Chapter 15

F or much of Sunday afternoon, in momentary expectation of an irate summons to present himself again, Ian carefully considered each of the arguments he might use to persuade Colquhoun that the plan could work. He tried to imagine which of them was most likely to do so without first infuriating him.

As a result, when Rob and Alex insisted that he accompany them to the yard shortly before supper, Ian was astonished to find Douglas and Buccleuch on the point of departure with all the men who had accompanied them to Dunglass.

“Are you leaving us, my lord?” Ian asked when Douglas smiled at him.

“Aye, lad, for the nonce. Your father tells us that his talks with James Mòr will likely take a fortnight or longer, and we canna leave our men camped outside Glasgow that long without upsetting its citizens. Nor can we bring our men here without James Mòr’s getting wind of it. But Jamie is moving from Cambuskenneth to Paisley Abbey, none so far from here across the river Clyde. We’ll join him there tomorrow or the next day and wait to hear from ye. If ye come up with a way to take the castle afore Jamie makes other plans, ye’ve only to get word to us there.”

Douglas mounted, and Ian turned to find the wiry Buccleuch approaching.

“Douglas told ye we’re leaving, aye?” he said as Douglas turned his horse away. When Ian nodded, Buccleuch added with a grin, “I ken fine that ye hold Jamie’s warrant, man, and I’ll wager that ye’re aware that the news doesna cheer Douglas. He’ll try tae persuade Jamie tae entrust him wi’ taking back yon castle.”

“If he finds a way to do it, he’ll have my support,” Ian said. When Buccleuch raised his eyebrows in disbelief, he added, “If I haven’t taken it myself by then.”

Buccleuch was still laughing when Colquhoun joined them.

Bidding the two powerful Border lords farewell and Godspeed, Colquhoun stood with Ian, Rob, and Alex and watched them depart.

When they’d passed through the gates and the gates had swung shut behind them, Ian turned to his father and said, “You never cease to surprise me, sir.”

Colquhoun said, “I had to leave you earlier because two of Buccleuch’s men had got into a fight with two of ours. Buccleuch had it sorted before I got there, but I realized then that the Borderers would be of little use to us for some time yet.”

“I ken fine that you don’t have much faith in my deer hunt,” Ian said. “But you know as well as I do that Dumbarton—like Stirling—requires only the men manning its gates and its north hoarding to hold the castle against any army.”

“But for how long can they do that before they run out of food and water?”

“I don’t know,” Ian admitted. “But I do know that many more local people will be injured or killed if any army occupies the area around Dumbarton Rock.”

“We could not have taken Buccleuch or Douglas on the deer hunt,” Alex said. When Ian grimaced, he added defensively, “James Mòr knows them both! He might believe Douglas had switched sides again, but the Scotts have been Jamie’s all along.”

“Both men will be good to have with us later, though,” Ian said. “If my plan succeeds, we can fly Colquhoun banners from the ramparts to signal them. Jamie will be at Paisley, too, near enough to send the Borderers and others, come to that.”

Colquhoun clapped him on the back. “I’m thinking that ye may have summat in your brainbox besides air, lad. Why don’t ye all come inside now with me, and we’ll have supper. Then we can discuss your plan with Galbraith and the others.”

The evening seemed long to Lina, but at last she retired to her old bedchamber, where Lizzie and Muriella shared Murie’s bed and Lina had the one she had shared with Andrena, growing up.

She had not realized how tired she was. Despite the cat nestled against her legs, purring loudly, she fell asleep soon after her head touched her pillow.

Sometime later, an errant moonbeam touched her face, waking her. For a time, she felt restless and tried to get comfortable…

The woods were dark, the path impossible to discern, but the woman hurried on as if she followed one. She was a shadow, nothing more, a shadow in a long flowing cloak, her hip-length hair also flowing free behind her.

The place was unnaturally silent. Her footsteps were silent, too, as if she walked on duff or damp leaves. A glimmer of silvery light in the distance was enough to show that she cradled something in her arms… nay, several things, long and tubular. As the light grew stronger ahead, the tubes revealed themselves as scrolls of parchment or vellum, three of them.

As the woman passed between two tall trees, she cradled the rolls more tightly and increased her pace to cross a clearing. On the other side, a tall, slender tree trunk had bent oddly back on itself halfway up. When she passed beneath it to re-enter the woods, a disembodied hand reached out from it, caught the woman’s arm, and yanked her behind the tree.

Briefly, before she vanished, moonlight revealed Lady Aubrey’s face.

Lina sat bolt upright in bed, trembling, scarcely able to breathe. Thanks to the pale moonlight beaming through cracks in the shutters, she could see Ansuz at the foot of her bed, glaring at her for disturbing him. Looking toward the other bed, she saw that Murie and Lizzie still slept.

Her thoughts were in such turmoil that she could not make sense of them. She could think only of her mother and the danger that awaited her if, instead of a nightmare, the dream had been evidence of the foresight Mag had suggested she might have inherited. A more horrifying thought struck then.

What if what she had seen had happened as she had watched it or was happening now while she sat in bed, trying to control her terrors?

On the thought, she flung back the covers and got out of bed. Barefoot, without even thinking of finding slippers, she ran to the door, quietly lifted the latch, and slipped out with the angry cat darting downstairs past her. Hurrying down to the next landing, she paused outside her parents’ room to listen. A cresset was alight on the landing there, casting a softly flickering golden glow on the walls.

Andrew slept heavily and sometimes snored, but when Lina put her ear to the door, she heard nothing. Fearing that her mother might already be a captive, she took courage in hand and carefully, with utmost silence, opened the door.

Putting her head in, she strained to see through the darkness to the bed.

“What is it, Lina?” Lady Aubrey asked quietly. “Is Dree sick again?”

Deeply relieved, Lina said, “Nay, Mam. I… I had a bad dream and just needed to hear your voice.”

“Aye, well, you have heard it now, love, so take yourself back to bed.”

“Goodnight, Mam, I love you,” Lina murmured. Then, shutting the door, she returned as silently as she had come. But it was a long while before she slept.

Monday morning, having persuaded Colquhoun, Galbraith, Rob, and Alex that his plan was worth trying because they would lose nowt if it failed, Ian and the others persuaded more of their supporters. After that, a plan began to take form.

Ian sent word to Gorry and Jed Laing to make it known that men had seen a fourteen-point stag in a wood between Balloch and the south end of Loch Lomond. He also told them to let him know when word of the stag reached James Mòr.

Colquhoun, having received no reply to his request for another meeting with James Mòr, sent a message with the same messenger, suggesting they might discuss how James Mòr meant to proceed if he remained Keeper of Dumbarton. Colquhoun also promised to guarantee his safety if he wanted to meet at Dunglass or some other neutral location to escape his tedious confinement at Dumbarton.

“ ’Tis nobbut talk,” Colquhoun said. “I want him to reply. The more inanities I offer, the more likely I am to stir his ire or pique his interest enough to do so.”

Ian smiled to himself. His father had a devious bone or two, too, whether he would admit it or not.

Lina awoke late that morning to find that Lizzie and Murie had arisen before her. Surprised at herself for sleeping later than usual, she got up, quickly performed her ablutions, and dressed. Then, hesitating on the landing, nearly certain that Mag had left Tùr Meiloach by then and wondering if she ought to look in on Andrena, she decided in favor of going down to the great hall first, to see who was there.

Andrena was at the high table with their mother and Lady Margaret, so Lina went in. Greeting her mother and Lady Margaret with a smile, she went around the end of the table to join her sister.

Andrena smiled, clearly relieved to see Lina. Taking her usual seat beside her, Lina asked one of the gillies to bring her toast and a boiled egg. Then, to Andrena, she said, “Mag left early, then.”

“Aye, and I miss him already.”

“How do you feel this morning?”

“Better,” she said. “Your tisane helped, and Mam suggested eating more often. She said it helped her to graze like a sheep, a nibble here, and a bite there.”

Lady Margaret said abruptly, “I expect I shall be leaving in a day or so.”

Both sisters turned as one to stare at her. “So soon, my lady?” Lina said. “We have scarcely just arrived.”

“Aye, well, your father has been talking about that Pharlain person again.”

“Do you fear he will attack?” Lady Aubrey asked her. “I can assure you that Andrew has kept us safe in this tower for twenty years.”

“Aye, through telling lies,” Margaret said. “I know.”

Andrena said, “He does not lie, my lady. He merely repeats tales others have told about Tùr Meiloach. Forbye, strange things do happen here. People have—”

“What Andrena means,” Lady Aubrey interjected, “is that Andrew devised strategies which, aided by the more superstitious amongst us, have kept others from trying to invade Tùr Meiloach. But if you are not happy here, Margaret, then of course you must return to Bannachra.”

“Not unhappy,” Lady Margaret said. “I enjoy your company. But it’s noisy.”

“Then, if you do go, I hope you will let me go with you and stay long enough to see you settled again. You must not travel without a female companion, after all. And since you did not bring your woman…”

“I had no need of her at Inch Galbraith. Nor did she want to go there.”

“Aye, she told us so quite plainly,” Lady Aubrey said with a reminiscent smile. “But if you will let me accompany you, I would not mind another journey.”

Lina exchanged a look with Andrena and saw the same surprised expression on her face that she felt on her own. For Lady Aubrey to encourage a guest to leave was strange enough. To insist on accompanying her on a full day’s journey only to return a few days later was, as Ian might say, devilish odd.

“Why don’t you just invite James Mòr to join the hunt?” Ian asked his father Tuesday afternoon in the great hall when they still had not heard from Dumbarton.

“Building a foundation for such a thing takes patience, lad,” Colquhoun replied. “If I fail to make my invitation plausible, your ruse is bound to fail.”

“But he must have heard about our stag by now. The men are all talking about it. Even Maggy agrees that my plan may work,” he added, looking across the table at Mag, who had returned from Tùr Meiloach the previous evening.

Adam Colquhoun and Mag composed the audience for this exchange at the high table, where the four men had gathered at the end nearest the fireplace. Every other person in the hall was intent on business of his own. Several, including Alex and Rob, occupied themselves with a dice cup near the great hall fire.

Adam refilled Mag’s goblet from the jug and gave Ian an impatient look. “I do not see why you think anyone at Dumbarton will be eager to hunt a stag as old as that one must be. Sakes, with fourteen points, he’s at least a great-grandfather and will be as tough as boot leather to eat.”

“It is not the eating that will interest them, my lad,” Ian said, taking the superior tone that he knew irritated his brother. “I’d wager that James Mòr himself will want its head almost as much as he wants Jamie’s. Just think of it! Fourteen points mounted on his great-hall wall for all to see and marvel at.”

“Aye, perhaps,” Adam said doubtfully.

“No ‘perhaps’ about it,” Ian said. “James Mòr has a high opinion of himself. But I doubt he believes that many folks other than his closest followers share that opinion. To be able to show such a trophy… I promise you, the man will salivate.”

“He’s right, Adam,” Mag said. “Men will do much to kill a stag like that.”

Adam still looked doubtful.

When Wednesday morning passed without word from James Mòr, Ian could tell that the other men were fast growing impatient.

Deciding to proceed as if all were in train, he sent gillies to invite local landowners and tenants to prepare for a day’s hunting on Saturday. Hunters would be welcome to stalk the stag on foot or horsed and free to take as many other deer as necessary to provide a grand roast venison feast afterward for everyone. They could either gather at Dunglass at dawn or join the hunters along the way.

That most of the venison taken in such a hunt would likely be royal venison was a minor detail, but one that did cause Ian to pause and take a breath. Reassuring himself that Jamie would care more about regaining control of Dumbarton than he would about the loss to the Crown of a few deer, Ian relaxed again.

At Tùr Meiloach, Lina watched Andrena grow more somber by the day. She seemed unduly worried about Magnus, and her concern was evidently contagious, because Lina fervently missed Ian. She dreamed about him nightly and had begun to fear that it might take months if not years for him to reclaim Dumbarton.

Andrew had received more information from watchers at Arrochar and near the passes and had, accordingly, doubled his guard around Tùr Meiloach’s perimeter. He had also ordered the women to stay inside the wall.

“I shall go mad if I have to stay inside, mending things and tending to other tedious work,” Andrena confided as she and Lina settled to their tasks in the solar that afternoon. “I want to walk on the cliffs and elsewhere as I always do.”

“Where are Murie and Lizzie?” Lina asked. “Murie could at least entertain us with one of her stories.”

“They went outside,” Andrena said. “Murie told Lizzie that they could climb to the wall walk and see what there was to see from there. I will not be surprised, though, if the two of them slip out to visit Annie. Murie has wanted to see her again, since they had so little time the other day, and Mam went to Annie’s yesterday without her.”

“Would Murie dare to take Lizzie?” Lina asked. “Father would be furious.”

“Aye, perhaps. But Mam and Lady Margaret are packing to leave tomorrow, so Murie may get away with it. In troth, I’m tempted to slip out myself. The idea that an enemy might catch me walking on our cliffs is absurd. I would sense any enemy presence at Tùr Meiloach before the danger came near.”

Lina agreed, but she felt obliged to remind Andrena of one detail that she had apparently forgotten. “You would be safe enough on the cliffs from an enemy and mayhap even from Father,” she said. “But would not Magnus be angry to learn that you had defied his orders in such a way?”

“Mag is not here,” Andrena said crossly, revealing yet again the true source of her restlessness.

“You do have someone else to consider, too,” Lina said gently.

“I ken fine what you are trying to do, Lina. I also ken fine that I am behaving badly. I do care about the bairn I carry. I care even more right now about Mag, and I would feel much better if I were at Dunglass with him—even if he were angry with me—than I feel here without him. And don’t say that you do not feel the same way about Ian, because I can sense that you do.”

Lina had nothing to say to that, because it was perfectly true.

Her thoughts turned to Ian again that evening while Lady Aubrey was explaining to Lady Margaret that she had arranged for them to take an armed escort with them to Bannachra. Staring into the low-burning fire, wondering what Ian might be doing, Lina found herself staring into dense woodland instead…

Recognizing the clearing and the oddly shaped tree that had appeared in the strange reverie she had had just after Ian left, and feeling it tug her memory in another way, she recognized the place, as well. As that thought floated through her mind, she saw a moving dark shape beyond the clearing. Black and featureless, it darted from tree to tree. The hair on the back of her neck twitched and tingled, warning of…

“Lina, Mam has twice spoken to you,” Andrena said sharply.

Startled from whatever fantasy had claimed her, Lina looked dazedly around and saw with relief that she was still in the solar and that her mother was sitting, hale and alive, beside Lady Margaret. Both women were staring at her, their heads cocked, each one’s posture a replica of the other’s.

“Are you all right, dearling?” Lady Aubrey asked. “You looked as if your thoughts had gone somewhere else.”

Taking time to draw a breath, Lina said, “I was just thinking, Mam, that if Lady Margaret ought to have a female companion on her journey home, so should you. So I’ve decided to go with you. That way, when you come home, you won’t have to travel for a whole day with only male companions.”

“That is thoughtful of you, Lina,” her mother said, holding her gaze in such a way that Lina could not look away.

To her surprise and relief, however, she was able to meet that piercing gaze without faltering. She felt as if something deep within her were guarding her from revealing the guilt that her small deception had stirred.

Lady Aubrey added, “Much as we would enjoy your company, I fear that Andrena will need you here. Not only are Muriella and Lizzie little company for her, but she may also require your skill with potions.”

“I make poor company for anyone just now, Mam,” Andrena said quietly. “Forbye, Lina’s remedies have already done their part. If she thinks she should go with you, I agree that she should. If Father will permit it, I’d like to walk a short way with you myself. What vexes me sorely is having to stay inside our wall.”

“Ladies do not walk about by themselves,” Lady Margaret said austerely.

Smiling at her, Lady Aubrey said lightly, “Dree has done so without incident since she was a bairn, Margaret. I see no reason not to enjoy your usual walks, Dree. You are sensible enough to stay nearby, and I know you will take the dogs.”

“May I go now, Mam? I’m yearning to walk on the cliffs.”

Lady Aubrey hesitated. “Your father has gone out with his men, dearling. I cannot discuss the matter with him until he returns.”

“Devilish dangerous to walk on a cliff, if you ask me,” Margaret said.

Sensing Dree’s growing frustration, Lina said, “I could go with her, Mam.”

“That would just compound the difficulty.” Lady Aubrey paused. Then she said, “If you take Peter and Tibby with you, and the dogs, Andrena, I doubt that your father will object. I will talk with him as soon as he returns, but despite what you may think, he does not always bow to my persuasion.”

Sensing that Andrena was satisfied, Lina said, “I’ll go and sort clothing that Tibby can pack later for me, Mam. How long should I expect us to stay?”

Seeing Lady Margaret stiffen, she held her breath.

The older woman pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Lady Aubrey said, “Just two or three days. I shall want time enough to rest and to see Margaret settled in comfortably. But I will be eager then to return.”

Lina nearly asked if her mother was ailing in some way. She could not recall Lady Aubrey ever anticipating a need to rest, even after traveling long distances.

Recalling other signs, including a kind of uneasiness that was distinctly unusual for her mother, Lina held her tongue. But later that day, when memory of her strange reveries assailed her again, she recalled those other signs and told Tibby to pack her old green wool cloak. The woods might be chilly.

Doubt arose again that night when she went to bed, and just as she was drifting off to sleep and was thinking lazily, amorously of Ian, his image loomed large in her mind, frowning. His eyes looked unnaturally dark and menacing, his jaw clenched tight. The color in his cheeks was high.

It occurred to her then that she had never seen him angry. She had no idea how he would react if he should learn that she had followed her mother into danger without saying a word to anyone else about her concerns.

Aware as she was of Andrena’s feelings, they seemed to exacerbate hers. By the time she slept, she had persuaded herself that no matter how angry Ian might be with her, if he should actually be angry, she wanted him home and in bed with her.

Thursday morning, Colquhoun received a message from James Mòr expressing his willingness to meet one more time, without mentioning a date. He had added the caveat that Colquhoun would have to forgo his tail and come alone.

Ian, his brother Adam, Mag, Sir Alex, Rob MacAulay, and Galbraith were all in the inner chamber when a gillie brought him the message.

Adam reacted fiercely. “You must not do any such daft thing, sir! Sakes, James Mòr will likely take you hostage if you agree to that.”

“The lad is right, Humphrey,” Galbraith said.

Ian looked from one laird to the other. “It does not matter, since I doubt he will want to meet before Saturday, when we’ll have our hunt. Recall that I invited the local lairds and declared the hunt open to all. I suggest we invite James Mòr, the garrison, and the burghers to join us. Perhaps you, sir, might point out to him that since he and the rebels control Dumbarton, we can legally claim any deer we kill.”

Colquhoun chuckled. “If that doesn’t stir him at least to respond, I shall own myself amazed. He cannot claim to own the deer, though.”

“Aye, sure, he can,” Mag said with a grin. “Anyone would, in his place.”

“I might do that myself,” Galbraith agreed. “The difference here is that Jamie is unlikely to hang Ian for making the statement. He would hang James Mòr for claiming the deer. But he’ll hang that gallous villain anyway if we can catch him.”

“I agree,” Ian said. “Moreover, James Mòr lacks the local lairds’ support. He may be canny enough, though, to try to curry favor with them by joining us.”

The trip to Bannachra took Lina, her mother, and the Lady Margaret all day Thursday. But the sky was clear, and it was such a fine day that Lina soon noted her mother’s distraction. The three women rode garrons—the surefooted Highland ponies so well suited to the rocky terrain of the peaks—and her ladyship’s nerves seemed to be affecting her mount. The normally even-tempered garron shied twice while they were in the woods. Her ladyship easily controlled it, but Lina wondered.

When they were halfway up the ridge to the southeast pass, Lady Aubrey glanced over her shoulder as if she thought someone might be following them.

Lina, riding behind her, said, “What is it that troubles you, Mam?”

“Naught, dearling,” Lady Aubrey said, glancing back again with a smile. “I love the scenery hereabouts and do not want to miss anything.”

Lady Margaret, ahead of them, following Peter and Pluff, made a noise like a snort. But Lina knew better than to ask if she had heard that correctly.

Behind Lina rode four armed men, and Peter carried his sword and dirk, as well. Moreover, before their departure, Pluff had informed her that he had his bow and a quiverful of arrows with him and had been practicing regularly.

“I can hit whatever I aim at now,” the boy assured her confidently.

Lina smiled at the memory. But she also wondered if their escort would prove in the end to be sufficient protection.

Recalling how many men had been with Dougal the day he had captured her and Lizzie was not reassuring. But she had heard Lady Aubrey assure Andrew that naught would harm them on their journey or at Bannachra. Surely her mother would not have said such a thing if she did not know that they’d be safe.

Lina realized that she was not so sure of that, though.

Reminding herself that Lady Aubrey was a truthful person, not to mention a woman gifted with uncanny foresight, Lina tried to persuade herself that no danger existed. But the images of her mother that she had seen at Tùr Meiloach rose again in her mind’s eye then, as clear as they had been before.

Their little party stopped long enough on the ridge crest to enjoy the view of Ben Lomond in the distance and Loch Lomond below. They could see the end of the loch and the woodland where Lina and Lizzie had fallen captive.

When Lady Aubrey reached out and squeezed Lina’s shoulder, she knew that her mother was thinking about that day just as she was. “It was such an awful thing, love,” Lady Aubrey said. “I nearly fainted when I heard what had happened.”

“How did you find out?” Lina asked, realizing that from one cause or another it had not occurred to her to ask that question before.

“A rider brought a message the next day, saying that you and Lizzie were safe at Dumbarton but would remain hostages to ensure your fathers’ cooperation.”

Lady Aubrey changed the subject then and asked about Lady Colquhoun. Not until after they had arrived at Bannachra and had their supper did Lina give more thought to that brief exchange and wonder who had sent the message. Had it come from James Mòr or from Dougal MacPharlain?

Lady Aubrey was helping Lady Margaret see to chores that Margaret had insisted must be done before she could sleep. Lina offered to help, hoping to find time to talk more with her mother. But the two older women shooed her off to bed.

She was ascending the stairway when a wave of dizziness struck her.

Steadying herself against the cold, curved stone wall, she drew a breath and shut her eyes to make the stairwell stop spinning…

The woods were darker than before and chilly, as if clouds hid the sun. She was hurrying, although she had felt just seconds before as if she were standing still and fighting dizziness.

Now, speed was important, nay, urgent.

The misshapen tree appeared beyond the small clearing. Under the tree, in shadow, the feminine figure lay stretched on its side, unmoving.

Rushing to kneel beside it, she put her hand on the woman’s shoulder and, terrified, drew it toward her.

Lady Aubrey’s face was bruised, her eyes shut, her body unresponsive.

A noise from below startled the vision away. Disoriented, dizzy again, Lina welcomed the feeling of the cold stone stairway wall still beneath her hand.

Hearing Lady Aubrey’s voice below in the distance, she drew another steadying breath and tried to think, to decide what to do.

Her thoughts refused to sort themselves. But surely her mother would understand what was happening if it was some sort of peek into the future. The best thing, clearly, would be to talk to her in the morning.

However, the two older women seemed determined to keep her working. By Friday afternoon, Lina was sure that her mother wanted to avoid the very talk that Lina wanted to have with her.