Carn Mo'r Read online

  Horses stomped greetings to one another in the stables. A variety of buggies were lined up. Above the stables men were laying out cots to sleep on. There would be few venturing home tonight or tomorrow. I’ve seen a good Ceilidh last for a week. This one wouldn’t though. There was too much happening around the Glen.

  It was a beautiful summer’s day. The heads of families were milling around discussing all the normal topics. The big question on every one’s mind was, would we eat in or out? All eyes turned to me. I sniffed the air.

  ‘OUT.’

  The decision made; every one set-to with a will. Storerooms were opened and long tables and benches appeared. No sooner had they been set up than Robyn and Connie appeared, Robyn carrying a tray of warm bread and Connie, butter and jams. Other women appeared bearing pots of tea and mugs.

  The men flocked round and I wheeled away as she laughed at their sallies and compliments. John found me on the steps of a side door fighting the surge of jealousy that had swept me. He handed over a steaming mug of hot black tea and a slice of bread and strawberry jam. I ignored the bread.

  ‘If you don’t eat it I will.’

  I took it reluctantly and bit into it. ‘Robyn’s,’ I stated, before I could stop myself.

  He laughed. ‘You only have to taste it once to know. Connie thinks she’s a magician.’

  ‘She shouldn’t be anywhere near a kitchen the way she’s dressed,’ I snapped.

  ‘They prepared it all yesterday; they only had to shove it in the oven.’ He tried to sooth. ‘Did you notice the Doc mooning over Mary Fox?’

  ‘Did you notice Mary mooning over the Doctor?’

  ‘She must like him.’

  ‘What’s not to like?’

  He nodded. ‘Good point. Why are you hiding out here?’

  ‘I’m no hiding,’ I snapped.

  ‘One of the lads said you strode off with a face like thunder.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ I growled, not liking the fact I’d been read so easily.

  ‘You’ve never been a good liar Alasdair, so dinna try and start now over the head of a woman.’ I eyed him warily but he went on. ‘You’re falling in love with the lass and the sooner you admit it to yourself the easier you’re going to feel.’

  I felt a great up-welling of emotions. Anger, fear, love, helplessness; they were all there. I got up and paced the grey granite steps, too choked to talk for a moment; but as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I slumped back down with despair in my heart. ‘Love or no John, she still screams at the sight of my naked back.’

  ‘Why are you worrying about all that shit for?’

  I was a bit taken aback. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Look man, they’ll be gone in a couple of weeks; you’ll have plenty time to moon over a lost love then. In the mean time take advantage of your position in life for once, will you?’

  I frowned, not understanding.

  ‘You’re her host. No matter how she feels about you she can hardly refuse to dance with you can she? Take command of the situation. Get back inside and sweep her off her feet with your charm. Be greedy, demand all her attention. You’re fantastic company when you want to be, so want to be.’

  I took off my eagle-feathered bonnet and scratched my head. ‘Christ! It’s a long time since I was the life and soul of a party.’

  ‘Aye well maybe it’s about time you started living again.’

  I stood, replacing my bonnet. ‘Where would I be now without you John?’

  ‘Dead,’ he growled, getting to his feet and heading off.

  I pursued, ‘hey, so would you be without me.’

  ‘I saved your life more than you saved mine.’

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘It’s true enough,’ he snorted, ‘besides, I saved yours first.’

  ‘Bollocks!’

  We rejoined the company, arguing still.

  Chapter 22

  Robyn was aghast at the amount of people who had turned up for the Ceilidh. Connie had been right the kitchen now looked too small.

  She donned a spare apron of Connie’s and removed some cooked bread from the oven. The warm aroma wafted around her like a bright summer shawl. Connie appeared at her side with a smile and together they put in a large platter of ribs that Robyn had prepared. An exotic aroma soon began to invade the surrounding work areas and it brought round some of the more inquisitive women.

  Robyn was soon chatting away gaily, sometimes having to ask a woman to repeat what she said so she could understand.

  Connie, standing back a little, began to notice not all the looks she was getting were friendly. Robyn handed around some cakes she had prepared earlier and the mood in the kitchen moved subtly, full-blown envy began to rear its ugly head.

  Alasdair passed through the kitchen and more than one woman caught the looks that passed between the Laird and the young American woman.

  Sylvia Brown managed to get Connie on her own for a few moments; they had been friends through childhood.

  ‘Hello Connie.’

  ‘Hi Sylvia, how’s the bairns?’

  ‘Fine, how are your Johns?’

  ‘Fine, although I sometimes wonder which one’s the bairn.’

  They laughed together, ‘I know what you mean. Tell me, what do you think of this American lass?’

  ‘Och she’s lovely, Sylvia, and she likes to help out too. Have you tried one of her cakes?’

  ‘I did that, it fairly melted in my mouth it did.’

  ‘Wait until you taste her bread, and she’s a dab hand with the spices.’

  A look of concern crossed Sylvia’s face. ‘You really like her, don’t you Connie?’

  Alarm bells began to ring in Connie’s head. ‘Yes. Why, what's wrong?’

  Sylvia shrugged. ‘It’s nothing just watch your back ok?’

  Sylvia turned away but Connie grasped her by the shoulder. ‘Wait, what’s going on?’

  Sylvia grimaced, ‘there’s talk, that’s all.’

  ‘There’s always talk Sylvia, what kind of talk?’

  ‘Well some say she’s casting a line for the Laird, and they don’t like it.’

  Connie bristled but held her temper in check, realising her old friend was probably trying to help Robyn through her. ‘I would hardly put it like that Sylvia, although I know she’s attracted to him, and I think he to her.’

  A pained smile crossed Sylvia’s face. ‘I was afraid of that.’

  ‘What have they got against her?’

  ‘You mean apart from the fact she’s American and a lot of men from the Glen died at their hands.’

  ‘Yes but her father also saved a lot of the men’s lives, that’s why we’re having this Ceilidh.’

  Sylvia’s shoulders slumped as she reached out and took Connie's hand, ‘I know that and you know that, but our men returned home from the war Connie, so many didn’t, her father never saved their lives,’

  Connie was beginning to feel frustrated. ‘Yes I realise that, but for God’s sake, they can’t hold it against that innocent lass.’

  ‘Who else have they to hold it against? They know they can’t hold it against the father after what he did, and for most she’s the first American they have ever seen, or are ever likely to see.’

  ‘But Alasdair may have a chance of happiness here, surely they won’t take that chance from him?’

  Sylvia shrugged helplessly. ‘I don’t know Connie. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. We’ll just have to wait and see.’

  ‘Could you keep your ear to the ground for me?’

  Sylvia nodded and made her way back to her family.

  Chapter 23

  John joined Connie as she was getting dressed. Air rumbled in his chest at the sight of her in her stockings.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ she squealed as he made a grab for her. ‘I’ve already washed.’

  ‘You can always have another wash.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she scolded, half-heartedly slipping away from his searching hands, b
ut he managed to cup a breast and the nipple sprang to life. ‘You’re a pig John Buchan,’

  ‘And you’re a Ladder hills beauty that makes my blood boil,’ he growled in her ear.

  ‘I hope that’s your sporran that’s digging in to me.’

  He slipped it to the side and pressed her to him. ‘Nope.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ she gasped pulling him down onto the bed. ‘You’d better make it fast, husband. It’s impolite to make love to your wife and keep your guests waiting.’

  Connie was a beautiful woman and John had been half worried that one-day Alasdair would turn his considerable charms on her, but he needn't have. Both had quickly become friends and that was that. His feelings crushed in on him as she lifted his kilt and wrapped her stocking legs around his waist.

  He slipped off her bra and searched for those darkened buds.

  ‘Oh John,’ she cried out and reached down. Now it was his turn to gasp as she grasped him and guided him inside herself. They both cried out in ecstasy as he plunged deep, their combined passions building quickly.

  She felt him swell inside her and goose bumps appeared under her searching hands. ‘Oh yes John, yes,’ she cried out once more as he flooded her with his warmth.

  They lay locked together for long moments until their breathing settled once more. He pushed himself up. ‘Why are you always so ready for me?’

  She smiled lovingly at him. ‘It’s because you’re always so ready for me.’

  He laughed and she slapped him lightly. He slid out and rolled on to his side and gently cradled her in his arms, she played idly with the buttons on his shirt. ‘Did you find Alasdair?’

  ‘Aye, round the side.’

  ‘Did you talk to him about Robyn?’ He told her the jist of their conversation. Connie shook her head sadly. ‘Why is he so blind to her feelings for him?’

  ‘He’s only becoming aware of his own feelings for her. You’ll have to give him time. It’s hardly surprising though. For years he’s been bottling up all his emotions. Now Robyn’s came along and popped that cork and he doesn’t really know what’s happening to him. He’s struggling really hard to get control of the emotional storm that’s assaulting his every wakening moment. Remember, I wasn’t much better myself at one time.’

  She giggled and grasped the front of his shirt pulling him over for a kiss. ‘Aye but I persisted and got you in the end.’

  John frowned. ‘Why didn’t you go for Alasdair?’ The words were out before he could stop them.

  Connie looked into his face, her eyes filled with adoration. ‘Alasdair might be a handsome man John, but it wasn’t the sight of him that quickened my heart or made my legs turn to jelly. Nor was it his hands I dreamed of caressing my body in those lonely nights.’

  John felt his pulse quicken again. So did she and pushed him away. ‘I have to get washed again.’

  Getting up and filling a bowl she dampened a cloth. ‘We’ll have to be careful tonight John.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Some of the women have already noticed the chemistry between the two of them.’

  ‘Aye, so?’

  ‘She’s American, John.’

  ‘But she’s the daughter of the man who saved his life and half the lives of the men in this Glen.’

  ‘Not all the men were saved John. Try and remember that.’

  Anger flushed through him. ‘Damn them Connie, they’re not going to spoil his only chance of happiness. I won’t let them.’

  ‘I know you won’t, I’m only telling you so you can see what’s happening.’

  He calmed down a little. ‘I’m sorry, thank you,’ kissing her passionately, he left. This was a day he would have to stay sober and prey he hadn’t set Alasdair up for the biggest fall of his life. For John knew Alasdair would never put the matters of his own heart before the welfare of the Glen.

  Chapter 24

  Exhilaration! Is that what you call what I was feeling? John was right. Live for the moment and this one was mine. Men and women laughed, children screamed and fought, the feasting had begun. The table had been filled with food and all but Connie sat at the table.

  As guests of honour, the Doctor and Robyn sat either side of me. I searched the table with my eyes but couldn’t find what I was looking for, but as usual Connie was one step ahead of me.

  The table erupted in laughter as she appeared baring a large platter of ribs. I am ashamed to say I am rather addicted of them.

  ‘There you go Alasdair, get your teeth into this lot.’

  ‘Gravy Connie?’ I observed the plate thoughtfully; I’m no great lover of gravy.

  She sat on the other side of John. ‘Try it and see.’

  I’m sure my face was a little screwed up as I put it to my mouth, but one bite was enough to know. The flavours exploded in my mouth. Never had I tasted such a thing. I waved the rib rudely at her.

  ‘There is no way in Gods’ good earth did you make this, Connie,’ I pointed the rib at Robyn who was sitting holding her breath looking petrified. ‘This is definitely your doing woman.’ She nodded breathlessly. ‘You’re a witch. Nothing can taste this good.’

  The table erupted with laughter. ‘John you have to taste this, it’s unbelievable.’

  I shoved the plate down. He took a bite of a rib then to my horror passed the plate along. ‘Hey …’

  ‘Now now, ye canna keep such a delight to yourself man,’ he grinned.

  I watched in utter disbelief as the large platter disappeared. When it arrived back there wasn’t so much as a spot of that delicious sauce left on it.

  ‘If food is the way to a man’s heart my dear, then you’ve just captured the heart of every man in the Glen,’ Mrs. Fox told her. A rapturous roar of approval greeted the statement.

  I was still reeling from the shock. ‘Where did you learn to make such a thing?’

  She was blushing furiously, ‘from our maid.’

  ‘Then please give her the compliments of the Glen when you get home.’

  ‘I’d be proud to.’

  I was still heartbroken though. I eyed John, but he studiously ignored me, but neither was he gloating. It made me wonder. Compliments flew up the table for her bread and cakes. I don’t think she had ever received such attention, and was quite taken aback. I was pleased and so was her father, pride shone from him.

  Towards the end of the meal, I felt a tug at my plaid. A greasy face stared up at me, 7 years old if it was a day. ‘I want a story.’

  ‘Do you now?’ I grinned. This was a part of the gathering I not only enjoyed but also excelled at. I cleared away my plates and sat the mite in front of me. An expectant hush settled as I stood, but I concentrated on my audience of one.

  ‘Over a thousand years ago, through the mists of time, there stood on the mountain of Bennachie 30,000 of the bravest warriors Scotland had ever amassed. With them stood men from all over the known world. These men had refused to bow to the power that opposed them that day, the scourge of the known world.

  For before them stood the massed armies of Rome, resplendent in their finest armour, an army which had conquered every country that had ever defied it. Every country bar one; Scotland.

  In the centre of our army stood two men. The first Sinclair and the first Buchan. Behind them in ranks were 300 fighting men of the Clan. Our chieftain stepped forward and faced these men and held his claymore high.

  ‘Men of men, blood of my blood, today the eyes of the world are upon us, for we are their last hope for freedom. If we fail today then we too shall join the ranks of the enslaved and the last flicker of light in the hearts of the free shall die with us.

  If you find yourself mortally stricken, then lie not in the heather and weep for your mothers’. Pick yourself up and use your last breath to bring down the spears that threaten to enslave your children. Today there will be no retreat and no surrender.’

  And the whole mountain shook with a roar of approval. For more than our own men were inspired th
at day by his words.

  As the day lengthened the battle commenced. Many times did they repel the onslaught of horse and chariot, spear and bow. They stood firm as the skies darkened with the flights of arrows. Then as the sun stood high behind Bennachie and shone in the eyes of the Romans, our great King stood forth and took the Clans’ war cry as his own.

  With the sun dancing off his claymore, he cried forth, ‘no retreat, no surrender.’

  Again the mountain shook, but this time it was with the pounding of warriors’ feet. Again the skies darkened with arrows, and as they drew nearer, the deadly Roman javelin, but nothing could stop that irresistible charge.

  As they reached that impenetrable line of shields the men from CarnMo’r jumped high over them into the ranks behind. Abandoning their claymores they fought with dirk and Targe cutting up the legions from within. Oh so many fell that day, but at the end of it the back of the legion was broken and they were forced to retreat.

  ‘Bring me the bravest of the brave,’ the King commanded and all knew of whom he spoke, and when the men of our Glen finally stood before him he wept. For all that was left of the Clan were ten men and all wounded.

  ‘What is you name warrior?’ the King asked.

  Two men stood forward. ‘I am the Sinclair and this is the Buchan, blood of my blood and brother of my soul.’

  ‘Are there no more of you left?’

  ‘None Sire; all lie in death’s embrace with their enemies. Indeed, did I not see with my own eyes those already slain raise again and again and fight on as well in death as they did in life. We ten are all that are left.’

  ‘Where do you hail from warrior?’

  ‘We live beneath the shadow of a great mountain called CarnMo’r, my King.’

  For the last time that day the King held forth his great claymore so all could see and roared mightily so all could hear, ‘I here-by declare the mountain of CarnMo’r and the lands that surround shall forever remain in the hands of the Sinclair. Neither will it be lawful for any man or King to try and wrest it from them, for if these mountains are at the heart of our nation then these men are its soul.’