“Behave, or the Cameron’s will get ye,” was her nursemaid’s favourite saying when she was a child, but one which her mother did not encourage.
“Why do we hate the Cameron’s so much, mother?” she had asked when she was just a bairn, and barely able to speak.
“We do not all hate the Cameron’s, but we are told tae regularly,” her mother had replied, and that had been the end of the conversation.
This evening’s feast would be a reminder of that fact, as Murdoch Mackintosh once more told the clan of the need to rid themselves of the Cameron threat once and for all. Now, as he stood welcoming his guests, Murdoch Mackintosh knew that another year had passed and still the young pretender, as he called Andrew, lived out in the hills with that fiend of a mother and his traitorous brother. The annual gathering of the clan reminded Murdoch of the fact that his brother, once his right-hand man all those years ago, had still sided with the enemy. A fact which he could never forgive him for.
“Welcome my friends, welcome,” he said, as several more of his clansmen rode into the courtyard.
“It is an honour to be here once again, Laird. I trust time is treating ye well?” the man replied, dismounting his horse and embracing Murdoch for the two were old friends and had fought many battles together.
“Aye,” the Laird replied, “well enough, there is always one more difficulty tae overcome though,” Murdoch replied.
“The life of a noble Laird is surely fraught with every kind of difficulty, know of our loyalty and allegiance to ye though,” the man said, his horse being led away to the stables.
“The loyalty of this clan is undoubted,” Murdoch replied, “and ye do me the honour of travelling here this day.”
More guests continued to arrive, and Murdoch played the host. Welcoming noble men and women to the Cameron castle as he had done every year since he had killed Iain Cameron and made himself Laird.
* * *
“He will expect ye to sit on the high table, Nairne,” Una said, as she and her daughter descended from their chambers for the great feast that night.
“I dinnae wish to be on show, mother. I will sit with the servants for all I care. I am not some prize possession,” Nairne replied.
“Then sit there in support of me, for I have no choice,” her mother replied as the sound of the pipers now came from the Great Hall.
The castle was filled with guests, noble men and women of the clan dressed in their finery for the feast. The smells of a dozen different dishes wafted from the tables as the servants went about filling flagons and fetching yet more delicacies from the kitchen. Murdoch had spared no expense, and as Nairne and her mother arrived into the Great Hall, he pointed to seats on either side of him upon the high table which was raised upon a dais, the Mackintosh banner unfurled behind it.
“The Lady Una and Lady Nairne,” the steward announced, a piper piping them to their places, Nairne and her mother looking around nervously as all eyes were upon them.
“Must we bear this, mother?”
“It is only for one night a year, Nairne. Smile and appear as contented as ye can be,” her mother replied, as they took their seats on either side of Murdoch’s chair.
As the last guests were welcomed, the Laird took his place and called for quiet, standing at his place in the centre of the high table and looking out at the gathered guests before him.
“My dear friends, the good Lord has seen fit tae provide this bounty for us, so let us thank him and be grateful that we are gathered here tonight. Let the feast begin.”
Now Murdoch took his seat, his words a mere precursor to the longer speech which would no doubt come later. He piled his plate high with food and called for mead to be brought, raising his flagon and toasting those around him before turning to Una.
“A great gathering is it not?” he said, “it shows our strength, a good thing in these times of uncertainty.”
“Ye have said that every year since first ye summoned the clan here,” she replied, her own plate meagerly filled, for she disliked the excesses favoured by Murdoch when so many under his watch went hungry.
“And I am right tae say that, don’t ye think so, Nairne?” he replied, turning to his right, where Nairne was following the example of her mother.
Nairne remained silent.
“Stubborn like yer mother,” Murdoch continued, shaking his head and taking another drink of mead.
Nairne had no desire to give Murdoch the satisfaction of an answer, and she sat in silence throughout the meal as next to her the Laird became gradually more intoxicated. She despised him for the way in which he treated them, subjecting them to his every whim and will. Tonight, her feelings were magnified by the feting which the other clan members gave to their Laird as toast after toast proclaimed him victor over the Cameron’s and strong protector of the glen.
“My friends,” Murdoch said, rising to his feet as the final plates of food were cleared from the table, “my friends,” and he raised his glass again.
“Today we gather, as we do each year, with a grave threat still hanging over us. When I took control of the Cameron lands and killed their Laird these twenty-one years past,” at these words a cheer went up from the gathered assembly, and there was much stamping of feet.
“When I became Laird, I dinnae expect us still tae be fighting this battle all these years later, but fight it we still do. Together we have fought skirmishes, sought tae entrap our enemy, finish him once and for all, but always he seems tae elude us. This is not failure my friends, no, no, no,” and at this Nairne rolled her eyes.
It was always the same speech, a reminder that Stewart Mackintosh, Murdoch’s traitorous brother, was still at large and that Murdoch would stop at nothing to avenge himself upon him. Except he had never done so, choosing instead to send others out in futile attempts to catch and kill the brother who had betrayed him. Murdoch was a coward, and as Nairne listened to his speech, she found herself hating him more and more.
“We bide time,” Murdoch said, drunkenly wagging his finger at the assembly, “we bide our time for the moment when not only will I be avenged upon my brother but also find an opportunity to kill that young pretender in the hills. The man who would call himself Laird of this castle.”
Further toasts were proposed, and Murdoch gladly accepted the adulation given him. Once again, the room settled to listen to the Laird’s words, Una and Nairne both sat in boredom either side. They heard this every day. Heard about the betrayal of Murdoch by his brother and the scar which it had left upon his heart. They heard about Rhona, the wife of Iain Cameron who had cruelly escaped on the day of Murdoch’s marriage and they heard of the Laird’s incessant desire to wreak revenge upon them all. A vengeance which, when it came, would be bloody.
“There is only one Laird over this glen, and it is I. I am master, overseer, protector and rule by right. Let them challenge me if they wish, but we are ready? Are we not?” and with these words, the whole company rose as one, cheering the Laird, and crying out against the Camerons, the cowards in the forest whom Murdoch hated so much.
Now the Laird slumped back into his chair, exhausted by his own outpouring of emotion and the effects of the liquor. He seized hold of Una’s arm and drew her close to him.
“I shall have my revenge upon them, lassie, ye see if I don’t.”
“Aye, so ye say,” she replied, shaking her arm free as he signalled for further refreshments to be brought.
The pipers now began to play, and a chorus of singing erupted amongst the gathered clansmen
“For these are my mountains, and this is my glen
The braes of my childhood will know me again
No land's ever claimed me tho' far I did roam
For these are my mountains, and I'm going home.”
The Laird called for a further round of the song, and he joined the clansmen on the tables below, their flagons refilled and much merry-making ensuing. This was the cue for Nairne and her mother to leave, and they did so with
out ceremony, walking arm and arm from the Great Hall as the sound of the Mackintosh revelry continued behind.
“Is all of what he says true, mother?” Nairne asked the question she had long pondered.
As a child, she was raised to despise the Cameron’s but having never met one, nor knowing anything of them all she knew was what others told her.
“Ye ask me this question each year, and each year I must tell ye that what Murdoch says is what is believed. Whether tis’ true or not,” her mother replied.
“Aye, but what do ye think, mother? Ye must have known some Cameron’s or had dealings with them. They are supposed to reside in the forests and be up upon the mountainside in the crofts, what do ye know of them?” Nairne persisted.
“Only that Murdoch’s words are not all they may seem. It is true that his brother Stewart helped the wife of Iain Cameron tae escape. Had he not done so then she tae would have been subjected tae the same life that we are, but as for these folks being wicked? I see wickedness closer tae home, Nairne.”
“Do ye know any of them? Have ye met them?” Nairne persisted.
When I carried ye there was a woman in the forest whom I used tae go tae for remedies, she was a Cameron, and not a kinder woman could be found. If it were not for her, I wonder whether ye should have been the healthy bairn ye were. Of course, Murdoch forbade it, but I still thank the good Lord for her, though it is many years since I saw her. Dinnae be getting ideas though, Nairne. Ye know what the Laird said about ye wandering intae the forest.”
Nairne made no reply, though she was even more curious about the mysterious Cameron’s who lived amongst the trees. The two women now bid one another a good night, as down below the revelry continued, and Murdoch Mackintosh continued to play the Laird.
As Nairne went to sleep that night, she wondered if it had been a Cameron that she had seen out in the forest that day? He certainly didn’t seem a wicked and dangerous man to her. Once again, a pang of guilt ran through her as she wondered just what it was he wanted to say to her. She would not be prevented from revisiting the pool, of that she was certain.
Chapter Five
‘A Happy Sight’
The next day the castle was quiet, many of the guests having stayed up long into the night singing songs and telling stories. Nairne rose early, not wishing to be seen as she took her leave of the castle.
She had determined to ignore Murdoch’s orders and the advice of her mother to wait until things had quietened down a little. Nairne was a free-spirited girl, and once she had determined a course of action, she always saw it through.
Only a few men stood guard on the castle gate, but as she approached the captain of the guards stepped forward and raised his hand.
“Where do ye think ye are going, lassie? Ye know the Laird has forbidden ye tae walk in the forests now,” he glowered down at the girl.
“And I suppose ye have always obeyed the Laird’s instructions,” she looked up him up and down cynically.
“I am loyal to the Laird, and it is my sworn duty to protect him and this castle’s inhabitants, now go back tae yer bed lassie, and dinnae try to be sneaking out at this time of day.”
“Who says I am going intae the forests anyway?” she replied as if casually dismissing the very idea.
“Where is it ye are going tae then? The dawn has hardly broken, and ye are dressed in yer shawl as if preparing for a journey,” he replied, shaking his head at her, for the captain had heard all of Nairne’s tales before and was adamant that she would not pass him by.
“I am going to the village to pray at the kirk, one of your men may accompany me if ye so wish.”
At these words, the captain of the guard sighed and turning to his men he signalled for two of them to accompany her, the gates of the castle now opened.
“No tricks though lassie or ye shall know the Laird’s wrath, that is certain,” the captain watched as Nairne and his men walked down the track towards the kirk.
Outside the church, she paused and looked at the two men, wondering if they could easily be bribed but instead, she paused and smiled.
“Ye would not watch me at my prayers, for that is an intimate moment between the Lord and me, wait out here whilst I pray,” she added and leaving them with no choice but to obey she slipped into the cool, dark interior of the church.
The kirk was always open, candles flickering before the crude statues and several of the peasants praying even at this early hour. Nairne had no intention of saying her prayers, and she slipped through the door of the sacristy, checking whether the priest was at his devotions, before letting herself out of the side door and running off into the forest. It would be at least half an hour before the guards became suspicious, and by that time she would be long gone
The wood was dense, and she was soon deep within its shades, the trees had grown thick and overhanging as she took to the familiar paths. Nairne had known the forest ever since she could remember. It’s paths, and ways were as familiar to her as any which ran through the glen and soon she was taking the usual path towards the pool where she had seen the mysterious stranger. The sun had not yet warmed the woodland beneath the canopy, and the cool damp air was heavy with the scent of the forest. She looked around her for any signs that she was not alone, but no sound or movement came, except the gentle rustling of the trees.
At this early hour, few would be traversing the forest ways, and Nairne reveled in the stillness and solitude of that beautiful place. Without thinking she began to sing, recalling snatches of tunes her nursemaid would sing to her. As she walked, she gathered up flowers into a posy, tying them together with grass to take home to her mother as a gift.
This morning the whole forest appeared alive, and her song echoed the happiness which she felt at finding freedom within the trees. How long she walked was unimportant, her feet knew where they were taking her and very soon through the trees came the sounds of the waterfall flowing into the deep clear pool.
A slight nervousness crept over Nairne as she came into the glade. She looked around furtively, like a forest animal who wonders if they are being watched. It was as though at any moment, a whole host of Cameron men would appear and surprise her. But the forest was still, save for a gentle breeze in the canopy above.
“Ye are silly,” Nairne scolded herself softly, shaking her head and removing her tunic.
The water looked cool and inviting, and now the heat of the day was warming the air. It was high summer now, and the sun would be intense at its zenith. Gently she slipped her feet into the cold water, standing on a boulder submerged beneath the surface and from which it was her custom to dive into the depths below.
She breathed in and dived, entering the water like a silver salmon leaping and splashing into the water and swimming strongly to the other side where she emerged breathlessly and invigorated. Again, she dived and swam across the pool, this time beneath the waterfall which was crisp and refreshing, falling over her body as she climbed onto rocks and stood beneath its flow, diving once again. How wonderfully free she felt and as she swam more gently, allowed herself to float upon her back and look up the sky above she sang once more.
“Oh, roe, soon shall I see them, oh,
Hee-roe, see them, oh see them.
Oh, roe, soon shall I see them,
the mist covered mountains of home!
There shall I visit the place of my birth.
They'll give me a welcome the warmest on earth.
So loving and kind, full of music and mirth,
the sweet-sounding language of home.”
Her words sounded sweet upon the air; the voice as fair as any the forest had heard. It was to the forest she believed herself to be singing, a pretty ballad to the beautiful glen which was her natural home yet unbeknownst to Nairne she had a captive audience, a young man who had almost given up hope of ever seeing her again.
* * *
“Cairstine asked me to visit her again today, she has some more sorrel for ye,” Andrew t
ried to sound nonchalant, as his mother ladled a large bowl of oatmeal porridge out to him.
“The sorrel she sent yesterday was enough, I have made little griddle cakes which will keep a while, the sorrel gives a flavour ever so delicious,” Rhona sensed that her son was on a more pressing errand than simply visiting his Godmother once again.
“I … I like tae see her though,” Andrew continued, faltering a little as he tried to think of another reason why he should make his way down into the forest that morning instead of tending to his chores.
Highlander's Rightful Claim (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 4