“Many years of experience lassie, many years indeed, and maybe one day ye shall marry a man who can drink as well as yer father can,” Murdoch poured himself yet another glass of whisky and slumped forward in his seat.
“Like me, Laird? I could marry the lassie and make a decent woman out of her,” the captain turned to Nairne and reached his arms out for her in a grotesque manner
Nairne shuddered but did move away from the leering man, pouring more whisky into his glass and handing it to him.
“Ye must drink, sir, for the night is young and there is much merrymaking still tae be had,” she smiled.
“Aye, much merrymaking,” Murdoch raised his glass in another toast, the liquid spilling over the sides as he and the captain laughed loudly together, Nairne still held in the unpleasant man’s monstrous grip.
“I am going to my bed now,” Una said, standing, “Nairne, are ye coming tae?”
“No, woman, she is staying here with us. For once it seems that Nairne is behaving like the daughter she should be, while ye remain the wife I never wanted,” Murdoch sneered at his wife, who turned and walked away.
“Ye cannot find a decent woman now, can ye, Laird?” the captain replied, drinking deeply from his whisky glass and smiling again at Nairne.
“Then ye must keep looking then, my laddie,” Murdoch laughed at the captain as he drank deeply from his whisky glass.
This unpleasant display of behavior continued long into the night, as further barrels of whisky were brought, and the guests became ever more drunk and debauched. Nairne played along, laughing at the captain’s jokes, flattering and humoring him. But as the fire burned low, and the torches lining the walls began to smolder, she saw her chance to act.
By now he was so drunk that he slumped forward onto the table, mumbling something about her being a bonnie lassie, as he snorted and groaned. Her father too was in a similar state, his head resting upon the table and as he fell into a deep, liquor induced, sleep, his arm knocked his glass, sending it to the floor with a smash. But even this did not awaken either of them and glancing around Nairne realized now was her chance.
Reaching down she undid the captain’s belt containing the large ring upon which dangled all the keys of the great castle and slipping it off, moved quickly from the Great Hall, leaving the sound of snoring behind her.
Outside the night was chilly and the moon was high in the night sky, casting a steely light upon the courtyard. Looking up to the castle battlements she saw two of the guardsmen on patrol. They were halfway around which meant she must wait for them to arrive back before slipping down to the dungeons, that way she would have the maximum amount of time available to free Andrew and help him escape. Her heart was beating fast as she hid in the shadows. Above her, she could hear the men in conversation, paying little attention to their duties and complaining about having to be on duty for the fourth night in a row. As they passed above, they had no idea that below was Nairne Mackintosh, and in her hands, she held the keys to the dungeons they were meant to be guarding.
Nairne knew that at any moment, the loss of the keys might be discovered and as soon as the coast was clear, she ran across the courtyard to the dungeon door. It was unlocked, just as it had been the other night, for there was no need to guard a door from which no one could escape, so solid were the dungeon doors below. She made her way quietly down the stairs, listening for any sounds coming from above in the guardroom, but all was quiet.
“Andrew … Andrew,” she hissed, “wake up, I have come tae rescue ye, hurry now,” she peered through the darkness towards where Andrew lay on the bed in his cell.
He started at the sound of her voice, half asleep and believing that her words were but a dream.
“Come on, get up,” she hissed again, fumbling with the keys and trying different ones in the lock until finally, the rusty door gave way.
It creaked open with a noise that sounded as if it could wake the dead. Now he knew he was not dreaming, and Andrew wasted no time. Running to the cell door, he embraced Nairne for a moment, holding her close to him, a tear running down his cheek at the relief of finally escaping this terrible ordeal.
“Come now, ye are not safe yet, be quick,” she whispered, “follow me.”
Closing the cell door behind him, locking it so any casual observer would believe Andrew to still be inside. They crept back past the other dungeons and out into the courtyard above. The sentries on the battlements were passing overhead, and Nairne pushed Andrew close into the shadows until they had passed.
“Ye can leave by the side gate of the castle, hurry now,” she urged, and on her signal, they ran across the courtyard towards the castle gardens beyond.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Escape!’
The castle gardens were pitch black, the moon and stars concealed behind thick clouds as Andrew and Nairne picked their way carefully along the sidewall of the gardens, keeping close against the foliage and plants.
“Ye are not safe until ye are far away from here, far, far away. Ye must go deep intae the forests, ye cannot be seen here again,” Nairne whispered, as they arrived at the doorway through the wall.
“But what about ye? Come with me Nairne, ye cannot stay here with such a terrible man, I will look after ye, we can live together in the forest, this is no life for ye, trapped in this terrible place with Murdoch and his men,” Andrew took hold of Nairne’s hand.
“I cannot leave, he will know I have helped ye tae escape, and besides, I cannot leave my dear mother here tae his mercies. He would kill her if I escaped. No, ye must go, he will not suspect me if my plan works, but ye must go now so I can return these keys and make it look like the guards were idle in their duties.”
Andrew smiled at her through the darkness and without thinking, took her in his arms and kissed her. He hadn’t meant to do it, but the relief in being free from the dungeons, and with the emotions building inside him, it was overwhelming, and as they shared their first kiss she placed her arms around him, holding him close.
“When will I see ye again, Nairne?”
“In three days, by the pool, in the morning when the sun is just rising, but if I am not there, then ye know the worst has happened. But ye must go now, Andrew, dinnae worry about me, it was worth the danger to help ye escape, ye are a kind and gentle man, and I have not felt such feelings for anyone before, please go, hurry,” and opening the side door, she ushered him out.
“What if I never see ye again, Nairne? I could not live with that,” Andrew spoke urgently as his hand grasped hers.
“Ye will do, I promise, meet me in three days, there at the pool, things will have settled down, but now ye must hurry.”
He turned once more to kiss her, and in the doorway, between freedom and the castle, they shared a final moment of intimacy.
Nairne watched as Andrew ran into the woods, his feet as swift as the deer, escaping from the horrors within. There was a tear in her eye as she watched him go. The events of the past few days had not allowed her to reflect upon her feelings for the young. She felt desperately angry towards her father; how dare he imprison an innocent forest dweller for merely speaking with his daughter. The injustice of it burned in her heart, but she smiled to herself as she crept back across the castle gardens, knowing that very soon the escape would be discovered, and an uproar ensue.
Nairne stole stealthily into the Great Hall, listening carefully for any sounds of movement, but all she could hear was the low rhythmic snoring of several guests. There, slumped on to the high table, was her father and the captain of the guards, still sleeping soundly in their intoxicated state. Quietly she made her way onto the dais and slipped the key back onto the captain’s belt. He stirred a little and uttered something indecipherable, but it was clear he had not noticed her deception and smiling once again she left the Great Hall and made haste to her chambers.
The fire was burning low, and she prepared for bed, happy in the knowledge that Andrew Macleod was now running through the fo
rest to safety. The clouds had cleared a little, and she stood at the window looking out over the woods beyond. The great mass of trees stretched endlessly into the distance, where the mountains rose up tall and proud against the starry sky. She pictured Andrew running through the trees and imagined the happy reunion with his mother. She had longed to go with him, to escape from the door in the castle wall and find freedom amongst the trees. It reminded her of the story of Rhona and her uncle, perhaps they too had used that door through which to flee. It was a tale which had always fascinated her, though her father told it the most virulent terms. How daring of her uncle, he must have truly loved the lassie to give up everything for her, and what had happened to the child? Was he hiding up on the mountainside, even now?
Getting into bed, she pulled the curtains around her and settled down to sleep. It would not be long before the castle was in an uproar, and the escape of Andrew discovered. But there was nothing to link her to the empty dungeon. As far as everyone was concerned, she had been in her chambers the whole time and had heard nothing down below. As she fell asleep, Nairne smiled to herself, thoughts of Andrew foremost in her mind.
* * *
As he left the castle through the side door, Andrew cast a final look back towards Nairne, she was standing in the doorway, her face concealed in the darkness. He desperately wanted to run back to her, kiss her once again and implore her to follow him to freedom. But he knew she could never leave her mother and that it was far safer for them to meet in secret than to be fugitives together. Now, he ran into the trees, running into freedom and away from the terrible ordeal he had endured at the hands of Murdoch Mackintosh.
Andrew Cameron was no coward, but he had been terrified of what the pretender intended to do with him. There was no telling what that wicked man might decide to do. Did he intend to have Andrew killed? An example to others not to dally with his daughter, or would he have held him there for months, starving and weakening him? It didn’t bear thinking about, and after running for several miles through the trees, Andrew paused to catch his breath.
The forest was pitch black, and despite his love for the woods, he felt uneasy. It was rare for him to be here at night, though occasionally he would camp by one of the pools, kindling a little fire to drive away the darkness. Now, the trees hung over him oppressively, and the noises coming from distant glades were unfamiliar. There was no birdsong, just the occasional hoot of an owl, or the sound of an unseen animal running through the undergrowth. The darkness was impenetrable, and Andrew found himself fearful lest at any moment something, or someone, should pounce upon him. He had no sword, or weapon, with which to defend himself and the night was cold without a cloak to keep him warm.
“Steady yerself laddie, ye are Laird of these parts, the hard part is over,” he told himself, taking up a study stick which had almost tripped him up and held it like a crude weapon before him.
It was hard to know his bearings, he was quite lost, though at first, thought he recognized several of the paths they had taken with the soldiers the other day. But in the darkness, and after lack of sleep and food in those wicked dungeons, Andrew found himself confused. He took this path and that, trying his best to stay on a steady course which would take him far away from the castle. Things would look better in the daylight, he kept telling himself, all that mattered was getting as far away as possible.
The clouds had cleared a little as he emerged quite suddenly onto a wider path which seemed to be used for horses as well as men. The moon cast its cold light through the opening of the trees above, and Andrew looked nervously to left and right for any signs of soldiers. He had no idea where he was, and the path was unfamiliar, but just as he was turning back into the forest heard a noise quite unlike those he had heard so far that night. It was the sound of footsteps. Several steps, moving at speed, though making little noise.
Andrew was taken off guard and looked around for a place to hide, rushing back into the trees, just as a group of dark figures rounded the corner. Holding his breath, he buried his face into his arms, hoping that the darkness would disguise him on the forest floor, where he lay just a few feet from the path.
“The laddie will be dead by now,” a voice said, “and we will be tae if we continue this foolish mission.”
“We cannot just leave him tae his fate, and if Murdoch has discovered who he is well …” another said.
“If Murdoch has discovered …” the first replied, but they were cut short by a cry of relief coming from the trees.
“Stewart, Uncle Duncan, I am here, it’s Andrew, I am here,” the lad called through the darkness.
The sound of drawing swords came from the path, as Andrew rushed from the trees and stood before the amazed party of Cameron’s, shocked as though they had seen a ghost.
“Andrew, is that ye?” Stewart stepped forward and grabbed Andrew by his shoulders.
“Aye, tis’ me, I escaped, and I had no idea where tae run, but have tried to get as far away from that wicked place as possible,” Andrew gushed, his relief palpable, as he embraced his stepfather.
“Yer mother is worried sick about ye, and so are all of us. What were ye thinking laddie, lying tae us about yer liaisons with a lassie in the forest, a lassie who is a Mackintosh tae, lying and skulking around,” Duncan now took hold of Andrew, anger rising in his voice.
“I … I am fine now, she helped me tae escape, it was just … I love her,” Andrew sobbed, the thoughts of his heart now welling up in speech, tears forming in his eyes as the emotions of the past days overwhelmed him.
“Aye, I saw ye with her the other day, that’s right, I followed ye and a good thing I did else we would have no idea what had happened to ye. Ye would risk our lives in coming tae rescue ye for a lassie ye hardly know, and a Mackintosh at that, come now, we are taking ye home. Yer mother has not slept, she is distraught tae think ye might have been dead,” Duncan continued.
“I am alright, he had no intention of killing me, I dinnae think,” Andrew reasoned, as they pushed him roughly along the road, the other Cameron’s muttering amongst themselves.
“I dinnae think ye see this as seriously as we do,” Stewart spoke through the darkness, “if Murdoch had recognized ye for who ye are then he would have killed ye in an instant, and with you gone, he would have an even stronger claim upon the Lairdship. If ye were tae die, then who would lead this clan in yer absence, not tae mention the heartbreak it would cause yer mother.”
“He dinnae recognize me, he thinks I am a forest dweller,” Andrew replied sulkily, he had no desire to be chastised in such a way by his stepfather and uncle, his anger growing at their lack of sympathy for what he had just escaped.
“And what about the lassie?” Duncan queried, “does she know ye are a Cameron? Is her tongue loose, will she reveal yer little secret tae Murdoch?”
“She dinnae know either, she thinks I am Cairstine’s son, and that I live in the forest,” Andrew started to tire a little as they marched through the forest, his legs weak, his body craving food.
At these words, his uncle laughed.
“So ye have fallen in love with a lassie to whom ye have lied about yer true self, and who, if she finds out ye are a Cameron, will wish nothing more tae do with ye.”
“No, she hates her father …” Andrew blurted out but realising his mistake, cut short his words.
“What did ye just say, laddie?” Stewart halted the party and turned to Andrew, his voice breathless.
“I … nothing, I meant …” Andrew stammered.
“Are ye telling me, laddie, that the girl yer uncle saw ye with the other day was Murdoch Mackintosh’s daughter?” And taking Andrew by the shoulders, Stewart pulled him close.
“I … aye, but …” Andrew began.
“Ye are a fool and make no mistake, if he had known that it was the son of Iain Cameron he had in his dungeons and ye had been cavorting with his daughter then ye would have been killed for certain, ye cannot see her again, do ye understand? Ye are putting
all our lives at risk.” With that, Stewart marched on ahead of Andrew and the others, the first signs of dawn breaking over the mountain tops beyond.
Chapter Seventeen
‘A Dismal Return’
It was a sullen party returning to the crofts that morning, Rhona was watching for them, and as the men appeared over the horizon, she and several others ran to meet them.
“Stewart, is he … oh thank the Lord, Andrew, whatever happened tae ye?” Rhona ran to embrace her son, who stood quietly amidst the rescue party on the heathers.
“What happened, Stewart, did ye go tae that wicked place? Was Murdoch holding him?” she asked.
“Ye ask the laddie what he has been doing,” Stewart turned away from Andrew and walked across the heathers to the crofts beyond.
Highlander's Rightful Claim (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 13