Page 23 of Bound By Honor
“Nay. Too much can go awry. I do not know my brother’s plans for his bride but Morvern is close so we will sail to Ardtornish Castle and tarry there for the night.”
Understanding appeared on the faces of the crew and each man nodded.
They arrived into the Firth of Lorne late in the afternoon and then sailed up the coast of Lorne to the entrance to Loch Etive where the stone castle of Dunstaffnage sat on a promontory. To the west, across the firth, lay the Isle of Lismore, the seat of the bishopric of Argyll and MacDougall territory.
As the ship’s hull slid over the shingle beach, Angus looked up at the castle, a large stone fortress painted with yellow lime. It stood on a spit of land watching over the waters of the western seas. It had been built decades ago by Duncan MacDougall, Lord of Lorne, grandson of Somerled.
Many galleys were drawn up onshore, including those belonging to MacDougalls, flying a raven pennant. Three he recognized from the Galley of the Isles pennons as belonging to the Macdonalds.
Duncan paused to look at the three ships. “I expect your brother has brought Islesmen with him for more than just a celebration.”
“Aye,” said Angus, “I would hope so. ’Twould be the wise thing to do when wedding an enemy’s lass. Just being here gives me an uneasy feeling, as though we are entering the wolf’s den.”
They climbed to the top of the promontory where in front of the castle a large crowd had gathered. Villagers as well as nobles and clan chiefs had come for the wedding. The excitement in the air was tangible. Highlanders loved summer weddings as much as fairs. It was a chance to enjoy good food and drink and to be with those they might not see the rest of the year.
Angus was pleased the Macdonalds had come in force. From their waves to him, they were glad to see him as well.
Spotting his brother near the trees at one end of the grassy area, Angus strode to meet him. “Greetings, Brother.”
Dressed in his finery, Alex’s smile beamed his happiness. “I am glad you have come. You, too, Duncan. And Father?”
“He is unwell and asked me to stand in his stead. Mother remained behind to be with him.”
Alex’s brow furrowed. “I hope ’tis not serious.”
“I cannot say but I sail to Ardtornish from here and will soon know.” He did not want to admit to his brother that their father would not want to greet the Lord of Lorne except on a battlefield. Their older sisters were married and now lived with their husbands so they were not expected to attend. John, their younger brother, had remained at Ardtornish, per his father’s message. “And you, Brother? To where do you take your bride when the celebration is over?”
“I had thought to spend our first night here. Alexander MacDougall has given us the guest tower. Then I would sail to Islay tomorrow, though mayhap we’ll stay a night or two in Ardtornish on the way so that Father can meet Juliana.”
Angus did not try to dissuade his brother from his plans but decided to wait and see what developed.
“You never told me,” said Angus, “what was Juliana’s dowry?”
Alex’s smile was wide. “The Isle of Lismore.”
Taken aback, Angus nonetheless nodded his approval. “A prize to be sure.” Angus shifted his gaze to the isle whose name meant “Great Garden”. A small isle strategically located between Morvern and Argyll at the mouth of Loch Linnhe. He could not imagine the MacDougalls giving the seat of the Bishop of Argyll to the Macdonalds. “Why would the MacDougalls allow the Macdonalds to be so close?”
“To gain the future Lord of the Isles as husband for his daughter, the Lord of Lorne had to offer something of great value or his daughter would be shamed. Mayhap he prefers that to coin.”
Angus shot a sideways glance at Duncan. “Aye, mayhap.”
Just then, a piper struck up, turning all eyes on him and the couple that walked in his wake. Alexander MacDougall, Lord of Lorne and Argyll, a man in his fourth decade, strode forward with a lass on his arm. By her green silk gown, the wreath of yellow and white flowers on her head of long brown hair and the smile on her face as she gazed toward her intended, it was clear this was the beautiful Juliana. Following in their steps was a bevy of girls older than Juliana, each with a basket of flowers they scattered along the path.
Though he walked with pride, his chest jutting out beneath his dark red tunic that was nearly the color of his hair and beard, Alexander of Lorne looked none too happy. His clenched jaw spoke volumes to his men whose dour looks matched his own.
Angus’ brother left his side and crossed the swath of green to offer his arm to his bride, who happily took it. The two headed for the woods where, presumably, the chapel could be found. Alexander MacDougall and his family followed along with the guests, including Angus, Duncan and the other Macdonalds.
Dappled sunlight pierced the canopy of green to light the path through the woods. Every now and then, patches of sky could be seen where the trees gave way to a small clearing. As he walked along, Angus sought a word with Alex’s captain, Conall, a stern man who Angus knew to be a seasoned warrior and a good seaman. “I trust you have taken precautions should the MacDougalls have a mind to deny Juliana her husband this night.”
“Aye. We have. And more than enough men and weapons to see Alexander and his bride quickly away.”
Angus was pleased to hear it. “Assuming the lass has packed a chest, might I recommend your men load it on Alex’s ship and post a guard? Remember, Ardtornish is just a short sail down the Sound of Mull, should the need arise.”
“Aye, good idea. But should Alexander decide to stay the night, we will guard the tower assigned to him and Juliana, alert and ready to fight.”
“Your very presence may hold the wolves at bay. That and too much drink.” He looked up to where the sun’s rays were the brightest. “The sun will not set for many hours, providing ample time for the MacDougalls to drink their fill.”
The captain returned Angus a wry smile. “I am counting on it.”
