to her. “I want ye tae find a weaver, and have him put these together for a wall hanging. He should have it ready before the party.”

  “Och, about the party,” she said, sounding uncomfortable.

  “What about it?” she asked, her brow arched. Unexpectedly she felt a strange, ominous feeling swirling in her stomach.

  “I came tae tell ye that the celebration has been canceled.”

  “Canceled?” she repeated, the thoughts of William’s dead wife vanishing from her mind. “What are ye talking about? How did this happen?”