Page 15

Gwyn stayed within the kitchens during the entire evening ensuring the food was flowing freely and the wine and ale was aplenty.

Although she had not gazed beyond the hallway extending from the kitchens to the great chamber at any time since entering, by the clamor heard she could tell the room was completely filled with clansmen.

Not only were the guests all present, but many from the Chattan clan were in attendance.

That feat was quite startling, yet ever so comforting to her heart.

"Cumina!More bread!"

"Hurry, Gilda, get this tray out to the lads."

From what Gwyn could hear, she could tell they were all making quite merry and this warmed her immensely. She could never remember a time such as this in all the years she had lived among the Chattan. She also admitted it was long since past time for such gaiety.

As Gwyn was hurriedly slicing a deep yellow cheese, it was the youngest serving lass who burst into the kitchens and was rather breathless.

"M'lady! I never saw men eat so much! And de laird! He is getting angry because they are needing food an' more drink at his table!"

"And where is our girl Gilda? Wenna what is that lass up to?"

When the servant standing before her gazed up with fear within her eyes, Gwyn smiled almost joyfully as she took another tray from the sideboard.

Quickly, she began filling it generously with cheeses and pheasant and a healthy side of steaming mutton.

As she balanced the heaping tray upon her arm and grabbed a pitcher of ale from the sideboard, she spoke with near laughter upon her voice.

"Here, I will help. Alphina, please fill another tray immediately and send Wenna out with it before the clansmen within our gathering hall turn into an angry lot. I will try and locate our Gilda especially since there is so much to be done!"

Had she anything other than pleasing all the Highlanders in the hall on her mind she may have thought twice about the task she had just chosen. It was not until she had moved fully into the great chamber and realized most of the men were well into their cups.

The clansmen's raucous laughter and bawdy words nearly made her ears burn. Even still, her husband had instructed her she was to welcome her guests and keep them happy. She knew she must ensure they were all well fed and their cups never empty.

As the boisterous laughter and bawdy song filled the air, Gwyn lowered her gaze and made her way in the direction of the head table. More than anything she wished to please her husband. She so longed for his amicable ways of today, because when he became angry…

'As they were riding on alone,

They saw some pooks of hay,

O is not this a very pretty place

For girls and boys to play…'

Gwyn placed a smile upon her face as the words sung by most within the hall infiltrated her ears. Steadily, she made her way across the floor between the tables of zealous clansmen. As the laughter rang out, she felt the color upon her cheeks as the meaning of the lyrics became clear.

It was apparent the clansmen all around her were enjoying themselves.

As she gazed across the room, she noticed the serving girl named Wenna upon one of the McColl clansmen's lap.

She was smiling and laughing at the obvious attentions she was receiving.

Never before had Gwyn witnessed anything like this since their gathering hall had always been so quiet with hardly a clansman to be found.

With the exception of her own husband, of course.

"Och, you are such a fine one my little lassie!"

The men all around the maid hooted and she encouraged them on.

With a coy smile upon her face, Wenna turned and pressed herself up against the powerful Highlander's chest making her intentions quite evident.

As she slowly rubbed her generous breasts against him, it was obvious she was begging for his attentions.

Of course, the strong warrior complied. In front of all, he slowly lowered his head and kissed her deeply as the voice all around rose with appreciation.

Even though their actions were quite bold and intentions obvious it made Gwyn smile.

While she would concede there were better places for such goings on, it inspired joy.

And how she had missed when people would openly share their merriment.

Any part of it just seemed so pleasurable and so right compared to the uninspiring life she now lived.

That was until, the unexpected occurred.

As she made her way between a stand of tight tables and among a rather large grouping of men, the tray and pitcher of ale she was holding was suddenly ripped from her hands.

As she startled for this action, she was grasped around the waist and found herself set solidly upon a large clansman's lap.

Instantly, heavy arms encircled her waist and held her with such a tight hold she could barely breathe.

"Are ye not a fine one! Where have ye been hiding because I have not seen ye before now! I think I may keep this one fer my own!"

"Please!You mustn't!"

Before she knew what he was about, Gwyn felt as his arms shifted and he took her breast within his hand while he turned her upon his lap.

Hastily, he moved his head in close for what she knew to be a kiss.

Before she had a chance to sufficiently react, it was the booming voice of the laird that echoed loudly across the chamber stilling everyone from where they sat.

"Take your hands off my wife!"

The laird had stood and his face had taken on a darkened hue. Within that very second, the chamber took on an ominous hush as all eyes turned to where Gwyn now sat upon the McColl warrior's lap.

The lady of the Chattan could feel the arms of the warrior as they instantly released her and she nearly fell onto the floor in his haste. She was able to recover enough to stand as she looked back into the shocked eyes of the McColl. She whispered earnestly.

"Your name?"

He stared at her for only a moment as the blood drained from his face and the fear clearly registered. When he did not speak, it was his clansman sitting next to him who did so in a tone loud enough for only those near him to hear.

"Nachton is what he is called. Although by the look upon the laird's face he may now be called dead ."

Gwyn stood tall and almost had to bite her cheek at the humorous words from the McColl clansman.

She lifted her chin slightly as she shouted across the room.

It was imperative she ensure each of those present heard all of her words.

Or things could get ugly. She was determined to not let that happen on this night and especially on her account.

"My laird, your table was in need of food and drink and since all the servants were busy I attempted to help.

You know I can be a clumsy one and as I made my way next to this table, I stumbled.

I nearly landed upon the floor and could have done myself a harm.

Luckily, Nachton here rescued me and saved me from any injury.

And these kind clansmen recovered the entire tray of foodstuffs before they fell to the floor!

I was just thanking him for his quick actions! "

As the entire hall continued to remain silent and stared disbelieving at her, Gwyn bent over and placed her hand tenderly upon Nachton's shoulder. She then placed a kiss upon his cheek.

"Thank you most kindly. I am sure my husband would also like to extend to you his sincerest gratitude for your service. Would you not, my laird?"

With those bold words spoken, Gwyn looked up to her husband who showed nothing but iciness within his stare.

Without a doubt, she knew she had pushed him further then was necessary, but she realized she would do anything to preserve this night.

She must hold on to this new found gaiety that was gracing her hall.

Yes, in that very moment she realized it was just as much hers as it was her laird's home.

More than anything, she wished to embrace all that was around her and not allow it to wither away.

Regardless of what her husband thought. To make amends to the laird and not force it any further, Gwyn spoke once again to those all around as she grasped a nearly full cup of ale from the table.

"To Nachton!"

Immediately, she swung her cup to acknowledge her laird in the same breath.

"…and to the Laird Errol who has brought these fine warriors to live within our own! To the strength and life of the Chattan!"

"Here!Here!"

"Aye!"

As the clansmen all around her cheered and shouted their praises, Gwyn brought the cup of ale to her lips and drank heavily of the frothy liquid.

She continued to eagerly tip the cup until its entire contents were completely drained.

She placed a satisfied smile upon her lips as the gleeful roar around her resonated more fully in the chamber.

The laird was angry and he was no fool. He knew exactly what had happened within his gathering hall.

But if he were to be truly honest, he felt nearly bested by his wife.

She, who had been the one who was the thorn of all he had to bear and his constant reminder of his plight.

He nearly hated her for the misery and disruption she brought to his home these last many years.

Her father, the laird of the MacLaren, had no idea the pain he had inflicted with his request and what it took each day for him to see her within his home.

As he watched the Lady Gwyn eloquently address the situation and bring it under control, he realized she had quickly diffused what could have been a lethal situation.

Had she allowed him to continue with his anger, he knew there could have been bloodshed.

While the Lady Gwyn was his wife in name only, she was his, nevertheless.

He knew that if he did not show his control over her, he was unsure how all of these men would react.

As his gaze continued to rest upon the Lady Gwyn, even though she inspired a sense of loathsomeness each time she was near, he had a duty to protect her.

If he was nothing else in his sorry life, he was dutiful and would be until the day he died.

It was often and many times as of late Errol thought that day could not come soon enough.

As he looked at all those around him, he found himself tired.

He had nearly lost the will to keep fighting for this way of life and for the Chattan.

He simply felt as if the control was slipping through his hands and the ferociousness in which he fought in previous decades was no longer with him.

Nevertheless, he could not do that to the Chattan.

Nor could he do anything purposefully to harm his Philomena.

Philomena had been the one woman who had stood by his side for his entire adult life.

She was a sister to his late wife and had been the only one who could comfort him when she died.

While he felt nothing more than a warm tenderness for his first wife, after she was gone he felt so terribly alone.

Philomena had always been there for him and filled a void he did not know even existed.

And for that, he owed her greatly and would never forget all she had done and sacrificed for him.

"My laird, your man Balfour informs me your stables are quite healthy. I am anxious for you to show me your stock."

As the Laird Chattan returned to his seat and gazed into the face of his nephew, the room all around them once again returned to its rowdy state.

Absently, he thought to himself while he ruled with a strong fist, he often wondered if his men were truly loyal.

While they were a powerful lot, in recent times he never felt any sense of camaraderie nor of trust. Or at least any he could openly see and in the years as of late.

His clansmen performed their duties as expected, but that is where it all ended.

There was no warmth within them and certainly none within his own home and he knew he was to blame.

He also realized there was little he could do about it. Until recently, that was.

"That will be our first stop when you are awake upon the morrow. I will share with you, they are my pride!"

As the laird of the Chattan gazed across crowded chamber and heard the laughter of those within return to what it had been only minutes before, he realized he had maybe done something right for a change.

Perhaps bringing his nephew and his lot to his keep was exactly what they needed and would relieve him of some of his burdens.

The Laird Errol knew in his heart this could either be the best decision he had ever made or the one that would bring certain demise to them all. Either way, it would create change. The aging laird feared the Chattan would be forever lost to the world without it.