Betrayed (30 page)

Colin MacDonald stood up. “Now that ye have eaten, my lords, I welcome ye again to Nairns Craig and ask that ye listen to what my brother, the Lord of the Isles, has to say to ye.”

The hall grew very quiet, even the servants ceasing their labors, as Alexander MacDonald arose to speak to the gathering of the chieftains. The torches and the candles spread mysterious shadows across the room as he spoke.

“My lords,” he began, “I must thank my brother of Nairn and his bonnie wife for offering us their hospitality. May I remind ye that this meeting among us is to remain secret. Today is the last day of May, in the year of our lord fourteen hundred and twenty-five. None of
us has yet been called to Inverness to pledge fealty to James Stewart. It is verra possible that the days of our autonomy are coming to an end.”

Here and there were shouts of disapproval, but the Lord of the Isles held up his hand, and silence once more settled upon the hall.

“I don't like it either, and I will resist it, but we must face facts. In the eastern highlands and south of the Tay this king has united the clans. There has even been talk here in the north and in the west among some of the clans of pledging fealty. I will stop no man from doing so, nor will I count him my enemy unless he chooses to make himself such. I have called ye here to tell ye that each must do what he decides is best for his clan. Some of ye are small, no more than a few hundred men, and others of ye can command a thousand or more to yer banner. Be warned, however, that any who pledge fealty to James Stewart with the idea of then gaining his help to attack me and mine, will suffer in the worst possible ways. I will come down on ye like a wolf upon a hapless sheep. I will spare none of yer people, men, women, the aged, babes suckling at their mam's tit. I am the Lord of the Isles, and I will remain so.”

Duncan Campbell stood up, saying, “And if we swear fealty to this Stewart king, and he asks our aid in overcoming yer power, my lord, what then? Our loyalties will be divided. Honor bound, we must obey the king, our overlord. Yet like ye, we are highlanders.”

“Yer strong enough to stand by me until the last moment, Duncan Campbell,” the Lord of the Isles said. “Yer family is not small or weak.”

The Late MacNeill rose up. “I am here for my brother, Gilleonan, who is ill with running bowels and could not come. We are a small family, my lord, and pledged to ye as yer vassals. There is no doubt as to the
course we will take. We will follow ye as we always have. We will not pledge ourselves to this Stewart until ye do.” He sat back down.

“Discuss this among yerselves,” the Lord of the Isles said, “but keep a rein on yer tempers. There will be no fighting or killing in my brother of Nairn's hall. Remember there are women here.”

The chieftains began to discuss the matter in reasonable tones at first, but slowly their voices escalated as their deliberations deepened and views were frankly exchanged. The smaller families were concerned about their ability to defend themselves, not just from James Stewart, but from the larger families who would prey on them no matter the course they chose, as they had always preyed on them. The larger clans considered the wisdom of deserting their alliance with Alexander MacDonald to join with Scotland's king. Yet there was the distinct possibility that the new king would reward those who quickly came to his side rather than waiting for a gathering to be called in Inverness.

Robert Cameron muttered, “’Tis like tossing the dice. One canna be certain if they will win.”

“Are ye thinking of deserting our ancient confederacy, then, Robbie Cameron?” said William MacIntyre heatedly.

Those at the high board listened with interest to the exchanges going on about them.

“Duncan Campbell is not to be trusted,” Nairn said to his elder brother. “The Campbells have always been jealous of our power.”

“But not strong enough to defy us until now,” Alexander MacDonald replied. “I can see he is considering the advantage of kneeling before James Stewart, but should he do so before I do, he will make an enemy of the MacDonalds for all time. The smaller families
I canna blame for attempting to protect their own, for I will acknowledge to ye, and ye alone, brother, that I know in the end I will yield, too.”

‘James Stewart said to me when he reconfirmed my title and lands that I should kneel before him immediately after ye, Alex, and so I shall, but not before then, I swear it.”

The Lord of the Isles clapped his younger sibling upon the shoulder and said, “I love ye, Nairn. I'm glad for the day our father brought ye to Islay to raise up with the rest of us.”

Suddenly all eyes in the hall swung to Ian MacArthur, who said loudly, “Why do we not kill this Stewart king, my lords? ‘Twould save a great deal of trouble for us in the end. He has no heir yet. The queen, I am told, delivered of a daughter. Old Atholl is the nearest male relation to the throne. Kill James Stewart, and the lands south of the Tay would erupt in chaos with the struggle to gain his throne. We might seek for Duke Murdoch's surviving son, the other James, who I am told is in Ireland.” Ian MacArthur looked about him for support.

Alexander MacRurie leapt up, saying, “’Tis a fine idea Ian has put forth. If we kill James Stewart, the matter is settled for us. And if we put his nephew to do the deed, who can blame us?”

“Are ye so stupid?” said Fiona, standing up behind the high board, “that ye think Duke Murdoch's Jamie Stewart would be willing to avenge his father and brothers for naught? And dare ye offer him coin to do the murder? He could not take it for shame, and would be called a Judas. So what would he want, my good lords?” she demanded scathingly of them, and then as quickly answered her own question. “I will tell ye what he would want, ye fine pair of fools.
He would want yer
support! And
ye would have no choice but to give it him lest he make yer part in the murder of an anointed and rightful king public knowledge. Do ye think the church would let stand such wickedness without becoming involved? So ye would trade a just, though hard, Stewart for a cowardly and guileful Stewart? Ye would never be able to trust him. ’Tis surely no bargain.” Fiona sat back down in her seat to let them digest her words. Highland women were outspoken, and none thought it odd that she had taken part in the discussion. Indeed, many of the chieftains were impressed, and considered her words thoughtfully, for they had been told of her intimate acquaintance with the king and his queen.

“Such an act would surely bring fire and sword to the highlands,” Elizabeth McKay said quietly to those at the high boards. “Fiona speaks wisdom, and I hope ye will listen well, my brother.” She looked directly at the Lord of the Isles. “What think ye of Lord MacArthur's suggestion?”

“I think he is a fool, as our bonnie Fiona so wisely observed,” Alexander MacDonald said. “’Twould be unworthy of a MacDonald to be part of such a plot. I will espouse no such thing, sister, and ye know it well without asking,” he finished.

“Yet,” his sister said, “MacArthur's close adherent is The MacRurie, who is a part of the MacDonald family, brother. How will ye keep him under control?”

Alexander MacDonald smiled wolfishly. “When the day comes that we must go to Inverness, and the king desires a member of our family to make an example of, do ye nae think MacRurie will do, sister?”

“Ah, Alex, our da would be proud of ye,” she said, smiling at him. “’Tis a plan worthy of Donald of Harlaw”

Fiona listened to them as well as to the continued discussions in her hall. This proposed assassination by Ian MacArthur and Alexander MacRurie was something she would pass on, for although it would undoubtedly come to nothing, the king should be warned. She was worried as to how her information could be transmitted, for she was in no condition to go to Inverness to visit the cloth-and-ribbon merchant and none of the other agents had come to Nairns Craig this spring. She turned to her brother-in-law and asked, “Have ye seen Father Ninian, my lord? I would have him here to baptize the bairn after it is born.”

“I have heard he was somewhere north of Nairns Craig, my bonnie,” the lord answered her, “but do not fear. He came to Islay earlier this spring, and told me then he planned to be with ye and Nairn come June.”

“June comes in tomorrow, my lord,” Fiona said.

“’Tis a fine month for a bairn to be born in,” the lord told her with a broad smile.

Fiona laughed. “Any moment would suit me for this bairn to be born. I am as swollen as an overripe grape.”

“Is my nephew an active wee fellow?” Elizabeth MacKay asked.

“He is never still,” Fiona responded, “yet in the last day or two he has quieted, it seems.”

Elizabeth MacKay gave Moire Rose an arch look. “The bairn will be born soon,” she said with certainty.

Nairn did not come to bed that night, and Fiona slept badly. In the morning, however, she was up, dressed in a loose-fitting dark green gown, and in the hall to supervise the servants seeing to the early meal. Oat porridge, fresh bread, two hams, several bowls of hard-boiled eggs, stone crocks of butter, and a new
wheel of hard, sharp cheese were set out, along with pitchers of foaming brown ale. The chieftains, most bleary-eyed, were nonetheless awake, and had attended to their personal needs. They sat down at the trestles, eating hungrily as if they had not eaten in a month, swiftly emptying the pitchers of ale.

Then, one by one, they began to take their leave of Nairns Craig. Fiona stood with her husband at the entry to the hall, bidding each man a polite farewell. She knew each man's name and spoke it as he came abreast of her. The chieftains were pleased by her womanly manners, and many complimented Nairn on his good fortune in his wife. When they had all departed but for The MacDonald and his relations, Fiona returned to the hall again to make certain the trestles were cleared off and set to one side of the room. Then the morning meal for the rest of her guests was brought out.

The Lord of the Isles, who had been in the hall earlier to bid his vassals and allies farewell, was already seated at the high board with his sister and his brother-in-law, The MacKay. “Yer wife is a great asset to us, Nairn,” he said. “She spoke well, and with much common sense last night. Many commented upon it. I am verra pleased with ye, my bonnie,” he told Fiona, a smile lighting his whole face.

“I don't wish to raise my children amid the din of constant war, my lord,” Fiona told him. “No woman does, be she of high or low station. ’Tis ye men who cry war and then send our sons into battle. I but sought to keep the peace for as long a time as possible.”

“But if our autonomy is threatened, we must defend ourselves,” the Lord of the Isles said sternly.

“All James Stewart asks of ye is loyalty,” Fiona said. “He has a mighty task to bring Scotland under control
He wants the towns to become great commercial centers like the English have because that is what makes them prosperous, but how can the towns grow when the clans are always burning them in retaliation for one thing or another? If he knows ye will keep the peace here in the north and west, then ye will undoubtedly be left in peace. Why does a man like Alexander MacDonald, Lord of the Isles, a man known for his honor, find it so difficult to swear fealty? If ye were but one man, it would not be so hard, but ye are the key to peace in these highlands. Without yer support most of the others will not swear, and they remain a thorn in the king's side. Eventually he must pluck that thorn or be called craven and weak-willed, as his father was. He will not allow his own honor to be compromised thusly, my lord.”

“Let us see if the king calls us all to Inverness,” the Lord of the Isles said. “I don't have to make a decision before then, do I?”

Fiona shook her head in despair. How could she tell this great and powerful chieftain that he was making a terrible mistake? By not swearing to James Stewart now, he was but antagonizing the king. James Stewart had a long memory and a single goal: to unite Scotland. He would do whatever he had to to attain that goal, as Fiona well knew. Suddenly a sharp pain caused her to stagger, and a pool of water puddled around her feet. Shocked, she looked down at it.

Her attention engaged, Elizabeth MacKay's eyes went to where Fiona's were. She saw the water and, standing up, announced, “I knew it! The bairn is to be born this day. Did I not say it last night? Did I not say the bairn would come soon? Well, don't stand there, ye great fools! Fiona must be taken to her chamber, and the birthing table brought. Hurry now!”

Colin MacDonald almost knocked his brother over as he rushed to reach his wife. “Do ye have pain, sweeting?” he asked her, picking her up and walking quickly across the hall to the staircase leading to their chambers. “Ah, Fiona mine, I canna bear to see ye hurting.”

“Then ye should not have gotten a bairn upon me, Nairn,” she said with a small attempt at humor. She winced. “Ohhhhh!”

The castle servants had been galvanized into action. A serving wench had dashed ahead of Nairn to alert Nelly. Another ran off to find the birthing table.

Elizabeth McKay turned before going up the stairs, saying to her husband and brother, “Keep Colin's spirits up as best ye can when he returns to the hall. And that does not mean getting him drunk, my laddies. I'll both answer to me if ye do!” Then she was gone.