Chapter 23
The First New Beginning
Eight days after Diana chose to stay, Alistair waited for her beneath what remained of the old hall's roof.
The men had removed the charred beams and sheltered a section along the north wall with new timber and heavy canvas. The covering would not withstand a hard storm, but it kept out the wind and the fine snow that had begun before dawn.
The women of the clan had done the rest. Eliza had helped them clear the floor and cover the darkest stones with ivy, heather, and small winter flowers found in the protected parts of the valley.
Candles occupied old iron brackets, niches in the walls, and pottery vessels recovered from the kitchen.
Some were new; others had been gathered from families at the shelter.
At the center of the hall, a fire burned within a circle of stones. The flames gave little warmth beneath the open roof, but they cast light over faces and sent shadows moving across the walls that still stood.
Benches of different sizes filled the cleared floor. Some had come from the shelter; others were planks balanced on stones. Green branches concealed the worst of the burned sections, and small sprigs had been tied to the ends of the benches with strips of cloth.
The castle remained unfit for habitation. Ropes still surrounded the west tower, the well was only partly uncovered, and three walls needed bracing. No family would sleep there that night.
Even so, the hall was full.
Alistair recognized people who, weeks earlier, had been scattered among barns, chapels, and abandoned houses.
Moira MacNair sat near the entrance with her grandson beside her.
Màiri rested on her mother's lap and breathed without effort.
Men Diana had stitched or bandaged had come leaning on sticks, other arms, and a determination Iain considered unwise.
Iain stood near the old hearth, his hair tied at the nape and earth marking his boots. A sprig of thyme from Alistair's mother's garden stuck out of his pocket.
"What is that for?" Alistair had asked him before the ceremony.
"Today? To keep Dugald from stepping on it."
Dugald had heard and moved aside without comment.
Graeme waited to Alistair's right, wearing a clean léine and the best plaid he had managed to recover. One edge had been mended with wool of a darker shade. Eliza had done the repair and spent the entire morning insisting no one would notice.
"You've been staring at the entrance for ten minutes," Graeme said.
"Diana will come through it."
"We all understand the purpose of an entrance."
Alistair looked at him.
Graeme adjusted his plaid.
"Eliza sent word that the bride was ready."
"How long ago?"
"She didn't say. Perhaps she considers it useful to teach the laird patience."
"Eliza considers many things useful when they happen to someone else."
"On that we agree."
The conversation ended when Diana appeared beneath the arch.
Her gown was ivory wool, fitted by the women of the clan from two recovered garments and a length of cloth bought in Inverness. There was no silk, embroidery, or jewelry beyond her father's medallion at her throat.
Her brown hair fell loose over her shoulders and down her back. Small sprigs of heather had been tucked among a few strands, leaving the scar near her collarbone visible.
Diana walked beneath the old archway to the sound of the pipes.
The melody began low and solemn, held by a single piper near the north wall. The hall no longer had enough roof to contain the notes. Some disappeared into the wind; the rest settled over the stones and the fire at the center.
The clan rose.
Eliza walked beside her sister in dark green, her red hair held back with a simple ribbon. Happiness showed openly in her face. She smiled at Diana and, from time to time, had to blink quickly to keep back tears.
Alistair realized his hand had closed and made his fingers relax.
Diana passed between the benches without lowering her eyes. She greeted Moira, touched Màiri's hair, and stopped when the man who had taken the ball in his shoulder offered her his uninjured arm.
"Fraser," he said.
Diana accepted his support.
Other voices repeated the name as she moved forward.
"Fraser."
There was no suspicion in the word. Only recognition.
The man accompanied her to the ring of stones around the fire, then released her arm so Diana could take the last steps alone.
Alistair waited in a clean léine, the cords tied at the throat, with the black-and-gray MacLeod plaid fastened at his shoulder. The silver brooch had been recovered from the rubble and cleaned that morning.
Diana stopped before him.
"You are pale," she murmured.
"I'm waiting to be married."
Her eyes moved to his side.
"Your bandage?"
"Clean."
"I will check it later."
"I expected you to say that."
Graeme made a low sound to Alistair's right.
"The entire clan can hear you."
Diana looked at him.
"Then the entire clan will know the laird remains under observation."
Eliza took her place beside her sister.
"I did my best to keep her from examining the stitches during the procession."
"You didn't try hard enough," Graeme said.
"I rarely make much effort to prevent good ideas."
Dugald walked toward the fire carrying a braided cord the women of the clan had made from dark wool and ivory-colored threads.
The murmuring stopped.
Dugald raised the cord before the clan.
"Alistair MacLeod and Diana Fraser have come before this fire and before their people by their own choice. Let everyone here bear witness to the words they give one another."
The fire cracked in the silence.
No one moved.
"Stone keeps what time does not take. Fire reveals what can endure. Speak now the words by which you wish to be remembered."
Alistair turned fully toward Diana.
"Diana Fraser, before this fire and the stones that have sheltered my people, I give you my word."
His fingers closed around hers.
"As long as the mountains guard this valley and the water keeps finding its way through the rocks, there will be a place for you beside me. When winter falls over this house, I will share its shelter with you. When the land flowers again, I will share with you everything we are able to rebuild."
Alistair's voice carried through the open hall.
"Your name will be honored among the MacLeods. Your voice will carry the same weight as mine in every choice that belongs to the two of us. I choose you without debt, without obligation, and without asking you to leave behind the woman who found her way back to me."
He brought her hand to his chest.
"Before my clan and those who walked these lands before us, I give you my loyalty for every day granted to me."
The fire shifted between the stones.
Diana studied his face for several moments before she answered.
"Alistair MacLeod, before the same fire and beneath the sky that covers these lands, I give you my word."
Her hand tightened around his.
"I will remain beside you when the wind strikes these walls and when the sun returns to warm their stones. I will care for your people as I would care for my own blood. I will keep your trust and tell you the truth even when it is difficult to receive."
A brief smile touched Alistair's mouth.
Diana continued.
"I bring with me the Fraser name, my father's lessons, and everything I learned while I was away from these mountains. I give you my heart by choice, with neither the river nor any debt holding power over this decision."
She placed her other hand over his.
"I join my path to yours for as long as there is road ahead of us. And when the road ends, may the earth of these Highlands keep our names together."
When Diana's last words disappeared among the stones, Graeme and Eliza stepped forward.
Graeme took one end of the cord for the MacLeods. Eliza took the other for the Frasers.
Dugald brought the couple's hands together above the fire and began winding the braided wool around them.
"One turn for the choice made today."
He made the second.
"One for the name and people each of you brings."
The third turn bound the first two together.
"And one for the path you will walk together, with neither walking behind the other."
He handed the ends to Eliza and Graeme.
They pulled the cord in opposite directions, forming the knot over the couple's hands.
"Too tight," Graeme said.
"Are you afraid his stitches are in his hands as well?" Eliza asked.
"I'm afraid you tied the knot."
"Then you should have learned first."
Alistair ignored them both.
Dugald laid a hand over the cord.
"Before those who live, those who came before us, and the stones that have preserved this name, the clan has heard your promise."
Moira rose in the first row.
"May God's blessing be upon you!"
The words were taken up around her.
"May God's blessing be upon you!"
The cord was removed, but the knot remained intact. Eliza kept it to give Diana later.
Iain approached carrying a small wooden cup with two handles. Age had darkened the wood, but the pattern carved around the rim was still visible.
"It belonged to Alistair's mother," he said.
He filled it with whisky and handed it to them.
Alistair held one handle. Diana took the other.
"Drink from the same cup," Dugald said. "Let neither offer the other what they are unwilling to receive."
Alistair drank first and passed the cup toward Diana without releasing it.
She tasted the whisky and suppressed a cough.
"Strong," she murmured.
"It was my mother's."
"That explains several things."
"Which things?"
"We will discuss them later."
Diana drank again and returned the cup to Iain.
Graeme then handed Alistair a simple silver ring. The clan's smith had shaped it from a buckle found among the remains of the hall. Small marks still scarred the metal that had survived the fire.
Alistair slid the ring onto Diana's finger.
"The fire did not destroy it."
She ran her thumb over the uneven surface.
"Then it begins with sufficient experience for this family."
Alistair lifted a hand to her face.
Diana caught the edge of the plaid at his chest and pulled him closer.