Page 73 of Kilgannon #1

M ORNING WAS NO BETTER. I ROSE LATE, STIFF AND tense and still angry.

Downstairs there was no sign of Alex or Angus or Thomas.

They did not come home for two days. I soon discovered that they had gone to the outlying areas to talk to clan members who had not come for the meeting.

When Alex did return, he was gray-faced with weariness and nodded curtly to me as he passed me in the hall.

Hours later I went to our room and found him asleep, still in his clothes.

I spread a blanket over him and kissed his forehead.

He stirred, reaching for me, and I slipped into his arms without a word.

He slept again then and I rested in his arms, trying to persuade myself that it was all a dream, that I would wake and have our life back.

I fell asleep still trying to convince myself.

I woke when he moved and opened my eyes to see him sitting on the side of the bed, brushing his hair back from his face and staring into space.

He sighed as he stood and straightened his clothing.

The room was dim, autumn’s gloaming providing little light this evening.

Below us the yard was quiet. He turned and we looked at each other for a long moment, then he reached a hand out to caress my cheek.

His voice was gentle. “I love ye, Mary. Ye may not credit that, nor understand me, but I do love ye.”

“I know, Alex. And I love you.”

“Aye, I ken ye do.” He looked at the blanket, fingering the wool, then turned to stare into the shadows as he spoke in a flat voice. “I have sent word to the MacDonald that we’ll be joining him. And we’ve sent Gilbey to get Matthew.”

I did not speak. Having him put it into words made it almost tangible. I closed my eyes. This is not real, I told myself. When I said nothing he sighed again and quietly left.

I gradually realized that he had known he was going for a long time, but it struck me most intensely the morning that I came upon him supervising the unpacking of the last of the pistols.

I had seen the boxes, neatly stacked in the bottom of the keep, but had not known what they were.

After our discussion about their purchase we had not mentioned them again, although I had assumed that the pistols being used in the constant practicing were the new ones.

The knowledge that it was time to unpack the last of them was unnerving.

Angus and Dougall were showing the younger men how to load the pistols, while Alex sat on one of the barrels aiming at the wall opposite him, sighting down the barrel with one eye closed.

I stood in the doorway, horrified, unnoticed at first. And then Alex, with that uncanny ability of his, turned and looked into my eyes.

I watched him freeze as he saw my expression and slowly rise from the barrel.

Angus glanced up and looked from Alex to me.

I turned and walked back through the hall, blindly seeking the door.

Outside I took a deep breath and walked rapidly toward the water.

He reached me at the foot of the dock and stood before me, a pistol tucked in his belt. I focused on his chest. Abruptly I turned and walked away from him, and he was before me again.

“Mary Rose,” he said hoarsely. “Mary, come with me now, lass.”

“No.” I hardly recognized my strangled voice. “No.”

“Aye, lass, come with me.” He took my hand in his. “Come with me.” I looked at him then, this stranger.

“To war, Alex? Do you want me to be one of those women who follow soldiers and tend to them?” I snatched my hand away.

“No, lass,” he said sadly, shaking his head. “Just come with me a bit on the loch. Please.”

“No.”

“Aye, Mary. We must talk. Come.”

He took my hand again, and this time I did not resist. He rowed us out on the loch while I looked to my left.

If I turned to the right I would see the men preparing on the shore, preparing for war, preparing to leave us, and my anger would boil again.

So I looked across the still water and I thought how blue the water was today, how green the last of the leaves of the trees on the far side, how gray the mountains above.

I listened to the rhythmic sounds of Alex’s strokes and I watched the water swirl around the oar as he dipped it in.

In the middle of the loch, with a sigh, he stopped rowing and we drifted.

I looked at the far shore for a long time.

When he still didn’t speak, I stole a glance at him.

He was watching me, a guarded expression on his face, his eyes as blue as the water behind him.

The sun had turned his hair to gold, and the breeze blew little wisps of it into a halo around his head.

Without intending to I leaned over and brushed a lock of gold back from his cheek.

He caught my wrist as I pulled away. Our eyes met, and his image blurred and shattered as my tears fell.

I tried to blink them away. He still held my wrist, but he said nothing, and I glanced at him again.

He was looking at my hand, his head bent, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall under the linen.

He looked up at me, meeting my eyes, and he released my wrist.

“Mary, can ye forgive me?” He sighed deeply. “I am sorry that I am making ye so angry.”

“Don’t go. Don’t leave us, Alex. I’m so afraid.”

“I’ll come back, lass.”

“You’ll intend to.”

“I will come back.”

“Why?” I whispered .

“Why am I going or why will I come back?”

“Both.”

He shook his head. “Ah, Mary, I have no magic words to explain it. I can only tell ye that I don’t want to go and I must.”

“Why? For Malcolm? Are you going for him, Alex?”

He took a deep breath and looked at his feet before lifting his blue, blue eyes to mine.

“No, lass, not for Malcolm. I am mindful of ail he has done. I have no illusions left about my brother. I would never make this sacrifice for him.” He shook his head.

“No, Mary, I am going because I am a Gael and L canna stay behind when my people go to war. Sensible or no’, warranted or no’, I canna stay behind, safe, and I canna fight for yer King Geordie.

When they drew the line of who is to be enemies, I am on this side, and I canna let those on my side fight without me.

I canna stay here with ye and hear of them dying.

If I go, perhaps I can make a difference.

If I stay home I’ll only wonder, I’ll always wonder. ”

“And if you don’t come home?”

“I’ll come home.”

I watched the light play in his hair. “How do you know?”

“I know.” I looked away, at Kilgannon, feeling his gaze on me. “I’ll come back to ye, Mary. And to my sons, This is where I belong, I’ll come back.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, I ken that, lass. What I’m saying is foreign to ye.”

“Not just to me, Alex, but to most of the women. What difference does it make who is king? We watch you all preparing as if for the Games, as if for a long hunting trip. Do you not understand what can happen? Does none of you understand?”

“We understand. Some don’ t, of course. They think this is just a great adventure, something to tell their grandchildren on a winter’s night, but most of us understand. We have no choice. ”

“You do have a choice. You are choosing to go.” He watched me for a long moment, then looked at the far shore. I studied his profile, his eyelashes glinting in the sun, and I wanted to scream. Why couldn’t I think of something to say that would stop him?

He turned to me again. “Aye, lass. Yer right in that. We are choosing. And I have no words left to explain it to ye.” He took my hand from where it lay on my skirt.

“I can only say that I love ye more than life, Mary, but if I stay here with ye I will die. My body will continue, but part of me will die.” He kissed my palm and I watched his bent head. “I canna stay,” he whispered.

“And part of me will die if you leave,” I whispered back.

“Aye, but ye’ll be born again when I return whole to ye.”

“Alex. …” I wanted to rage and strike out, to scream and pull at my hair. Instead, I looked at my husband and I cried. He drew me to him then and held me as I sobbed, patting my back and making soothing sounds, his tears mingling with mine. We sat huddled in that little boat until the sun set.

But it changed nothing.

I could not sleep, and Alex slept hardly at all.

He was everywhere, overseeing the preparations in every detail, the preparations for war and the preparations for leaving us behind.

He had carefully chosen men to stay with us, to protect us, and to help us survive their absence.

Because they were leaving before the harvest, with the cattle still in their summer shieldings and the grain not all yet reaped, some men who knew such things would stay behind at first and help us, but we would all have to work or we would never last the winter.

My anger dipped and arched. At some moments I was resigned and calm, and at others I could hardly speak without bitterness.

The men avoided me. Most of the women agreed with me, but I kept my own counsel.

I tried to explain it to the boys but failed.

Alex took them with him everywhere and I knew he was talking to them, but how could children of six and eight understand what their father meant when he said he was going to war?

I understood the words and the ideas, but when I applied them to my life and realized he was leaving because of those ideas, I balked, and if I could not understand, how could they?

But they seemed to accept the idea of Alex leaving, and I marveled at their faith that he would return.

All I could think of was what could happen, and the vision of my life stretching out before me without him haunted my every step.

Matthew came home and brought the news that most of the Highland clans were gathering to join Mar. The men of Kilgannon cheered.