High on a Mountain (17 page)

Mùirne made the broth and brought it to
Ailean. He sipped a little at a time throughout the day until it
was gone. The next day, Mùirne made broth again, and Brìghde told
her to put bits of vegetables and sprinkles of grain in it, and
mash them to spread them through the liquid.

Ailean did well with the liquid nourishment
and gained strength. In a few days, he was able to get out of bed
and sit on his chair by the fire for a little while.

But after another week passed, although
Ailean grew stronger day by day, he couldn’t yet do any of his
usual chores. Coinneach recovered faster than Ailean but had
occasional set-backs. Sometimes debilitating headaches kept him
indoors and in bed for a day or more at a time. With the two of
them incapacitated, the majority of the work load had to be carried
by Aodh and Niall, with help from the women and children.

____________

Aodh abandoned the planned cattle drive. Even
if his sons were well enough, and even if his neighbors were home
to help, it would be far too dangerous. He learned the Cambeuls
were supporting King George II and had taken up arms against
Prionnsa Teàrlach and his Jacobite supporters. Clan Cambeul had
also opposed the Jacobites during the rising of 1715, when Aodh
fought at Sheriffmuir.

The lands of Clan MacLachlainn on the
southeastern shore of Loch Fyne were surrounded by Clan Cambeul
territory. Latharn Cambeul’s tack lay to the northeast, and other
tacksmen held tracts to the east and south. Since driving the
cattle to market would entail crossing land held by those Cambeul
tacksmen, the normally risky venture was now impossibly dangerous.
For the time being, Aodh decided his only option was to do his best
to maintain the daily chores that all the men usually shared.

Aodh worried about the loss of money. And he
was distressed, because he knew many of the cattle he could have
sold for profit would likely die during the cold winter months on
the Highland hills. He debated with himself whether the cattle at
the
airigh
should be brought down before the weather turned
cold. If they were left there, they might stray so far they
couldn’t all be rounded up again. They would be prey to theft, or
they could starve to death in the cold weather.

But if he brought them down, the scanty
grazing on the croft would consign all the cattle to starvation.
Aodh finally resigned himself to the loss, but he worried how,
without the funds from the sale of their cattle, he and his
neighbors could raise the yearly rent money they paid to
Ruairidh.

____________

Within a few more weeks, Ailean appeared to
be fully recovered, but only he knew that he did not yet have his
full strength. He pitched in and helped with the work as best he
could. He tried to shoulder his share of the responsibilities even
when he felt tired and weak.

But more troubling to him than his physical
weakness were the flashes of memory that plagued him. At times, he
saw the faces of the men he had attacked with his sword on the
battlefield. Ailean knew he had done his duty, yet he regretted the
wounds and death he had inflicted on the
Sasunnach
soldiers.
His inner conflict tormented him, kept him from resting at night
and slowed his recovery.

One morning, Ailean felt strong enough to
climb to his favorite place on the mountain. He desperately needed
the solace which always awaited him there, and he craved the
tranquility that bathed his heart each time he viewed the beautiful
vistas of his home from the heights. Surely if he could sit on his
rock and think things through, he could sort it all out, could make
sense of it, could find absolution for what he had done.

When he arrived at the top of the mountain,
he was exhausted and panting. The freshening breeze brought a
wintry chill that erased the slight warmth of the sun’s rays, and
Ailean shivered. He loosed the upper folds of his clothing from his
brooch and pulled the fabric over his head and shoulders to shield
himself from the cold wind.

Ailean drank in the beautiful scenery spread
below. Sunlight sparkled on the wind-tossed waters of the sea loch;
clouds dragged their shadows over the hills and glens below and
slid across the water to the other shore. It was a scene that
always had the power to calm his soul and make him forget his
troubles. But this day, he couldn’t find contentment.

Battlefield screams echoed from his memory of
the morning at Gladsmuir. A vision of a scarlet-coated soldier’s
face, twisted in pain, overlaid the view of the croft below. His
throat tightened, and he couldn’t swallow; a sickening pressure
squeezed his chest and made it hard to breathe. Ailean buried his
face in his hands, tried to slough off the leaden weight of guilt.
He raised his head, mouth clamped shut, teeth grinding, and looked
heavenward, silently pleading heaven’s forgiveness for the
suffering and death he’d caused.

The eastern sky birthed a bank of clouds
which grew, swirled and pushed their way across the sky. Gray
fingers of overcast blocked the sun, darkened the green of the
trees below and stripped the life and color from the waters of the
loch. It became a sullen ribbon of gray that stretched toward the
west, bounded by the folds and pleats of hills and glens confining
it.

He relinquished his fruitless search for
inner peace and started down the mountainside to Mùirne. Her love
had served as a soothing balm to his soul, as her care helped him
recover from his physical wound. But even in her arms, he could not
find healing of mind.

As the winter weather grew colder, Mùirne’s
body grew larger and her condition became apparent. Ailean tried to
focus his thoughts on the joy of having a new little one, a brother
or sister for Coinneach-òg. The anticipation became one small,
bright part of his life.

TWENTY-ONE

They ate supper in silence. Even Coinneach-òg
remained subdued and withdrawn. Mùirne watched Ailean as he ate,
his eyes averted, shoulders hunched.

I have to find out what’s wrong, why he
won’t talk to me. I wonder what I’ve done to make him so cold to
me. Maybe if I could get him to talk to me about something,
anything, things would be better.

“How was Coinneach today? Is he better?” she
asked.

Ailean grunted in reply.

She drew in a breath. “You’ve never told me
about the battle. What was it like? What happened.”

A flash of unfathomable emotion Mùirne
couldn’t decipher replaced the faraway look in Ailean’s eyes. He
stood, set his bowl on his chair and strode out the door.

Mùirne couldn’t finish her meal. She put
Coinneach-òg to be early, finished her nightly chores and lay
across the bed. After a while, she pulled the blanket over her
shoulders and stared into the semi-darkness, unable to relax and
fall asleep.

She dozed finally and the scrape of the door
opening woke her. She heard it close, heard the bar lowered into
place. And felt Ailean’s presence when he lay on the bed next to
her.

She turned toward him, pulled herself close
to his chilled body, and he gathered her into his arms. She’d felt
secure in those strong arms throughout their marriage, but now
Ailean needed to feel safe, needed a refuge, and Mùirne couldn’t
provide it, no matter how she tried. They lay together, silent and
awake, unable to penetrate the unseen barrier between them.

The next day, it was Una’s turn to herd the
sheep. Mùirne and Brìghde stayed by the fire in Brìghde’s cottage,
carding wool and spinning. The men were busy with their chores, and
the children were playing outside. Mùirne decided to confide in her
mother-in-law.

“I…I don’t know what’s wrong between Ailean
and me, but, things have been…different since he came home. Has
there ever been a time that was…a time when things were not right
between you and Da Aodh?” She didn’t know how to ask Brìghde what
she wanted to know.

Brìghde hesitated, then replied without
looking up, “Has he talked to you about the battle?”

“No. He’s never said a word. I finally asked
him about it last night, and he walked out of the house. He stayed
out in the cold by himself for a long time and—”

“That’s what is troubling Ailean. He has to
come to peace within himself about it.”

“Why? What happened?”

“You’ll have to let him tell you.”

“But he won’t. He won’t talk about it at
all.”

Brìghde laid her carding combs on her lap and
looked at her daughter-in-law’s worried face. “This sometimes
happens to men when they are in battle. They can’t get over the
regret they feel about killing other men.”

“He’s troubled about the fighting?”

“Aye.”

“But he did his duty and fought. Didn’t
he?”

“Aye, and fought well, his Da said. But it
plagues his mind, he suffers over it.” Brìghde stared into the fire
silently for a few moments before speaking again. “Battle affects
men in different ways. I know my son. Ailean will think about it,
and he’ll find a way to make peace with himself.”

She looked into Mùirne’s eyes. “You must be
patient. He probably won’t ever be the same as he was, but he will
find peace.”

A pang of pity brought an ache to Mùirne’s
throat and blurred her eyes.
I’ll do what I can to help him get
over this. If it means being patient, I’ll try to be
patient.

____________

One afternoon Aodh was on his way to the barn
and heard a voice call, “Hello, the house.”

Aodh turned to see who approached, his hand
on the hilt of his sword. Fearghus MacLachlainn emerged from the
woods, riding one of Ruairidh’s horses.

“Ah, Fearghus. It’s good to see you. Come
inside and warm yourself.” Aodh led the way to his cottage.

“Thank you. I will. It’s bitter cold out
today.” Fearghus dismounted and tied his horse to a rowan tree by
Aodh’s cottage.

They went inside and sat by the fire.

“So, you are home from the army? Will the
others be coming home soon?” Aodh asked. He was anxious to hear
news of his neighbors.

“I doubt if anyone else will be home any time
soon. Ruairidh just sent me to get a few things,” Fearghus said.
“And he told me to see how Ailean and Coinneach are, to see if they
are well enough to return to the army.”

“Ailean is doing some better, but he’s not
well enough to fight. And Coinneach, he still has headaches so bad
he can’t get out of bed some days,” Aodh said, the lines deepening
around his eyes as he thought of his two sons.

“Sorry to hear that.” Fearghus shook his head
sympathetically. He took a breath and said, “You and Niall will
have to return to the army soon.”

“I expected to be called back.” Aodh stared
into the fire. “Do you have any news of the other men?”

“They’re all well.”

“Ah, they’re well. Good. Thank you, Fearghus,
you’ve eased my mind. I’ve been worried.” Aodh paused for a moment
before continuing. “So, Niall and I are to go back to the army.
Where is it now? The last word I had was that Prionnsa Teàrlach was
going into England.”

“I can only tell you what I know, and that is
very little. The army has returned from England. But we
MacLachlainns didn’t go with it. Prionnsa Teàrlach sent us to Perth
to recruit more men for his army. And, of course, none of us but
the chief can do that. They should let the rest of us come home,
but…”

“Hmmm,” Aodh said, noncommittally. He didn’t
want to offend his guest, but even more than that, he didn’t want
to say anything disloyal to the chief.

He noticed Fearghus had lost a considerable
amount of weight.

“Will you stay and have a bite to eat with
us?” Aodh asked.

“I wish I could. But I have to start back
soon. I just had to deliver the message.”

“Of course.”

Throughout the evening after Fearghus’ visit,
memories of happier times came unbidden. Aodh closed his eyes and
saw his sons as young boys, running, laughing, playing. He could
hear them calling: “
Daidein
, look at this!” “
Daidein
,
watch me!” “Da!” “Da!”

Now, everything had changed. Coinneach wasn’t
well, might not ever be well and whole again. Ailean was recovering
physically, but he was troubled in his soul. And Niall, well, his
Niall was going back to the army, back into danger.

Aodh’s shoulders sagged under the heavy
burden of his cares.

Why? Why did things have to be this way? He
rubbed a hand over his face, wishing he could rub away all his
worries, wishing he could make everything all right again.

____________

“Hello, the house.”

Aodh looked up from his work repairing a
flail that had broken during threshing and saw Gabhran MacEòghainn
and Boisil MacLachlainn and their sons coming down the path. Aodh
hurried to meet them, his mouth stretched in a heartfelt smile of
greeting. The boys went on to their homes, but the men stopped to
talk to Aodh.

“It’s good to see you. How is it that you’ve
come home?” Aodh asked.

“We heard the Argyll Militia was active, and
we got worried. Ruairidh let us come home to check on our
families,” Boisil said. “But he said you and Niall are to come back
right away. Coinneach and Ailean, too, if they’ve recovered
enough.”

“They haven’t.” Aodh stroked his beard. “I
suppose Niall and I had better get ourselves ready to leave.” He
started for the barn, but turned back. “I’ve tried to get
everything done, but there are still some other things that need to
be taken care of before the worst of the cold weather gets
here.”

“We’ll see to it,” Gabhran MacEòghainn
said.

“I didn’t bring the cattle at the
airigh
down. They may freeze up there or wander away, but if
we bring them down with the others, they all might starve. And
there’s no way to drive them to market now. I didn’t know what else
to do, so I just left them where they are.”