Page 31 of Highlander’s Sloth

Dare to Hope

To Kirsty, it seemed as though the siege of Mac an Goill was happening to her all over again. She could remember the terror she had felt as a young girl in clear detail, staring out of the windows, looking down at the crowd of men gathered outside the castle walls. If it had not been for the bravery shown by her brother and elder sister Margaret’s husband, the castle would have been overrun with brigands. And the most shocking part was that no one saw the chance of it happening; one moment they were going about their daily duties and the next, they were surrounded by possible death and destruction.

But this time would be different. This time Kirsty herself would have a hand in planning the lodge’s defense, and they would not be taken by surprise. She remembered to say something to her husband, who had grown in her estimation so much over the last few weeks, she hardly recognized him as the same idle French courtier she had married.

“Cal, I want to praise ye for sending out sentries with Dunn to search for spies in the hills. It was a brilliant idea and one which has paid us back well indeed. It will now no longer be possible for Laird Duncombe to take us by surprise.”

Callum gave her hand a squeeze and then went back to poring over the ink drawings he had laid out on the table in front of him, saying, “Och, lass, I would no’ have been able to do it if ye had nae hired those men in the first place.”

Dunn was with them in the old laird’s library. The two men had found spidery ink drawings of the lodge’s layout and were seeing where their weakest ingresses might be. Like most clan strongholds, the lodge was surrounded by sturdy walls, built up over time until they were thick and tall. The problem was the lodge itself; unlike a castle, it had started off as a powerful Highland chieftain’s great hall and, over the centuries, grown to become a sprawling lodging, with each generation of Macanroys adding on a wing or tower as the clan expanded. And while this was the perfect accommodation for a chief who was strong and influential enough to negotiate his way out of any disagreement that may arise, by way of powerful allies and gold, this option was no longer available to them.

To Callum’s dismay, he discovered his father had nurtured neither of these necessities and nor had his predecessors for the last four generations. Since the days of the first Lachlan Macanroy, it seemed as though the sole aim of any Macanroy laird had been to live a life of ease, one mired in sloth and pleasure-seeking. It was fortunate they had no outlying farmsteads, clans’ folk, or villagers to worry about bringing within the walls, but there still remained glaringly obvious weak spots.

“Fire arrows could do a lot of damage to the roof and sheds,” Dunn pointed out, “and if one lands on the distilleries, the explosion will be heard all the way down in Holyrood House.”

Callum shrugged. “It’s futile to even worry about those things when all an army has to do is bash in the gates. They have not been reinforced since the War of the Roses.”

The two men sighed and went back to staring at the drawing.

“There’s naught for it but for me to order up the carpenter and blacksmith and begin strengthening the gates as much as possible. I don’ believe they’ll risk fire arrows for fear of blowing up the whisky. It’s too precious to them,” Callum said with finality.

Like all Highland lodges, inside the walls resembled a self-contained village with all its own amenities. There were men who provided essential services: a smithy, a woodwork shed, skilled foresters who knew which trees would make fine and sturdy roof beams when they were cut down in forty years’ time—even stonemasons and farriers had once lived and worked within the lodge walls.

But over the years, the men who had wanted more from life than whisky and sleep had left the lodge, and now it was sorely understaffed.

Kirsty did not like the tone the two men were allowing their conversation to take.

“Come now!” she said. “We must dare to hope, gentlemen! All is not lost. That’s what me brither would say if he were here...”

She stopped talking, and her eyes drifted out of focus but then snapped back to attention suddenly.

“We are all fools for no’ thinking about this before! We must send word to me brither at once. He can march a troop of his men here to supplement and relieve our own force.”

Callum interjected, “What force? We have none.”

Dunn replied in a doleful voice, “And a man would have to ride day and night to reach Mac an Goill in time, and I don’ trust any of the men with such an important task. Cal’s still recovering from yer journey back here.”

The two Macanroys looked at Dunn with a gleam of hope on their faces. He saw their expressions and began to stutter, “Och, n-nay, it cannae be me! I’ll no’ be happy if I’m chosen to do such an important task. What happens if I get there too late or fail ye in some other way?”

Callum said, “It’s our only hope, Dunn. And Kirsty’s right. Her brither is the only man who can help us at this time.”

Kirsty tapped her chin, thinking hard. “The thing is—even saying Dunn could get to Mac an Goill in time—me brither would require an inducement of some kind to travel so far. Sending out a troop of soldiers for battle is no small undertaking, and he was that glad to see the back of me and be rid of all the scrapes I’d fall into. I have me doubts he would want to deal with any more. Plus, he would most likely just say ‘tis better if we hand over the secret to the whisky. What does he care if future Macanroys have the means to brew the receipt in the future or not?”

By the men’s restless energy, Kirsty could see they were already thinking of ways to solve the problem. Callum said, “He’ll care enough when it’s his own whisky secret the baron and Laird Duncombe are jeopardizing!”

Dunn and Kirsty’s jaws dropped. “What are ye sayin’, lad?” Dunn exclaimed. “That ye would consider handing over the secret to a rival?”

Callum held up his hands. “Nay, no’ a rival—me own brither-in-law and ally. As long as I’m clan to Gilbert through marriage, I’ll have access to brewing the whisky, so there’s no chance the Macanroys will fall on hard times if we give it up to the MacGills. He’s a strong and powerful—and might I add, energetic—enough laird to safeguard the secret forever.”

Silence fell over the three people in the library. Callum calculated the risks and decided there was nothing else they could do.

“Dunn,” he said, “make ready to ride to Mac an Goill before the noon bell rings out. I will give ye no letter. Just tell Laird Gilbert what’s to do here and offer him the receipt in exchange for his help. I guarantee ye that’s the only inducement he’ll need.”

Dunn bowed and walked out of the library, only stopping to give Kirsty a brief bow on his way to the door.

Kirsty and Callum slumped down on the chaise pushed up against the library wall.

“Ye ken, this is the first time I’ve ever sat down on this chaise and not had it kick up a cartload of dust into me face, Kirsty. Ye have really worked a miracle with the servants.”