Page 29 of Highlander’s Sloth

It Is Time

Dunn found Lady Elspeth to be as useless as her husband was after they had heard the baron’s ultimatum. She seemed to find solace by weeping into her divan cushions, and the laird was acting as though the baron had organized this especially to bring the Macanroy household the biggest amount of stress. To Dunn, it appeared as though Laird Macanroy believed that if he sulked and huffed enough while lying in his bed, Laird Duncombe and Baron Lloyd would be induced to change their mind.

He took it upon himself to communicate with the baron using negotiating tactics such as disbelief and dismay. Dunn composed the letter on behalf of the laird, saying that he could hardly credit such a request and, as Laird Duncombe had always been considered to be a cordial and approachable neighbor, believed the matter could be resolved in a friendly manner. He ended it by writing that the Macanroy clan was not without allies, and it would go better with the baron if he released Callum and Kirsty on receiving this reply.

When Dunn read through the letter and shaken the sand off it, he hoped the words were enough to avert disaster for now while he tried to invigorate Laird Macanroy to take stricter and swifter action.

He handed the letter to the messenger, hoping his grim face did not let the rider know that Dunn believed the clan to be in more of a fix than he was letting on. They had no soldiers, no armory, and no defenses; things would go very bad for them if some kind of an agreement was not reached. Truth be told, Dunn was amazed the lodge had not been attacked before; there had not been any protection offered by the clan for four generations. It was one of the key reasons why the clan shrunk every year because as every farmer and worker knew, a laird needed a standing army to defend his wealth and continued prosperity, and the wealth and prosperity of those who paid him rent.

Dunn had no choice but to approach Laird Macanroy again and ask him if he was still resolved to do nothing. He found the old man asleep and left, closing the door softly behind him. At this juncture, he did not think the laird would live long enough to witness the fall of the Macanroy clan because that was the way things were heading.

The new, efficient sentry at the gate rang the bell. This meant that someone from the lodge must prepare themselves for an imminent arrival. It was a very good system and one which linked what was happening at the gates to the footman in the entrance hall. Kirsty had implemented it only a few weeks after the wedding. Silently, Dunn thanked Kirsty and went outside to meet the new arrivals.

His eyes nearly started from their sockets. Riding into the courtyard as though they had not a care in the world were Callum and Kirsty, closely followed by a grinning Brock and the missing groom.

He ran out to meet them, shouting, “If ye tell me the whole thing was a charade, I swear I’ll kick yer behind meself, Cal!”

Callum’s smile when he saw his friend was not as jolly as Dunn thought it should be. When he came closer, it became apparent the four riders had experienced great hardships over the last few days.

“I wish I could say ‘well met’ auld friend,” Dunn said, “but I fear yer appearance speaks for itself.”

He went to hand Kirsty down from her horse. “Milady, come inside this instant. Ye look fit to expire!”

Indeed, Kirsty was close to exhaustion. They had been riding from sunup to sundown for five days, and the sun rose early and set late in the Highlands in summer. For the first few days, they had been too scared to light fires at night and had only saddle blankets to use to keep them warm because the moment the sun sank below the purple mountains, a chill had blanketed the earth, but not enough to deter the thousands of midges that infested the cold night skies.

Callum had pawned his signet ring and their wedding bands as soon as they had the chance, but the scant food the money had bought them had not been enough to stop hunger from gnawing at their insides all day. When they were sure no sign of pursuit was coming from behind them, Kirsty had used her stay laces to catch grouse and pheasants, but these small birds were not good eating amongst the four of them. Callum had had to barter his expensive French traveling cloak with a beggar for a flint with which to light the fire.

Kirsty and Callum stumbled into the entrance hall and beckoned Brock and the groom to come with them. After all they had been through, the small group was bonded in the most significant way. Brock could hardly recognize his master as the businesslike and active young man he had been riding with over the last five days. Not only had Callum found the strength to encourage them to travel as far as they could every day, but at each stop, he made sure his two traveling companions and his wife were fed, warm, and had their thirst quenched before he so much as touched a drop of water or ate anything himself. When the moon rose and the wind began to howl through the treetops, Callum would go and wrap a protective arm around Kirsty while she slept. Brock was amazed to see such a change in someone who had not three months before had considered rising before noon an arduous chore best left to others.

Callum wasted no time in striding to his father’s rooms in the west wing. From what the baron had told them during his drunken bletherings when he came to visit them in the evenings, the man’s ambitions had grown greatly since his initial plans to take the whisky at a hugely reduced rate. Between Fotheringham and Laird Duncombe, it seemed as though they were preparing to take the receipt by whichever means necessary. He shot questions at Dunn as they approached his father’s chambers.

“So, the dastardly baron had already told me faither to surrender the receipt, and he was refused?”

Dunn nodded. “Aye. There was nay question about it in yer faither’s eyes. It may be he looked to ye to escape and make yer way back home from the start?”

Callum looked dubious. “P’raps, but me faither’s in such poor health, the poor auld man cannae be expected to make sense of the matter. It’s up to us to figure out a solution to this, and for me to do that, I need the laird’s permission to act in his stead.”

“Is it serious, Cal?” Dunn wanted the truth. For over one hundred years, the Macanroys had been blessed with neighbors who were willing to keep the peace for the sake of a few bottles of whisky, but if they lost that magical ability to placate warlike Highlanders with a crate of delicious whisky, who knows what the Macanroys might find marching over the hills.

“I’ll give ye the bare bones to ye without roundaboutation, Dunn,” Callum said grimly. “We have no fortifications, weapons, or men—and things are likely to get far worse afore they get better.”

Without knocking or bothering to be quiet, Callum entered his father’s sickroom and went to the side of the bed. For a brief moment, he looked at his father’s tuft of white hair sticking out of the covers, with a soft, loving expression on his face. The laird was old and feeble, and there were so many reasons why he had given up the ghost early on in these affairs, but Callum had a wife to think about now and the time for stepping delicately around his father’s feelings was over.

He shook Laird Lachlan awake, saying in a loud voice, “Faither, I’m back!”

The old man seemed confused for a moment, and then an overjoyed beaming smile spread over his face.

“Cal, me boy! I knew ye’d do the trick! I hope ye left that pox-ridden baron in the lurch. Is Kirsty all right?”

Slightly appeased by Laird Lachlan’s warm welcome, Cal leaned over and gave his father a brief hug before cutting straight back to business.

“That pox-ridden baron is nae likely to stay lurched for long, Faither! And my wife is none the worse for our little misadventure—at least, nothing that a hot bath and food cannae cure. ‘Twas me own fault for trusting in man’s better nature, something that does nae happen in business unless one has the upper hand and holds on to it! Or so I’ve learned since ye last saw me.”

Laird Lachlan seemed more troubled than angry. “Ye must call yer mither to me bedside, Son. She will be so happy to see ye safe and back home. There will be time enough to dissect this sad affair after ye have rested and eaten.”

Callum patted his father on the back but replied, “Sure, I’ll be off to pay me respects to mither, but I’ll no’ take ye up on that offer to rest, Faither. The time for resting and sleeping the days away are over at Macanroy Lodge! We must prepare for the worst...or have ye no’ heard?”

And on those words, he walked out of the room with Dunn by his side, his best friend having to trot to keep up with him.