Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Kenneth woke with a pounding in his head that felt like a woodpecker trapped in his brain.
The night had passed with little sleep. His thoughts – a constant struggle to find answers that might satisfy the king – had taken him in endless circles.
What would satisfy a command that he had little hope of obeying?
After he’d splashed himself with enough icy water to wake him fully, he dragged on his kilt, stockings, shirt, boots and jacket. He smoothed his hair as best he could and made his way to the dining hall to take some nourishment before meeting with his Council.
Callum was the only other early morning riser. He greeted Kenneth with a raised brow. “Ye look tae me like a lad who’s nae had a good night’s sleep.” He grinned. “And I dinnae mean that in a good way, lad.”
Kenneth managed to return the grin and nodded. “Ye’re right. I was awake during the long hours of darkness after reading this.” He took the folded letter from his jacket pocket and passed it to Callum.
He waited while Callum perused the missive, watching his friend’s face. His expression altered as he read. His lips tightened, his jaw flexed, his brows drew close in a frown. He shook his head more than once.
“Well?” Kenneth said as Callum folded the paper and placed it on the table between them.
“What is there tae say. It’s clear King George is lusting after more Highland land. He’s long had his eye on the islands tae give favor tae the English lords who dae his bidding. Now, it seems, he’s struck on a plan tae confiscate nae only MacLeay lands but MacDonald lands as well.”
Kenneth nodded grimly. “Aye. It has bedeviled me all night. I cannae imagine a way Aidan would agree tae a truce. One that would satisfy our King George, that is. I ken any so-called truce Aidan might agree tae would be naught but an excuse tae enter our castle and put us all tae the sword while we slept.”
He downed another mouthful of porridge. “Come, let us retreat tae the meeting hall tae welcome our council members.”
Callum was already on his feet as Kenneth collected the folded missive from the king and placed it in his pocket.
Save for one or two late stragglers, the council members were already assembled in the meeting hall by the time Callum and Kenneth strolled in.
The men stood as Kenneth took his seat at the head of the table and bade them sit.
This was a meeting he dreaded. The problem of the king’s command had robbed him of a good night’s sleep and he did not anticipate the Council would be anything but aggrieved at receiving such a message.
Still, he managed a grin as he looked around the array of familiar faces – some lined and weary, some bearded, others clean-shaven and fresh faced, all of them keen to deal with matters of importance to Clan MacDonald.
He began by going around the table and greeting each of the men in turn and enquiring after their families, their farms, their livestock. All of these were important – not only to their laird, but to all the Clan.
After all, what was the clan if not a big, extended family that dwelt on the lands they shared, acknowledging their laird as leader.
Once he’d paid his respects to each and every one of them, he could sense their eagerness to get on with it.
He was about to begin when several scullery maids came in carrying platters of oatbread and cheese. These were placed on the table alongside large ewers of ale.
The faces of the gathering lit up as men reached for the comfort of food washed down with a tankard of ale. It was snowing heavily by then and some had travelled quite a distance. Now they had warmed themselves by the roaring fire in the hearth and were happy to be filling their bellies.
He nodded, looking around, gauging who among them might cause trouble.
His uncle, Duncan MacDonald was not averse to speaking his mind and making his presence felt with a fist on the table whenever he considered it necessary.
Apart from him, there were one or two troublemakers among the younger men, although they usually came into line after being satisfied they’d made their point and been heard.
After taking a deep breath, he began.
“I am planning tae wed.”
His words were first greeted by a hushed silence, then moments later a grumbling and muttering until, finally, Duncan spoke up.
“Och, lad. This is sudden indeed. Who is the lass ye wish tae marry? We’ve heard naething of whose clan ye might be preparing tae align us with.” His voice was charged with tension, bordering on indignation.
This reaction was exactly what Kenneth had been expecting. To consider marriage without consulting the Council first was not the way things were usually done.
Hands at his side, he resisted the impulse to curl them into fists. He was prepared for a fight.
“I will wed the Lady Selene Montgomery who has been a guest at Duntulm these past weeks.” He waited, expecting a torrent of words. Instead, it was only Duncan who spoke up.
“Lad, are ye being headstrong?”
Several heads nodded their agreement to Duncan’s oblique criticism.
“The Lady is sister-in-law tae Laird Halvard MacLeod. This marriage will align us with Clan MacLeod of Raasay,” he said, hoping this would at least quieten some of their opposition.
The long history between the MacDonald’s and their neighbors the MacLeods of Dunvegan on the Isle of Skye was filled with conflict.
An alliance with Raasay would go some way to easing the hostility between them.
Duncan huffed and folded his arms nodding thoughtfully. “Aye. There is sense in that. Yet,” he paused and looked around the table, “yer intended bride is English.”
This caused another discontented rumble among the Council. Red-fox Fergus spoke up. “Would nae an English wife be an advantage in these days of trouble with King George?”
Kenneth raised a hand. “Before we continue, there is another, pressing matter at hand.”
He waited until all had turned their eyes to him and the gathering had grown silent again.
“I wish tae read a letter received only last night from King George.” He spread the paper on the table and read it, emphasizing the word “truce.”
“As ye all ken, Aidan MacLeay has been a thorn in our side fer years as he wrongly seeks vengeance fer the loss of Eilidh Fraser’s life. Of late, his assaults have become more frequent and more dangerous.”
Alisdair MacDonald, one of Kenneth’s bold young captains leaped to his feet. “The man’s a menace and he will attack again once he has the chance.” He turned his gaze around the assembly. “And what then? When we fight back, the king deems us tae be outlaws and takes our land.”
There were furious grunts and heads shaking around the table.
“And what of yer lady?” Old Duncan asked. “Will she be on our side, the outlaws, or will her loyalty be with King George.” Meeting Kenneth’s gaze, he beetled his not inconsiderable brows. Clearly, the suspicion that Selene was an English spy had not completely died.
Kenneth gave an emphatic shake of his head and his heart was full as he responded. “Me lady will never falter in her loyalty tae us. She may have been born English, but she is on our side, with Scotland now.” He paused.
Alisdair, still on his feet, spoke again. “I say we send a contingent tae MacLeay, asking him tae come tae Duntulm tae discuss the letter. There may yet be hope he willnae wish tae risk confiscation of his lands.”
“I agree with that plan,” Duncan said. “He may be filled with hatred yet he’s canny enough tae ken he may lose everything if he daesnae agree tae a truce.”
Kenneth nodded, even though in the depths of his heart he knew Aidan would risk everything he had in his relentless search fer vengeance.
A vote was taken and all agreed with Alisdair’s suggestion.
“Very well,” Kenneth nodded his agreement. “On the morrow I shall dispatch a contingent tae seek out Aidan and press him tae a meeting.”
“And good wishes tae ye and yer lady, Laird Kenneth. I think I speak fer us all.”
A cheer went up around the table.
“There’s tae be a feast this night tae celebrate me betrothal tae the Lady Selene Montgomery and all of ye and yer ladies are invited. I look forward tae yer company.”
With that, he marched out of the meeting hall, Callum at his heels.
“Meet with Captain Alisdair tae prepare a contingent of ten of our best lads tae meet with Laird MacLeay and request the pleasure of his company tae discuss the king’s letter.”
Callum nodded. “Aye. Nay doubt Aidan has already received a similar letter. He might even be ready fer a parley.” He peeled off in the direction of the courtyard as Kenneth went in search of Selene.
“I’ll meet ye soon enough at the barracks,” he called after Callum.