When Fate Dictates

  I stared at the two men as they stood face to face. Duncan, fists clutched, shaking and red-faced, Simon, stock still, hands by his side, calm and composed. I waited, praying that Simon would see sense and stop the fight. But he just stood there, watching as Duncan fought with the instinct of his youth. Small trickles of blood seeped through Duncan’s fingers as his nails pierced the skin of his palm. I wanted to go to him, to hold him and comfort him, to let him know that we loved him. Suddenly the stalemate ended. Duncan turned from his father and stormed from the room. I heard the front door slam shut.

  Hysterically I ran at Simon, pounding his chest with my fists, as tears streamed down my face. “What have you done?” I begged. “He is our son. Why Simon, why did you have to bring the Highlanders here?” I fought wildly as he grabbed my fists and held me at arm’s length. “I hate you,” I shouted, swinging my leg at him in the hope that my foot might connect with his shin.

  He stared at me, his look menacing and cold. “We will leave tomorrow morning, without the boy, make sure you pack light.”

  “Simon you can’t fight in a battle, you will not live through another gunshot wound. Have you forgotten that?” I cried.

  He turned to face me. “You know damn well that I haven’t forgotten,” he said, his voice little more than a whispered growl, his face grave and dangerous. “But what you forget, Corran is that all that makes me is a man. No different to any other man on a battlefield, and I would rather fight as a man and die, than live as a coward.”

  “Then stand and fight me, cousin.”

  “Oh dear God,” I said as I turned my head to the recognition of Angus Campbell standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Get out, Corran, go now and don’t come back, not for anything,” Simon said, pushing me roughly away. His eyes were fixed on the man in the doorway. “Let her go Angus. Your argument is with me, not the girl.”

  The man did not move, his eyes locked on Simon’s.

  “Oh, but Simon you are wrong there.”

  “Oh aye?” said Simon, raising his eyebrows above his dangerously dark eyes.

  “The girl lied to me in York.”

  “You had just shot her husband and had threatened to kill her, what did you expect she would do?”

  I felt my body shaking as I stood, sandwiched between the two men.

  “Drop that pistol and let her go,” Simon growled.

  “Sit down, woman,” Angus said, waving the pistol in the direction of a chair.

  I looked up across at Simon. He shook his head. But I backed up toward the chair anyway, not taking my eyes off Angus, I slowly sat.

  “No, Corran, don’t listen to him,” Simon warned.

  “It’s alright Simon.”

  “How did you find me?” Simon asked.

  The red-haired man smiled; a malicious, devil induced smile.

  “Oh, cousin, you don’t know me at all, do you?”

  “I know you well enough Angus,” Simon replied under his breath.

  The red-haired man reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask. Emptying its content into his mouth, he lifted his arm and wiped it roughly across his mouth.

  “Do you want some?” he said, throwing the flask at Simon. He did not move to catch it. His eyes stayed fixed on Angus.

  “No, Angus. It will be a cold day in Hell before I share a drink with you.”

  “I know your secret, Simon,” he whispered dangerously.

  “Aye, cousin, and I know yours,” replied Simon, calmly pulling his dirk from its belt. “The question is Angus; was Dundee your first? And was York mine?”

  “What makes you think I don’t know the answer?” said Angus.

  “If you knew for sure, you would have pulled that trigger by now,” said Simon. “But if you pull that trigger and I don’t die, then you know that I will slit your throat, just as I did in Dundee.”

  I shot Simon a look, realizing he had lied to me in Dundee. The pistol was steady in the man’s hand as he pointed it at my husband; I held my breath, watching as the two men faced each other.

  “Go on then cousin, pull the trigger, and let’s see if I die.”

  “Aye, Simon that is what our father said... before I shot him.”

  I watched as the color drained from Simon’s face and his hand tightened on the handle of the dirk. “Our father?” he growled. “Duncan wasn’t my father.”

  “Oh aye, little cousin... oh, did I say cousin? Silly me, it’s brother, not cousin,” he said, a smirk crossing his mouth. “Did you not know then?”

  “You know damn well I didn’t know. Where did you get this nonsense from?”

  “The horse’s mouth... so to speak,” he said, as he threw his head back and laughed.

  “Make sense man,” Simon shouted.

  “I wouldn’t think you are in any position to be ordering anything of me,” Angus said, his face twisted and dark. “But, as I can’t wait to see your reaction when I tell you, just this once, I will do as you ask,” he paused, his eyes filled with the devil. “Your ma was quick enough to tell the truth when I had the pistol at our father’s head.”

  Without warning, Simon launched himself at Angus. I sprang from the chair, throwing myself in front of the pistol. “No, Simon!” I shouted my eyes locked on Angus. Facing the red-haired man, I raised my hand to the pistol and covered the open end of the barrel with my palm, gently pulling it into the centre of my abdomen. “If you are going to fire that pistol at him, then you are going to have to do it through me,” I whispered through clenched teeth. The red-haired man laughed and pulled the pistol away, waving it erratically in the air.

  “You foolish woman... you would die for a... bastard,” he choked. He lifted his head and met Simon’s eyes. “And you, my blood brother, who hides behind a woman. Aye, the bastard has the weakness of his father.”

  “Move, Corran,” Simon whispered, dangerously. “I have unfinished business with this man.”

  Slowly, I slid my free hand into the pocket of my skirt. I could feel the cold, sharp edge of the metal dirk. I lifted my eyes to the man in front of me. The height difference is going to be my biggest challenge, but if I could only get behind him... I thought as my mind raced. I frantically calculated my chances of getting the dirk to his throat.

  “Do as he says, woman. Move! Your husband isn’t the only one with unfinished business.”

  “Listen to him Corran, he won’t think twice about firing the pistol through you.”

  “Aye, perhaps, but I can see only one barrel on this pistol. If it is you he wants, he won’t waste his shot on me,” I said, with more confidence than I felt.

  “The question is; can I reload it quicker than you can cross the room, little brother?”

  “Fifteen seconds if my memory serves me right Angus? Oh aye, I think we both know I will reach you quicker than that.”

  Behind the man with the pistol appeared my son. Duncan’s eyes met mine and I held his look, trying desperately to warn him. I shook my head frantically as he opened his mouth to speak.

  “Father...”

  Angus swung around to face the boy, the pistol fired and my son fell. I ran toward him. Simon was behind me, his dirk raised, charging at his brother. Angus leapt over the body and fled, Simon following him.

  I dropped to the floor beside my son and watched as the blood drained from his heart. The room swayed and I fought to focus, realizing, too late, that I was about to faint.

  ******

  CHAPTER 28

  I could hear my husband’s muffled distant voice as I slowly raised my eyelids to the light of the room. “Where is he?” I demanded, fighting to sit up. Someone had hold of my arm and was pushing me down. “No, Mrs. Lamont, you must lie down.” Turning my head I put a face to the voice. “Eilidh, where is Duncan?” I shouted.

  “Shh, please Mrs. Lamont, he is alright.”

  “Alright? Don’t be so silly girl, I saw him myself, shot through his heart, he is dead Eilidh... dead. Now let me sit up.”

&n
bsp; The girl let go of my arm and helped me up. “Where is his body? Tell me Eilidh?”

  “I am here ma.”

  I looked up to see Duncan staring down at me, the front of his shirt stained with blood. “But... how Duncan? What happened and where is your father?

  “Don’t worry lass,” echoed the familiar sound of my husband’s voice. “I am still here.”

  “Then what happened? Will someone please tell me what is going on?”

  “There isn’t time now Corran; explanations will have to wait.”

  “It’s alright Mr. Simon, I will tell Mrs. Lamont.”

  He nodded, “Alright, lass,” he turned to face his son. “Duncan, go and get Thomas Fraser, don’t tell him anything, just bring him straight here. Oh and change your shirt boy, it looks like someone just died in it.”

  “Alright pa, will you be alright on your own?”

  “Aye, just go lad and be fast about it.”

  “I will be back before Duncan is. Don’t leave the house, either of you,” said Simon.

  I pulled myself up off the kitchen floor and reached for a chair. Eilidh sat opposite me, pushing Simon’s mug of whisky from earlier in my direction. “Here Mrs. Lamont, you will need this.”

  “Tell me Eilidh, what is going on?” I asked, confused.

  “He killed my parents, Mrs. Lamont,” she said so softly I could hardly hear her.

  “Dead?” I stared at her in shocked horror.

  “Eilidh, how and why?”

  “It was the man, Mrs. Lamont, the one who looks like Duncan. He came to our house, looking for Mr. Simon but my pa wouldn’t tell him anything. I was outside the cottage, in the garden, but I heard him in the cottage. I crouched underneath the window and saw him with his gun. I heard him shouting at my pa to tell him where Mr. Simon was and then I ran to find you, Mrs. Lamont, but you weren’t in the fields, nor was Mr. Simon, so I headed back to the house to tell you. But when I got here, you had fainted and Duncan was laid on the floor, covered in blood. Then he suddenly sat up and Mr. Simon came in all covered in blood and saw me and he told me my parents are dead.” Great rivers of tears ran down her face as she sobbed progressively louder and louder. I reached across the table and took her hand in mine, willing her to find strength in my touch.

  “I am so sorry Eilidh,” I whispered, “They were good people, your ma and pa.”

  “I don’t understand, Mrs. Lamont. Who was that man and why did he want to hurt us?”

  I shook my head sadly. “He is a Red Coat, Eilidh. A bad man, and he doesn’t care who he hurts.”

  “What I also don’t understand is how did Duncan survive? Even you thought he had died, but then he just got up, a bit confused, but strong and healthy, not even a groan from the pain of the wound.”

  “Eilidh, there are things in life we sometimes just have to accept, even though we don’t understand them, and I think this is just one of those things.”

  I heard the front door open and turned my head sharply to see who it was. “You scared me, Simon.”

  “Sorry, Corran, I don’t mean to. Are you both alright?”

  I frowned, thinking sadly that it would be a long time before Eilidh would be alright again. “Aye, we are fine, where is Duncan?”

  “I don’t know exactly but I expect he is on his way back to the house with Thomas,” he replied.

  “What do you mean you don’t know? Angus could be outside this minute, watching us.”

  “No Corran, he is not here now but that doesn’t mean he won’t come back. We are leaving here now and Eilidh is coming with us.”

  “How can you be so sure he has gone?”

  “Because I stabbed him, in the shoulder with my dirk and he made a run for it. Bloody man didn’t even have the decency to give the knife back to me before he ran off like a frightened child.”

  The sound of the door opening again caused us all to cast a wary glance in its direction, but it was only Duncan with Thomas.

  “Simon, whatever is the matter?” Thomas asked as Duncan ushered him into the kitchen.

  “Sit down my good friend I have something I must tell you.”

  “Eilidh’s parents are both dead. It was the Red Coats, but they came for me, not Connor and Shonagh. Corran and I need to leave here, now. I have left the papers in the office, signing the farm over to you and Miriam.”

  “Don’t go Simon, we can fight this together,” objected Thomas.

  “No, my friend, I must go.” Simon held his hand out. “Here, take the key to the office. Give us until midnight and what I leave is yours. Take care of it Thomas and take care of yourself and Miriam,” he said, patting his old friend affectionately on the back.

  “And you Simon. Wherever it is you are going, I bid you a safe journey.”

  Once Thomas had left the room Simon turned to Duncan. “Son, today you grow up. Gather the strongest four horses and saddle them, hitch two of them to the cart and bing it up to the house. I will meet you outside. Corran and Eilidh, we don’t have much time. Pack up some crates with what you think we will need and arrange some food and drink.” Turning to face me he took my hand in his. “Corran, I am sorry. Sorry for wanting to take you into war, sorry for nearly destroying our family and sorry that it is my blood that has brought this trouble to our door.”

  I squeezed his hand in mine. “It doesn’t matter my love. All that matters now is that we get away before he finds us again. Eilidh and I will be ready.”

  ******

  CHAPTER 29

  “Simon, where are we going?” I whispered as he helped me onto the cart.

  “I honestly don’t know, Corran. We need to get out of Scotland but I am not sure which way General Mackintosh has gone. The border will be crawling with soldiers. When the general was here, he couldn’t make up his mind whether to head into England or back to Edinburgh. If I am not careful we will end up in the middle of the rebellion. I think we should head toward Berwick and cross the border around there.”

  “Where do you think Angus is?”

  “He won’t be far, Corran, and he will follow us, but I am prepared, don’t worry.”

  “You know if I had a penny for every time you had told me not to worry I would be a very wealthy woman right now.”

  I felt more than saw his smile, as he reached up to the cart and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

  “Keep safe wee Corran,” he said, laying a pistol on my lap. “Come on Duncan,” he called, handing his son another pistol. “On your horse, lad, it’s time to get these ladies safely out of here.”

  “You alright Eilidh?” I asked, glancing across at the shadowy figure of the girl sitting next to me in the cart.

  “Aye, Mrs. Lamont.”

  “Eilidh, do me a favor?” I asked. “Please stop calling me Mrs. Lamont?”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, lass, don’t be sorry. It’s just that you are not a little girl anymore. I would like to be your friend.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Lamont... I mean Corran,” she said. “I would like very much to be your friend too.” With that I clicked the reins and the horses pulled us gently forwards, down the hill beside our home and out onto the open road. Simon moved his horse behind the cart and Duncan set out in front of us. We kept our pace steady and calm but all four of us knew he was out there, somewhere in the darkness of the night, just waiting and watching. We did not stop until we were well clear of Berwick and then, it was only to rest the horses. Tiredness pulled at my eyes and I rubbed my forehead in an effort to ward off sleep.

  “Corran, it might help if you eat something,” said Eilidh, handing me a stick of dried meat.

  “Thank you sweet, but I am not hungry. I am sure Simon and Duncan won’t say no. Let them have it.”

  “Did I hear the mention of food?” said Duncan, moving swiftly toward Eilidh. I smiled to myself, thinking that some things never changed.

  Simon came up behind me and put his arms around my waist. “You alright lass?”

  “Aye,” I said,
simply.

  “Have you had something to eat?”

  “No, I am not hungry. Where the bloody hell is he, Simon?” I asked, staring at the road ahead.

  “I don’t know, Corran, but he will come back, of that I am certain.”

  I watched as our son and Eilidh shared a flask of whisky, his red hair sparkling in the sunshine.

  “Do you see it Simon?” I asked.

  “Aye, Corran, I do now,” he replied. “Thank God he has taken after his grandfather and not his father.”

  “Are we going to tell him?”

  “Aye, I think we should,” he said.

  “When?” I asked.

  “Tonight,” he finished, moving his arms from around my waist. “Come on, we need to get moving.”

  That night we set up camp on the side of the road. Simon and Duncan had a small, warming fire going in no time and Eilidh and I set about rationing the food we had brought with us. I settled next to Simon, on a rock near the fire, and watched as the flames hungrily fed off a piece of wood.

  “Mr. Simon, how can we sleep when we don’t know if that man is going to come for us?” Eilidh asked.

  “Don’t worry Eilidh. Me and pa and are going to take turns sleeping. We won’t let any harm come to you or ma.”

  I smiled across at my son, so grown up and unafraid. I hated what we had to tell him but he had the right to the knowledge.

  “Duncan,” said his father. “There is something I need to explain to you.”

  The boy looked across the flames of the fire at his father, his eyes suddenly serious.

  “What pa? What is wrong?”

  I held out my hand to Simon and he took it, squeezing it gently for strength.

  “How much do you recall from when you were shot?”

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don’t know really. It is all a bit of blur. One minute I was looking at the back of the man with red hair and then I saw his face, very briefly, before the shot hit me and I fell to the floor. I had a dream though,” he said, rubbing his hands through his hair. “That a great highland stag with silver antlers was at my side. It nudged me gently and encouraged me to wake. But that is really all I recall.”