Page 23 of Highlander’s Fruit of Eden

The Last Grip of Power

“ Y e wanted to see me, me Laird.” Angus stopped dead as he entered the room. “Are ye well, me Laird? Ye dinnae look so good.”

“What business of that is yers?” asked Vincent. He could feel himself swaying with the effects of the whisky, but it was the only thing keeping his anger subdued and managing his stress levels.

“Nay, I did nae mean anythin’ by it, me Laird, only that ye might need somethin’, and I could get it for ye.”

“Why do ye think that I called ye up here, Angus? For a wee chat? Nay, I summoned ye because I have another job for ye.” Vincent could feel the sarcasm enter his voice, but there was little that he could do to control himself. He took another sip of the whisky.

“Is this the same problem?” asked Angus.

“Aye, it is. If things dinnae… well, I might have to take things into me own hands. Do the bloody job meself. I dinnae want any loose ends. When ye are done doing what ye are doing, I want the two lasses disposed of, and I want all of this wrapped up quickly, do ye hear me?”

“I’ve always performed me role. Perhaps if ye had let me hire someone to do it. I sometimes think that ye dinnae want him dead.”

“What did ye say to me?” asked Vincent. “Listen, get the job done, or ye will be the one under the ground. Do I need to make meself any clearer?”

“Nae, me Laird. I’ll pay a visit downstairs, and then I’ll make sure Ada and Amelia cannae talk to anyone.”

“Aye, and let me ken when it’s all done.”

“Aye, me Laird.”

Angus left the room, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

Jon ran through the courtyard, headed straight for the stables. He was not sure how she would leave the castle, but she would likely have ordered a carriage to make the journey unless she did not trust anyone in the castle anymore.

“I don’t have time to apologize to ye, Ruben,” said Jon when he got to the stable.

“Apologize to me?” asked Ruben.

“Has she been here? Has she left the castle yet?”

“What are ye talkin’ about? Have ye been on the whisky, Jon?” asked Ruben.

“Amelia?” asked Jon. “Has she left the castle.”

“I havenae seen her,” said Ruben.

“Alright, just let me ken if you do. If she comes down to the stables, dinnae let her leave before I can speak with her.”

“Aye, I’ll keep an eye out for her,” said Ruben.

Jon turned and ran back toward the castle. He went to Amelia’s room, but there was no sign of her, though all of her clothes were gone. He checked his own room too, and anywhere else he could think of that she might be, coming up short every time.

“Maggie!” he shouted. Maggie stopped her work and turned. “Have ye seen her, Maggie?”

“Who?” asked Maggie. “Amelia?”

“Aye,” said Jon. “Me uncle said that she had left the castle for England.”

“That’s the first that I’ve heard of it,” said Maggie. “But I havenae seen her in a while, now that ye mention it.”

“She did nae speak about leavin’ the castle?” asked Jon.

“Nae, she did nae, but she did speak about ye a lot. I think that maybe she was even—I mean, I think that she liked ye. She wouldnae leave without tellin’ ye first, and I’m sure that she wouldnae leave without comin’ to say goodbye to the other lasses and me.”

“So, she’s still in the castle?”

“Aye, she must be.”

“Thank ye,” said Jon. “If ye do see her, be sure that I’m the first to ken, aye?”

“Aye,” responded Maggie.

Jon left empty-handed again, unsure where to go next. Perhaps she was in the gardens, the scene of the attack, or had gone to the clearing—but she would have needed a horse for that—or perhaps… she had been taken without him there to protect her.

“Sir!”

Jon turned to see the Captain of the Guards. He looked flustered.

“What is it?” asked Jon. “Has Amelia been found?”

“Nay, sir,” said the captain. “It’s the man ye brought in.”

“What has he said? Has he spoken to ye?”

“Nay,” said the captain. “He’s nae going to be speakin’ to anyone.”

“What do ye mean?” asked Jon.

“He offed himself a couple of minutes ago. I dinnae ken how he managed to do it, but he slit his own wrists. We checked him for weapons when we brought him, but we must have missed a blade. This was on me watch, and I take full responsibility for this.”

“Nay,” said Jon. “Somethin’ else is at work here, or someone else—I can feel it.

He was ready to talk, and now he will nae.

” Jon took a deep breath and let out a big sigh.

He did not want to say it in front of the captain, but he was sure that this was something to do with his uncle.

It was too much of a coincidence. He did not know what that meant for Amelia.

Was she really thinking about leaving the castle?

Jon took another deep breath, trying to control his anger.

He backtracked the way he had come not an hour before, heading up to see his uncle, but this time everything was changed.

It did not feel like the same castle, nor was he sure he even knew his uncle anymore, nor did he understand his own life.

He bounded up the steps two at a time, hoping that his uncle was still in his library.

When he got to the top of the stairs, there were no guards positioned on the door anymore, but there was still a light coming from within the room.

When Jon got there, he found his uncle sat in a chair, a full glass of whisky in his hand.

“Where’s Amelia!” demanded Jon.

“I already told ye that she had left.” The Laird was slurring his words more than before, but that did not stop him from taking another large gulp of the whisky.

“Uncle, I think ye should put the whisky down and tell me what is going on.”

“That sounds like an order, but ye’re nae the Laird of this castle, are ye? Nay, I’m the Laird, and I think that it is time that ye showed me a little more respect, don’t ye?”

“That’s all that I’ve ever tried to do. Why do ye hate me so much?”

“Hate ye? Aye, I suppose that I do, but I love ye too, ye must ken that.”

“I do,” said Jon. He walked farther into the room and felt his body crumbling.

He squatted down in the middle of the library, looking around and taking everything in.

So much vibrancy and beauty had been withheld from him because his uncle had wanted something for himself.

And, at the far side of the room, the Laird slumped in his chair, the ugliness running rife.

“I ken that ye love me, I do, but I wonder why. Is it because ye should love me? Because I’m family?

So why do ye hate me? I can see both at all times, uncle, but the hate is finally outweighing the love. ”

“I raised ye like me own bairn,” said Vincent.

“I ken that,” said Jon. “Ye have been like a faither to me. But that does nae explain anythin’, does it?”

“Want, want, want. That’s all that ye life has been.”

Jon thought about arguing that point, but it would not do anything.

he was not sure that his uncle felt that way normally, but with the drink, he was speaking his mind.

Vincent was a stubborn man at the best of time, but when drunk, he was even more like a mule.

There would be no way to get through to him in this state.

“And take, take, take,” continued Vincent.

“Just tell me where Amelia is, and we can discuss this in the mornin’.”

“Aye, and ye wanted to take her too,” said Vincent. He stood up quickly and slammed his hand against the side of the table, sending it toppling. The glass of whisky remained in his other hand.

“Ye ken that’s nae true. I love her, and she loves me. I was nae the one who stole her from anyone. Ye are the one who wanted to take her as yer wife. Did ye do that because ye liked her, or because ye wanted to get back at me?”

“What’s love got to do with it? And I’m the Laird. I can do whatever I want in this castle.”

“And that’s a problem,” said Jon. “Ye cannae just do that because ye are the Laird. Ye cannae take a woman against her will to be yer wife, and why her? Why did it have to be her?”

“Always with everythin’ handed to ye. I’ve had to work for everythin’ me whole life, and ye come along and get it handed to ye on a platter.”

“Is that what this is about? Just because Amelia has feelin’s for me, ye had to take her as yer own.”

“Ye dinnae understand anythin’, do ye. Well, now nay one will have her.”

Jon bounded across the room and grabbed his uncle by the collar. “What did ye do to her? Tell me now, or I’ll….”

“Or, ye’ll what? Kill me? And then ye can be the Laird?”

Jon held his uncle’s collar tighter. “Just tell me where she is. Tell me what ye did to her.”

“Ye would have made a lousy Laird,” said Vincent with a smile on his face. “Yer faither would be spinnin’ in his grave if I had let ye be Laird.”

“Let me be Laird?” asked Jon. “What are ye talkin’ about?”

“Always handed everythin’. It’s a good thing that I did nae let it happen.

He was adamant on his deathbed.” Vincent scoffed and shook his head.

He tried to take another sip of his drink, but he could not manage it with Jon holding onto him.

“Can ye imagine if I had let ye be Laird when ye had come of age?”

“What are ye tellin’ me?” asked Jon.

“I did it for the castle,” said Vincent.

“Was I supposed to be Laird?”

“Of course, ye were. Ye were the son of the Laird. But ye are nothin’ like yer faither.

He would have wanted it to be this way. What?

Just because ye are the son of a Laird, that means that ye should be the Laird?

What kind of a system is that. I’m supposed to be the Laird because I care for me people.

What better reason is there? I did it for the Clan, and I did it for ye. ”

“For me,” scoffed Jon. “Ye’ve kept this from me for years. How could ye do that?”

“What does it matter anymore. Ye are nae the Laird, and ye never will be. I will take a wife, and I will have children, and me name will continue on. It’s what’s best for Clan and castle, and if ye cannae see that, then ye are more lost than I thought.”