Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
T here was much to do to prepare for the clan gathering. While it was months away, Margaret wanted to begin the preparations sooner rather than later.
Lizabet was finally able to leave the downstairs bedchamber and return to her husband above stairs. The twins were growing like weeds, and their older sisters doted on them with much love and affection.
Duncan was doing far better than anyone had originally anticipated. He had gained weight and a little bit of confidence, as well as two very close friends in Symon and Hugh. The three of them were inseparable.
With Duncan’s improved health, it was no longer necessary to keep Garrett around. Aiden banished him from the clan and sent him on his way, with nothing more than the clothes on his back. Everyone was glad to be rid of him.
Margaret, understanding the depths of the mental anguish and pain that Duncan had experienced, had lied to the little boy. He loved his father, regardless of the man’s cruel treatment. Therefore, she lied and told him he had gone to help their king with a very important mission, one that could never be discussed.
Brodie had also improved. He no longer sat in the darkness of his bedchamber. He was once again participating in life, and Margaret discovered she sincerely liked the man. Although his ability to find his way around without any kind of help was uncanny, what stunned her even more was the skill he displayed with his sword.
’Twas a bright, sunny day at the end of February. The sun had melted all remnants of the winter’s snow, and ’twas good to be out of doors again. The men were in the large outer courtyard training. And Brodie was training right along with them.
’Twas Lizabet’s first day out of doors since giving birth. She had Emery the Younger tucked into a linen sling affixed to her chest. Margaret happily carried his brother, Andrew, in her arms.
Elayne wrangled the little children, whilst Annabella struggled with her burgeoning belly. ’Twas difficult to watch as she tried to sit on the wool blanket, but she somehow managed.
“It will nae be long now,” Elayne told her encouragingly. “He should be here next month, aye?”
Annabella shook her head as she blew out a heavy breath. “Nae,” she said. “The beginning of April.”
Elayne’s mouth curved into a little o , a bit surprised. “I am sorry,” she said. “’Tis difficult to keep all these births straight in my head.”
’Twas her polite way of saying she looked like she should have had her babe last month.
Soon, the women were all settled in, wrapped in warm blankets and watching their men train. ’Twas indeed a sight to behold.
Margaret had never taken the time to watch the MacCallen men train. She’d been far too busy trying to stay out of her mother’s way or, worse yet, doing the evil woman’s bidding.
’Twas her husband who drew her attention. She sat, nearly mesmerized, as he battled with one of the younger men. She didn’t know the young man’s name, but it didn’t matter. She was focused on her husband.
Aiden moved with a powerful grace that belied logic. ’Twas as if he were dancing, and his sword was his partner. Holding it with both hands, he lifted the blade over his shoulder and thrust it downward. Margaret flinched as it clashed against his opponent’s sword.
Back and forth they went, sword clashing against sword. Aiden spun around, crouched low, and kicked one leg outward. It caught the man unawares, causing him to fall backward with a thump . The man lost his grip on his sword, and it went sliding across the grass.
“Damn it, Richard!” Aiden said as he picked up the man’s sword. “That is the fourth time today that I was able to do that to ye.”
Duly chastised, the man got to his feet and accepted the sword from his laird. Hanging his head in shame, he apologized.
“Where on earth is yer mind, Richard?”
Rather sheepishly, Richard glanced toward where the women were sitting. His eyes fell on Faith, who was smiling rather shyly at the young man.
The older women noticed it.
Aiden most assuredly noticed it.
He put both hands on the man’s chest and knocked him onto his rump. A heartbeat later, he was pulling Richard to his feet. With the man’s tunic clutched betwixt hard fists, Aiden seethed at him. “She is naught but four and ten!”
Grace heard the exchange and got to her feet. “We turned five and ten last month, Aiden!”
From his angry expression, Aiden didn’t care if she’d just turned thirty. Turning back to the poor fool, he said, “Ye will leave her alone, do ye hear me? Else, I will have yer hide splayed on the walls to dry, then I will use it to wipe my horse’s arse. Do I make myself clear?”
Richard could only nod his head rapidly. He was probably afraid to say much else.
Aiden shoved him away, disgusted with even his presence. He then stomped towards Grace. “If ye value that young man’s life, ye will stay the bloody hell away from him. Do ye understand?”
Grace, almost nearly as stubborn as her older brother, placed both hands on her hips. “I am nae a wean, Aiden. Dinnae talk to me like that.”
Margaret pulled her lips inward, rather pleased with how well Grace was handling herself. Were Aiden yelling at her like that, she would have undoubtedly broken down into a heaping pile of tears.
But not Grace.
“Richard is a verra nice young man, Aiden. Ye have even said so yerself.”
A tic began to form in Aiden’s jaw. “That was before I realized he was besotted with ye. Ye are just a child, Grace. Ye are far too young to even be thinkin’ about men.”
“Might I remind ye that yer own mum was but four and ten when she married yer da? And only seven and ten when she gave birth to ye?”
When it came to older brothers protecting their younger sisters, truth and logic had no place. “I dinnae care how old she was. I am yer brother, yer guardian, and yer laird. Stay away from him. I mean it, Grace. Stay the bloody hell away from him.”
Lizabet let out a heavy sigh, slowly got to her feet, and stepped in between her brother and sister. “Now is nae the time to be havin’ this conversation,” she told them in a firm yet even tone.
Each of them looked at her blankly. “Grace, sit back down,” she directed her. To Aiden, she whispered, “If ye keep yellin’ at her like that, ye will do naught more than push her into his arms. I will talk to her. Ye get back to trainin’. And, for the love of God, dinnae kill the poor boy!”
Aiden gave one last angry glare at Grace, a look of warning, before returning to the training fields.
Elayne let out a low whistle. “This is goin’ to get ugly.”
“What do ye mean?” Margaret asked, a hint of worry in her voice.
“Aiden is mad,” she replied. “And when he is mad, the last thing he needs in his hands is his sword.”
A shiver of dread traced up and down Margaret’s spine.
Thankfully, Aiden didn’t kill anyone that afternoon. Although, there might have been a few young men who wished he had.
Margaret watched in amazement as her husband fought one man after another. Aye, he was angry, there wasn’t a doubt about it.
By the time he had knocked his fifth opponent to the ground, he was covered in sweat. Rather angrily, he pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it to the ground.
Sunlight glistened off his broad, well-defined shoulders.
’Twas the first time Margaret had ever seen her husband in a state of near nakedness. For the life of her, she couldn’t stop staring at him. Lord above, the man had muscles on top of muscles. They rippled with each movement.
Lizabet and Elayne took note of the way she was staring at him. “Close yer mouth, Margaret,” Lizabet whispered. “Else, yer husband might think ye like him.”
Elayne giggled loudly at Lizabet’s comment. “Aye,” she said between fits of laughter. “And the last thing any woman wants is for their husband to think they like them.”
Margaret could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Stammering, searching for words, she finally managed to say, “Bah! Dinnae be ridiculous.”
Lizabet joined in with Elayne’s incessant laughter. “Look what happened to me when Emery thought I liked him. ” S he giggled. “I am now the mother of four little beasties.”
Annabella, always Margaret’s defender and champion, came to her rescue. “Stop,” she exclaimed. “Cannae ye see ye are embarrassing her?”
Margaret was beginning to wish a hole would form in the ground so that it could swallow her whole. She knew the women were only jesting, but still, she found it rather irksome.
Elayne was the fist to come to her senses. “Och! Margaret, we only jest.”
Margaret ignored her and chose instead to keep her focus on the little babe in her arms. He’d been sleeping so peacefully and contently.
“I am sorry,” Lizabet added. “Lass, truly, ’tis all right to love yer husband.”
Margaret’s head shot up so fast it was a wonder she didn’t break her own neck. “Who says I love my husband?” she exclaimed rather loudly.
Elayne and Lizabet exchanged knowing glances with one another but remained quiet.
“Margaret, they do mean well,” Annabella said. “’Tis what sisters do, ye ken?”
Nay, she did not ken. Mairie never teased her. Not once. She was a kind sister who wouldn’t have said an unkind word to anyone.
Even if—and that was a very strong if— she had any feelings for Aiden, it wasn’t anyone else’s business but her own. She would be damned to hell for all eternity before she would discuss the matter with anyone.
Aye, she was going to keep her thoughts and feelings concealed and hidden, right along with her secret.
The days were growing longer, a fact Margaret took great enjoyment in. There was a hint of spring that clung to the morning air, brisk and vibrant with the promise of new life.
The hills were filled with fat sheep and even fatter mares. Leaves were just beginning to bud on the trees, and bits of green grass dotted the lands.
Aye, ’twas a most beautiful time of the year.
’Twas the beginning of March now, and Annabella was growing bigger and more uncomfortable by the hour. Thomas fussed and fretted and treated her as if she were made of glass.
Everyone could see he was just as miserable as she.
No matter how George and Emery tried to convince him that his wife would be fine, the man couldn’t rest nor sit still. “If yer goin’ to worry like this now, what will ye be like when her time comes?” George asked him one fine morning whilst they broke their fast.
Thomas kept staring at the staircase, his hands thrust into his pockets as he paced back and forth, ignoring them.
“Should we move her to Aiden’s study, like we did Lizabet?” he asked to no one in particular.
“Ye did nae see me worryin’ and fretting over Lizabet like that,” Emery said. “Stop yer pacin’. Ye are makin’ my head hurt.”
When Thomas saw movement near the top of the stairs, he stopped his pacing at once, fully prepared to go and help his wife.
“Och!” he said with much disappointment. “’Tis only ye.”
’Twas Brodie who had approached, his son right beside him. “I am glad to see ye , brother,” Brodie said sarcastically.
Thomas ignored him and continued with his pacing.
Brodie found no enjoyment in his brother’s misery. He understood all too well the worry a man has when his wife was heavy with child. ’Twas even worse when she was actually giving birth.
“Mayhap ye should go above stairs,” Brodie suggested politely, “and actually help yer wife, instead of worryin’ over her.”
Thomas slapped a hand to his forehead, embarrassed that he hadn’t thought to do that himself. “Och! I am an eejit.”
George laughed aloud. “Aye, ye are,” he called after him. “But we love ye nonetheless.”
Aye, a calm peace had settled inside the Randall keep this cool night in spring. All were abed, sleeping the kind of deep, tranquil sleep that comes with having plenty of food in their larders and some potential new allies.
Aside from the occasional creak of an old keep settling and George Randall’s snoring, ’twas as quiet as quiet could be.
Margaret slept soundly, wrapped protectively in her husband’s strong arms. He, too, slumbered without worry, unbothered by the troubles of his waking hours.
’Twas long after the midnight hour, that time when the sky is as black as pitch and all the world is still, even the forest creatures seeming not to stir. Stars twinkled against the inky-blue sky, while the moon stood as sentry over one and all.
The stillness was soon broken by someone on the wall sounding an alarm. Men shouted as they raced across the top of the wall, torches in hand. The order was given to open the gates, as three of their border guards came racing across the glen on horseback, hell bent for leather.
“We are under attack,” one of the men called out. “Call for arms! Call for arms!”
Aiden awoke to the sound of bells clanging and horns blaring. Margaret woke only a moment later, startled and confused. “What is happening?” she asked as she tossed the blankets aside.
“We are under attack,” Aiden told her as he pulled on his trews. “Go to Lizabet at once!”
With his boots and tunic in one hand and his sword belt in the other, he was out of the bedchamber a moment later.
Barefooted, he raced down the hallway, banging on doors as he went. “We are under attack!” he shouted.
Emery met him at the end of the hallway, his hair still mussed and in a similar state of undress as Aiden. George and Thomas were coming from the opposite direction.
“What the bloody hell is happening?” George shouted.
“We are apparently under attack,” Aiden told him, pausing long enough to don his tunic.
“By whom?” Emery asked.
“I dinnae ken yet,” Aiden replied. “Have the women and children taken to the men’s solar,” he ordered. “I will meet ye at the walls.”
Brodie was completely dressed and armed to the teeth before Aiden’s foot hit the first stair. “Aiden!” he shouted. “Do we ken what has happened yet?”
Aiden continued his descent down the stairs as he answered, “Nae yet. Help get the women and children into the men’s solar.”
Brodie gave a quick nod and turned around to do as his brother asked.
This wasn’t the first time they had been under attack. Everyone within the keep knew their roles and duties at times like this. Everyone, save for Margaret. As soon as she was dressed, she headed down the hallway for Lizabet’s chamber. Elayne was already in the hallway with her children.
“What is happening?” Margaret asked worriedly.
“Those horns ye hear,” Elayne said as she handed Magnus off to her, “they mean we are under attack.” She headed back into her chamber to retrieve Fergus. Collin and Ian were barely awake, struggling to get their boots on.
“Hurry, boys,” she told them as she lifted Fergus into her arms. “We must get to the men’s solar.”
By the time she returned to the hallway, Lizabet was out of her chamber. “I need help!” she called out to anyone within ear shot. “I cannae carry all my babes.”
Brodie then appeared, seemingly from out of the ether. “I will take Meredith,” he told her, his arms outstretched.
It seemed an eternity had passed before they were all safely ensconced inside the men’s solar. Duncan and Symon were already awake and dressed, awaiting the arrival of the women and children.
Margaret didn’t know what she should or shouldn’t be doing. Worried, she stood in front of the door, holding Magnus tightly in her arms.
Someone in the hallway tried to fling open the door, but Margaret was blocking it. “Let us in!” Flossie shouted from the other side.
Soon, the room was filled near to bursting with all the Randall women and children, along with Flossie and her scullery maids.
Everyone was talking all at once. Although Magnus slept peacefully in her arms, Margaret nervously bounced him up and down.
Brodie called for quiet, and the room fell silent.
“Nae, I dinnae ken who has attacked us,” he told them. “I dinnae ken what has happened. But ye all ken what to do, aye?”
Whilst everyone else nodded and answered, “Aye," Margaret felt lost. “I dinnae ken what to do,” she whispered. “I have never been under attack before.”
Brodie came to her at once and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. “This room is in the middle of the keep, Margaret. Women and children come here for safety until we receive word otherwise.”
A tremendous sense of dread fell over her. “How can the middle of the keep be the safest?” Images of the keep being set afire played in her mind. Glancing around the room, she realized there was only one way in and one way out.
“We are doomed,” she murmured weakly.
Brodie chuckled, “Margaret, dinnae be afraid. Trust me, aye?”
Trust ye? How could she trust anyone, when they’d all been herded into this room like sheep to slaughter? Panic began to settle in. “We are in a coffin of our own making,” she muttered.
“Nay,” Brodie replied. “Do ye really believe we would come to a room with no way out?”
A flicker of hope lit in her heart. “There is more than one way in and out?” she asked with a most hopeful tone.
“Aye, lass,” Brodie answered, smiling warmly at her. “So, please, dinnae fret.” He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “Remember, ye are chatelaine. Yer people need to see ye strong.”
Margaret felt like weeping. She knew Brodie meant well. Even though she knew he was right, she truly had no desire to be the chatelaine. That desire had faded weeks and weeks ago.
It seemed funny now, when she thought of all the things her mother had tried to teach her about being a chatelaine. Not once, in all those ugly lectures, had Helen mentioned compassion or kindness. She also never mentioned what a chatelaine was supposed to do if their keep ever came under attack.
Funnier still was the fact that her mother never truly told her what duties a lady of the keep should have. ’Twas always about how she should treat others and how they should treat her, simply due to her station in life.
Clarity dawned brilliantly in that quiet moment.
Oh, she supposed she had known it all along, but she hadn't had the courage to admit it: Her mother had no earthly idea how a chatelaine was to behave.
It took some time to settle the bairns and weans down. Hugh, Symon, and Duncan, however, refused to go back to sleep. “We must protect ye, lady Margaret, and the women and children,” Duncan explained firmly.
’Twas difficult not to chuckle at the intensity in which these three little boys believed what they spoke. Each of them possessed a true highland warriors spirit. When she thought on it longer, she felt like weeping again. These three little boys would do whatever necessary to keep the women and the other children safe.
More than an hour had passed before Emery came to them. One look, and each woman knew that the news was bad.
He pulled Margaret, Elayne, Lizabet, Annabella, and Brodie into the hallway. He didn’t wish for the children to overhear what he was about to say.
“A few hours ago, the MacKinnons, Duffies, and MacLeans attacked us at our borders,” he said in a low and somber tone. “The MacKinnons to our north, the Duffies and MacLeans to our west and south. Only seven of our men survived.”
Margaret felt as though her heart had fallen to her feet. “How many were lost?” she somehow managed to ask.
“Fifteen,” he said through gritted teeth. He cleared his throat before going on. “They are all now encamped just inside our borders. Aiden has sent word to the MacCallens for reinforcements. We are moving everyone from their cottages and homes into the center courtyard for safety.”
That didn’t sit well with Margaret. “Nay,” she told him. “Bring them into the keep.”
“We dinnae have the room, Margaret,” Emery told her.
“Then just the women and children and elderly.”
He shook his head. “Margaret, I dinnae think ye understand how many there are.”
“I dinnae care if there are a thousand,” she told him sternly. “I cannae stay inside the safety of this keep while women and children and the elderly and infirm are forced to stay in the courtyard, without shelter.”
Thankfully, Annabella and Lizabet agreed. “We can put them in the gathering room,” Annabella said.
“The dungeons are also empty,” Lizabet offered. “Of course, we will nae lock them away.” She quickly added.
“There is also the granary,” Elayne said.
Margaret could have wept with joy knowing that her sisters-by-law supported her decision. “Anywhere but the courtyard,” she told Emery.
“What about the wounded?” he asked, frustrated.
She hadn’t a good answer for that.
Lizabet, however, knew exactly what they should do. “We will bring the wounded to the gathering room. All other rooms, the granary, the dungeons, those will be used to house our people.”
Realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere by arguing, Emery finally relented. “Verra well,” he said. “But ye will allow my wife to rest. I will nae do anythin’ else until I have yer word on that.”
“That goes without askin’,” Margaret said.
“I am nae askin’,” Emery said. “I am tellin’. She is nae to lift a finger. Is that understood?”
“Really, Emery, I will be fine,” Annabella told him.
“I ken ye will. Even if it means I have to lock ye in our chamber.”
“We will keep yer wife safe,” Brodie told him. “Ye have my word.”
Pleased with Brodie’s promise, Emery thanked him. “I must return to Aiden,” he told them. “We will send word as often as we can. But, ladies, ye must understand that we are at war.”
They were at war.
Even thinking those words made Margaret want to retch. She was in the gathering room now, helping to prepare for any wounded that might come in.
She couldn’t fathom the why’s of war. Why men thought the only way to settle any matter was by trying to kill each other.
It dawned on her that she had no idea at all as to why the MacKinnons, Duffies, and MacLeans had attacked. Did they want Randall lands and holdings? Was that the only reason they fought?
There was no way out of it. Aiden had to respond to the late-night attacks. If he didn’t, he might as well just open the gates and let their enemies in.
Dawn was fast approaching as the keep was bustling with people preparing for what would come next. She was glad that the children were above stairs, sleeping peacefully, unaware of what was happening in the world around them.
“Do we have enough bandages?” she asked one of the scullery maids.
“More are coming, m’lady,” she said as she placed pitchers of water and clean basins on a table.
“Where is the healer?” she asked.
“Tendin’ to the wounded at the borders, I suspect, m’lady.”
It hit her then that she and her sisters-by-law would be responsible for anyone brought to them. She sent a silent prayer heavenward that the fighting would stop before it even started. She had no real training in the art of healing and didn’t want to learn this way.
“Margaret, Flossie says to tell ye that she will keep the water boilin’, should we need it.” It was either Grace or Faith speaking to her now. It was still impossible for her to tell the two young women apart. “Thank ye, Grace,” she said with a nod.
“I am Faith,” the young girl replied with a wan smile.
“I am so sorry!”
“Dinnae fash over it,” she replied as she placed a bundle of blankets on a table. “Even Aiden has trouble sometimes, tellin’ the two of us apart.”
It was almost painful to hear his name. Her heart would fill with dread at thinking of what could happen.
She did a lot of praying that morn. Praying for the safety of her people. But, mostly, she prayed for Aiden’s safe return. I cannae live without him, Lord.