Highlander’s Honorable Oath (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 3
After a momentary silence, Gregory stood up from his seat and plodded before the elders. He took a bow before beginning his speech. “High Elder, I’m Gregory, a warrior of the clan that has fought with the Laird a thousand times. I have known him since he was a child, and I am most willing tae serve the Clan Glenbogle as a Laird. I shall discharge my duties and see tae our military strength and make sure that crofter and villager alike can remain braw, healthy, and protected from our enemies. I shall make a do tae unite the people when necessary and strengthen the keep,” Gregory said and returned to his seat after he had taken a bow.
Elder Gilbert nodded, searching the eyes of the council for suggestions. Some elders moved their mouths close to other elders’ ears and whispered incessantly. After what seemed like a long time, most of the elders gave a disapproving nod, nullifying the self-nomination of Gregory with claims that although Gregory was much experienced in battle and had been closer to the old Laird, his age was a factor that denied him the title. They wanted someone young, healthy, and capable of governing the affairs of the state, but until now, it remained a difficult task.
The day was moving fast as the sun, which had been high in the sky before the council meeting started, was now setting over the western horizon. The elders had grown tired and hungry, and naturally grumpier for having been kept from their repasts overlong,
A rotund man with pudgy cheeks stood from his position on the left side of the council table. “Greetings tae ye, O wondrous Elders!” he intoned in a grave voice, “I am Albert, forgive my silence, my stomach craves a helping for its rumbling. Should we remain here any longer without food tae fill our stomach, I sense nae progress will be made.” Bowing his head, he resumed his seat, folding his fat fingers on the table before him.
The other elders nodded approval. They had had enough already with no progress made. They had sent for Callum, but he had yet to arrive. It dawned on them that he might still be grieving. A few of the men yawned, showing how exhausted they were.
Elder Gilbert thought of Albert’s suggestion and nodded. He already knew Albert would never make any relevant suggestions other than to call for the bringing of food. How Albert became an elder remained a mystery to him. He couldn’t blame him for doing so now, for even he was hungry, and they must finish this business of choosing a laird today. He signaled to the pair of servants, and one after the other, the elders left the meeting room to repair to the hall where tables draped in gold cloth and creaking under mountains of fruits, cheese, smoked fish, and roast fowl had been arranged. Maids wandered to and fro with platters of foods in their hands, bringing them to the men in the room.
* * *
Elsewhere, Callum sat in the grass at the top of a hill, looking down on Glenbogle Keep. It had been two weeks since the funeral had been held, but memories of Fraser’s death and the tears on Ava and Gretchen’s faces still lingered in his mind. Even though tears again welled in his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile when he thought back on the days of his friendship with the Laird. He remembered the time that they had dueled for a limited golden-steel sword and a chuckle escaped him as he recalled the faux outrage on his friend’s face when Callum had raised his wooden sword victoriously.
He wondered what the world would think of where he now lived and the life he had created for himself. He glanced at the clouds and remembered the scroll the elders of the Council had sent to him. He had almost forgotten, and it dawned on him that if he chose not to attend, there was a high possibility that the elders would look unfavorably upon him for snubbing their summons. He sighed and rose to his feet. He’d better go see what the Council wanted of him. Climbing on his horse, he pressed his heels into its flanks and rode like the wind to Glenbogle Keep.
At the keep, servants and warriors alike welcomed Callum with the usual hugs and kisses before whisking him through to the great hall where everyone else was gathered. Disappointment twisted in his chest when he saw how well the table had been set for the high and mighty of the clan.
Tis like a do? How on earth this could happen when the town yet grieves?
When he made his presence known, Elder Gilbert offered him a seat at the high table and a plate of food, but while he accepted the chair, he declined to eat, mentioning he’d already eaten and apologized for his lateness for the meeting.
When the elders were done with the food, they returned to the meeting room. A look of disgust formed on Callum’s face as he saw Albert staggering about the place. He was obviously having a hard time walking due to the amount of food he had taken, and maybe too much drink, also.
The meeting commenced again, and the room was now quiet as the others settled into their seats. Elder Gilbert cleared his throat and made to speak.
“We have been here all day, and many suggestions and nominations have been made that due tae one reason or th’ other, have been discarded. Ye all shall have tae think of a solution as taeday must be the day we’d have a new laird,” Elder Gilbert said and eased himself back in his chair. Some moments after he spoke, a man who looked to be in his mid-fifties and had a white mustache sitting under his nose rose from his chair and made to talk.
“My humble greeting tae the Elders seated here. I am Elder Patrick. I have seen that previous nominations have met with nae agreement among us. We are looking for a man who has no ugly past, no bad books. A man who is skillful with the sword knows the art of warfare and is capable of leading. I have seen a man who had been a great friend tae the old laird and has fought alongside him in battles. He has the warriors at heart, the community in his mind, and a whole lot tae do for us. He’s a young, graceful man! I think you know who I have in mind,” Elder Patrick said, took a bow, and eased himself back to his seat.
Around the table, there were many approving nods and whispers of assent from everybody’s lips. Elder Gilbert flashed a glance at everyone with a smile on his face. He knew that the suggestion was a good one, if not the best so far. As it had been said, Callum was indeed a young and vibrant man who had fought in battles alongside the old laird. It was true he was the old laird’s best friend, and from him, he would have learned much ways of dealing with people. He was a skilled warrior and had a record of good deeds since. No ugly past.
All these Elder Gilbert put to mind and knew within him he was the right man for the post. But he wouldn’t be biased and take the law in his arms. He left the debate open to anyone who had a counter suggestion. Elder Alistair seemed to be the only one who wasn’t content with the nomination. He counted the votes, and the election turned out to Callum’s favor.
Elder Gilbert noticed the disappointed and helpless look on Alistair’s face as he looked around the room. He turned to look in Callum’s direction and saw the startled expression on his face. “May he not decline this offer,” he prayed silently. “Silence, Elders! I beckon Sir Callum, who has just been nominated tae present himself tae the noble Elders,” Elder Gilbert announced and waited.
The room, which had slipped into a grave silence turned swiftly into a noisy one with loud applause as Callum rose from his chair and approached the elders.
The elders and warriors in the room smiled as he stood at the front, gazing at everyone with a void expression on his face. “Sir Callum! Sir Callum!! Sir Callum!!!” the warriors chorused, singing songs of praise at Callum.
“Do ye have something tae say tae yer people? Do ye accept the lairdship offer, Sir Callum?” the Head Elder said, glancing at Callum who still stood with his hands clutched and pressed to his stomach. His face was still expressionless, and with that, he had kept everyone in suspense. The room became silent again as everybody wondered what his reply would be. Callum cleared his throat with a faint smile carved on his lips.
“I’m most grateful for the confidence you have in me, my lords. I shall discharge my duties as expected of me. I shall strengthen the security of the clan and protect us from invaders. Food and drink shall always be plentiful. I accept the offer,” Callum said quietly and took a bow.
/> A chorus of loud applause rang out, coupled with happy shouts from the warriors. Callum’s heart swelled with conflicting sentiments; pride that the elders had found him worthy, sadness that it had to happen at all, and above all else, determination to repay the trust the people had in him by discharging his duties perfectly. He knew as a laird; he was obligated to call for meetings, oversee the financial state of the clan holdings, its economic status, military strength, and the well-being of his people. It seemed too much for any one man to bear, but if his friend could do it, he could, as well.
He remembered Gretchen, and there he knew this could be his chance to give her and her daughter full protection. Whatever the case may be, he would need sleep and would start discharging his duties after he moved into the keep. The merriment continued with everyone basking in the aura of excitement while Callum — the newly elected Laird of Clan Glenbogle —stepped out. He would go and tell Gretchen the news.
He climbed his horse and rode to Gretchen’s home, which was some distance from the keep. Ever since she had lost Fraser, she had felt obliged to return to her lonely family home where she could avoid seeing the things that had belonged to Fraser, drawing back bitter memories.
* * *
Gretchen was standing by the well in front of her house, drawing out water into small molded bowls when she saw Callum’s favorite horse speeding toward her. She noticed he had grown a bit leaner, but fiercer when he got near. The huge smile he flashed her was enough to bring hope to shattered hearts. She welcomed him with a hug, and he reciprocated with a kiss on her left hand.
“Where goes my wee lass?” Callum said, glancing all around for the sight of Ava.
“Yer wee lass has gone to the neighbors to play. She should be back by tonight,” Gretchen replied, leading Callum to a nearby bench.
“I have such good news for ye, my lady.”
“Tell tae me the good news, Callum,” Gretchen resumed, gazing at Callum.
“I’ve been offered the lairdship of Clan Glenbogle. The council summoned me tae the meeting and offered me the title. I cannae disapprove of th’ offer. They have placed too much trust in me, and I cannae let them down,” Callum said, glancing away then back at her face as if he was unsure of her reception.
A faint smile formed on Gretchen’s face as she listened to him talk. Although his body had become leaner and harder, she noticed his manner of talking hadn’t changed. He still wore a smartly trimmed beard, and his hair still fell in flaxen curls over his shoulders.
“Tis a good thing, Callum! Haha!” she paused and laughed “I shall call you my laird now! Haha! Do nae let the people down. Ye are a kindly man. This, I know. May God be with ye.” Gretchen laughed softly again.
* * *
Callum stumbled into deep thoughts of how he’d ask Gretchen to move to the keep, for her protection and that of her daughter, of course. But what if she found out that he just wanted her to be close to him?
What if she still grieves for her husband and declines the offer? What if she finds the offer too fast and too kind? What if she agrees?
These were his thoughts as he bowed his head, tilting his sideways as he watched her. Perhaps he needed to wait for the right time and throw the offer at her when she wouldn’t be able to decline it. He stared at her again, the only lady he had ever loved. He still saw the grief on her face, yet he saw some mild affection there, too, hidden in her beautiful green eyes.
A grief that knows no end yet a love that can heal all wounds.
Chapter Three
Barely two months had passed since Callum had been appointed Laird of Clan Glenbogle, and already, keep procedures had started to change. Among these changes were rank promotions for some of the exceptional warriors in the clan’s army. For instance, Gregory was promoted to captain. It had dawned on Callum that for him to succeed in governing in the affairs of the clan, he had to be a friend to people who were likely to be his enemy. Although he was not at the council meeting when Gregory nominated himself for the lairdship, Elder Patrick had told him about it after the bonnet had been received. He knew that Gregory’s pride was likely hurt, and this pain might make him look on Callum as an enemy and rival. He also knew that Alistair, who had nominated someone else, might also be nursing unhealthy malice for him. Whatever the case, he’d instead form a good alliance with them both than have them become enemies who might hinder his plans to improve the clan’s health and prosperity. Both men had become his close friends and offered him good advice in the administration of the keep’s affairs.
Callum had recruited many willing youths to the clan’s military and willing women to the become harvesters, gardeners and cleaners, all of which had reduced unemployment and vices within the clan’s borders. It wasn’t that Fraser had performed poorly as laird before his death; there had been many battles fought then, and there hadn’t been time for him to discharge all the duties expected. All this Callum had put into consideration and had decided to fix it as soon as possible.
Many weapons had been produced for the military strength of the clan. Intense military training had started, and Callum joined in it with his warriors. At first, whenever he and Gregory sparred, Gregory’s more considerable experience trumped Callum’s youthful vigor, and Callum ended up on his back in the dirt more times than he’d like. But after a while, he was able to learn Gregory’s moves, and eventually, he took Gregory by surprise, and he was the one looking up at Callum from the ground in stunned amazement. This led to loud applause and roars of laughter from the other warriors.
“Do rise to yer feet, Sir Gregory! Ye fight so skillfully, and it took me a while tae master yer fighting wits,” Callum said, switching his wooden sword to his left hand and offering his right to help the other man up.
“Ye are the graceful Laird. Yer witty fighting shall help me grow. I might have lots tae learn, still,” Gregory huffed and grinned, accepting Callum’s hand and allowing him to pull him to his feet. The day was slipping into night, and the bright orange sun was already dipping behind the western hills. The warriors were now covered in sweat and smelled of horse. It was a good training day.
* * *
Gretchen glanced in her pantry and discovered that she was missing some staples. She would go to her farm and fetch some funds from her safe, and then she would go to the market in the village and buy some things. Since Fraser’s death, people often came to visit her, and she always liked to have something prepared to offer them. Today might be different, but she wasn’t willing to take a bet.
She worried about what the coming winter would bring her and Ava. Ava had been sick recently, and she had spent much of her time caring for her. She hadn’t seen Callum in many days. She understood that he was likely busy with the responsibilities of his new position, and she had heard that he was doing well but was under a lot of stress. She had hoped to visit him one day, and maybe prepare something for him or bring along some fruits for him, but she had been busy, too.
“Ava!” she called, “Yer food has been set on the table, do feed yerself well. I will nae be long.” When the little girl appeared, she patted her on the back and smiled before leaving their small home.
Ava was growing at a fast rate; she would be six in a year to come, yet she had been smart enough to understand her father’s death and had been of great help to her mother. Sometimes, she’d help her pack firewood for the night and help carry farm products on her little head. Gretchen silently blessed God and the clan members for their survival. She wouldn’t have survived if the neighbors had not offered her food provisions and enough land for her to farm and harvest a little produce for herself and her daughter and a few to sell. But winter was coming, and she couldn’t keep hoping for help from neighbors. She needed to find a job where she could earn enough to feed herself and her daughter. Right now, she would go to the farm and see how much she had saved in her box.
Gretchen walked by instinct because her mind was crowded with thought. She left the road where it turned north at the
corner of the forest of dark bushes and cut through a path worn by her own feet. She followed the path until she reached a thick clump of bushes. From a hidden hole dug beside a tree, she took a key that unlocked the padlock of a large, rusted metal box that she took from within a knot in the tree trunk. Fear crept up her spine as she noticed the box did not make the usual noise of metal clanging in the inside. She quickly inserted the key into the padlock and swung open the lid. A trickle of hot tears ran down her face. The box was empty. The box had held all her savings from selling the meager amount of produce she had managed to grow and had been filled to the brim when she’d last come to add coin to it.
Who could have stolen the savings she had relied on for sustenance during the coming winter? Many other questions hung in her mind. There were no footprints here, no other person but she knew where the box was.