Chapter 5
It would be a lie to say that the young ladies at MacNair Castle were not interested to hear that three blacksmiths had accepted Lady Meria’s challenge and were even now riding to the bailey.
“Och! I’m so excited, I could swoon, Ailsa.” Mary, one of the castle’s newest scullery maids, was fanning herself by the cast iron stove. “I have only ever met clan an’ folks from our village! Imagine what it must be like to see men who are not from round these parts!”
Ailsa, who, as the housekeeper, was very busy organizing accommodations for the three men, did not want to squash Mary’s excitement, but nor did she want the maid to be disappointed when three grizzled old men trotted up the hill on ponies.
“I wish they could stay at the castle for yer sake, Mary, but the visitors must live in the village and use the smithy there. Lady Meria does nae want anything to ruin her surprise.”
Mary was not listening to her. She was already chattering to two other girls about their prospects with the three strangers.
It was inconceivable to anyone who had never traveled further than the firth to the south that Highlanders from further afield could be anything other than fascinating creatures.
“D’ye think we will be able to understand them?” one of the maids turned to ask Ailsa.
They looked up to the young woman. At the age of almost two and twenty, Ailsa was a good five years older than any of them, added to the fact that the housekeeper had spent eight years living in Inverness gave her a certain air of sophistication.
They did not have access to Lady Meria, not that it mattered to the maids after they found out that her ladyship had never visited a large town either.
Ailsa suppressed a groan of frustration. She knew full well that every young lass over the age of ten and three years old would most probably be dreaming about a tall, handsome blacksmith galloping into the village bailey, ready to sweep them off their feet.
“Gather round, lasses,” Ailsa said, spreading out her arms to shepherd the girls into a circle. They looked excited. Ailsa was going to tell them about the types of men who lived far away. When they were all settled and looking at her with bated breath, Ailsa began.
“I want to tell ye about what the books say about blacksmiths, an’ then ye are sure to have nay surprises when ye lay eyes on yon gentlemen. Right?”
There were murmurs of agreement.
“Good.” Ailsa said. “A civilization, living many hundreds o’ years before our sweet Highlands ever existed, believed in many gods livin’ in the heavens above us, all o’ them atop a mountain.
There was the laird Zeus and his chieftains and chiefs and their lady wives too.
One o’ the chieftain gods was not so fortunate, however.
He was born uglier than the rest o’ the gods, so his mither threw him down the mountainside because she did nae want an ugly bairn.
He was named Vulcan, but bein’ a god, of course, he did nae die from the fall.
Instead, he limped because his foot was hurt when he was thrown down.
He did nae want to go back up the mountain to live with the other gods because he was ugly an’ all, so Laird Zeus allowed him to go an’ live at the bottom of a fire mountain… an’ guess what he became?”
Silence, then: “A…blacksmith?”
Ailsa nodded and clapped her hands together.
“Aye! A blacksmith. He was all squat an’ ill-favored.
What with his game leg, what else could he do but labor by the anvil all day using the mountain’s fire to make things?
But that’s no’ all of the tale. He was the son o’ gods, after all, so his faither bade the most beautiful goddess in the heavens to marry him: Lady Venus and Laird Vulcan.
But the sad thing is this… Instead o’ being all humble an’ refusing the beauty as a bride, the chieftain Vulcan was very happy to take the beautiful lady as a wife!
So the poor goddess had to make do with an ugly auld blacksmith as a husband forever an’ ever! ”
The maids all shrieked.
“I’ll no’ have an ugly auld blacksmith for a husband, thank ye very much!” Mary said in emphatic tones. “He can stay away!”
Ailsa hid her smile. “Aye, Mary, how wise o’ ye. What d’ye think a man who slaves all over a hot fire all day must look like? I promise ye all three blacksmiths will take after their name, dirty all over and with a hunch from stooping over the anvil all day!”
The maids hurried off to tell their friends the news, and Ailsa went to check on how things were going at the tannery.
She found Tam and Oona taking the imminent arrival of the travelers in their stride.
“Only three men accepted, which means they must be the least-busy blacksmiths in the Highlands! How silly of Lady Meria to think that a blacksmith can just abandon his work and allow his fires to burn out for some stupid test,” Tam said.
Oona agreed in her calm way. “They might be skilled masters, Tam. They might have felt it safe to leave the forge in their apprentice’s hands. The prize money is a tempting offer, no’ so?”
“I’m sure I will be happy when the event is over,” Ailsa added to the conversation.
“I am running out of villagers who are in the position to offer the men accommodation. All of the best places: the baker, the butcher, the chandler; they all want to see what the strangers look like before opening their doors to them.”
“Why is that?” Tam asked, but Oona poked him in the ribs.
“Ye bampot! It’s because our merchants have bonny daughters! They cannae offer the men a bed when there’s the chance yon blacksmith prove to be too handsome to withstand.”
Tam grinned. “Och, then send them to seek their sleep in the kirk.”
Ailsa shook her head. “Nay, Uncle. They have to stay hidden! We all ken that Laird MacNair goes to the kirk now an’ then outside o’ Sunday service.
The men have to live close enough to the smithy so they don’ have too far to walk from one door to the other, in a place with nay daughters—or young wives—an’ comfortable enough for the men no’ to feel insulted by the accommodation.
Sometimes I feel as if I am walking on a tightened rope like I once saw the traveling acrobats doing down at the Inverness Fair! ”
“What about yer mither?” Oona asked. She would have offered to provide the men with a bed, but the smell from the tannery took a lot of getting used to. “Gudrun’s cottage is perfect, an’ Laird MacNair would never go visitin’ there.”
That suggestion sent Ailsa to visit her mother, which she was on her way to doing anyway. She pushed the door open after Gudrun bade her come in. When she saw her daughter, the spinner put down her bobbin and held out her arms for a hug.
“Why d’ye knock, me darlin’ lass?” she asked. “Ye ken that I am always here an’ always happy to see ye.”
Ailsa poured herself a mug of small ale from the small kitchen in the corner of the room and looked around the cottage with a critical eye while she drank it down.
“Mither, I am here for two reasons: I need a space for a man to sleep, an’ this wee croft o’ yers fits my instructions perfectly!” She proceeded to explain to the spinner what a problem she was having finding appropriate sleeping arrangements for the blacksmiths.
Gudrun, who stayed informed about all the news going on at the castle, nodded. “Aye, I agree with yer thinkin’, Daughter, but what if yonder blacksmiths figure on staying outside o’ the bailey? Making camp somewhere nicer?”
“They must stay hidden somewhere cozy, close enough to the smithy to be able to come an’ go without bumpin’ into Laird MacNair. Laird Callum might have something to say if he rode past three tents that happened to spring up overnight in the woods beside his castle, don’ ye ken?”
The two women laughed at the thought. “Very well, Daughter,” Gudrun said. “But promise me if the man snores fit to raise me roof or does nae empty his own night soil bucket, that ye’ll find him somewhere else to stay?”
Ailsa reassured her mother that the blacksmith would in all likelihood make use of the privies at the smithy.
“For they are sure to be workin’ all day an’ most of the night, Mither.
Lady Meria will be judging the best sword the day before the Midsummer’s feast. That leaves them barely three days to prepare. ”
Neither lady knew much about the art of blacksmithing, but from the carts of logs and metal that had been arriving at the village for the last five days, it did not look to be a walk in the meadows.
Lady Meria had ordered the villagers to stay away and not line the streets when the blacksmiths began arriving.
The first man rode up the hill, down the bailey thoroughfare, accompanied by the messenger.
He was taken to the baker’s cottage and made comfortable and welcome there.
The reason for his warm welcome at the baker’s home, where he had five daughters, was easy to see at a glance.
The first blacksmith to arrive was short, portly, and cheerfully red in the face.
His little pony was also slightly rotund, like its master.
Mary, who had been hiding behind the stables, turned to her friend. “Ugh! He’s even worse than that Vulcan blacksmith god.”
Her friend agreed.
“Poor Elisa an’ Kate, the baker’s daughters… They will feel as though someone has pulled their hearts out with a meathook when they lay eyes on him!” It was a gruesome exaggeration to which Mary strongly agreed.
The next blacksmith arrived three bell tolls later, by which time Mary had given up her post at the stables, too disappointed by the first man’s appearance.
Her friend, Elayne, called her to the tower gate with an enthusiastic coo-ee. “Make haste, oh ye of little faith! This one is braw an’ young!”
The two girls ran down the hill toward the new arrival, no longer caring about Lady Meria’s orders to act nonchalant if they saw the visitors coming up the hill.
Their impulsive behavior was well rewarded.
The blacksmith was young, barely out of his apprenticeship it seemed, and handsome.
His bonnet could not hide the shock of fair hair, and his plaid trews promised a goodly amount of muscle under it.
His face was not only friendly but approachable.
Mary fanned herself, telling Elayne she was about to swoon. Her friend ignored this.
The young man disappeared into the chandler’s home, only for him to emerge a few moments later with an apologetic chandler pushing him out the door. “Sorry lad, but I have two daughters, ye ken.”
The messenger promptly told the young man to stand behind the wall of the chandlery while he ran up to the castle. He came back down with Ailsa in tow. She bobbed a curtsy to the young blacksmith and asked him to follow her.
The two maids heard the housekeeper saying, “Ye will find there is a good degree of comfort to be had at me mither’s cottage, sir. Let’s hope the last blacksmith to arrive is less blessed with good looks, or else I fear ye will be forced to share yer accommodation with him.”
The young blond man was not upset. He bowed and allowed Ailsa to go ahead of him through the door as he said, “I can always sleep in a hayloft. It’s been bonny weather this summer, do ye no’ agree, Miss Ailsa?”
Mary wrinkled her nose when the door had closed behind the housekeeper and her guest. “What do men see in Ailsa Gun Ainm? She’s plain…an’ just plain boring!”
Elayne was tempted to agree, but she was an honest girl who did not plan on having something to hide the next time she said her prayers in kirk.
“I cannae see anything out o’ the ordinary in her meself, Mary.
She’s no’ elegant pretty like Lady Meria.
But I have heard men speak about Ailsa after she has walked by, and they find her very sweet.
It must be something to do with that calm way she has of doing things, the way she never raises her voice and never gets angry.
She’s douce an’ comports herself with dignity, without bein’ bland.
An’ dinnae be forgettin’ that nice education her mither arranged for her to have down in Inverness.
There’s something to be said for a lass who can read.
The soldiers call her the white lady because she is pure an’ sweet. ”
Mary scowled. “Aye. White lady. Her eyes, her hair, an’ her skin hae this strange color!”
Elayne confessed that she had never seen any lass with such silver-colored eyes before. “They are such a light gray, many folks think she is half-faerie folk.”
Mary was disgruntled that it was Ailsa who got to show the second blacksmith his bed. All Elayne could think of to cheer up her friend was to tell her to work hard so that she might become the housekeeper when Miss Ailsa went off to get married.