Read Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3 Online
Authors: Ceci Giltenan
“Did ye not seek St. Stephan’s blessing in the Lowlands?”
“When I was little my papa gave coins to the poor on St. Stephan’s day, but Uncle Ambrose certainly didn’t.”
“Here we ask St. Stephan’s blessing on horses and livestock. Father will bless the hay, salt, and oats during Mass and it will be distributed amongst the farmers. Then the blessed items will be given to sick or injured animals during the year. Father will also bless the horses in my stable after Mass.”
Katherine had never heard of this custom. “Why? St. Stephan was a martyr who was stoned to death because of his faith in Christ. What is his connection to livestock?”
Niall’s eyes twinkled as he said, “There are several answers to that question, lass. The first is, according to legend, St. Stephan had a horse that he loved, but the horse became very ill. Christ cured St. Stephan’s beloved horse and that is why Stephan’s faith was so strong.”
“It sounds as if ye don’t believe that legend.”
“Well, sweetling, I have had some fine horses in my life and I surely would thank God if he intervened to save one of them. However, I’m not sure I would face a stoning for the love of a horse.”
“But it wasn’t for the love of a horse, it was—oh never mind,” she said when she realized he was teasing her. “What are the other reasons for blessing livestock?”
“Some say because little work is done between Christmas and Epiphany, it is a holiday for the livestock as well, particularly for beasts of burden like horses and oxen. Since St. Stephan’s day falls on the first day after Christmas, it is a good a time as any to bless them.”
“I guess that is reasonable, but I can tell by your grin there is more.”
“Now, ye see, lass, in ancient times, before we all became God-fearing Christians and heathens roamed the land, it is said horses were sacrificed at the winter solstice. When Christians put a stop to animal sacrifices, the horses in the Highlands, being good Christians themselves, were exceedingly grateful and thanked the first saint whose feast day fell soon after the solstice. St. Stephan would have been an ungrateful sot if he had refused to be their patron, so it was really a case of the Highland horses picking the saint as opposed to the other way round.”
Katherine laughed and Niall found himself thanking all the saints for giving him this beautiful lass, whose laughter must surely be sweeter than the songs of angels.
~ * ~
The celebration continued the next day on the Feast of St. John the Evangelist. Father Colm blessed kegs of wine called “The Love of St. John” in the morning to be served later at the feast. This was a tradition Katherine was familiar with, however the Clan celebrated in another way, as well. Because St. John lived to be a very old man, the eldest members of the clan were honored at this feast and sat with Niall and Katherine at the laird’s table. Niall watched her with pride as she listened to their stories, laughing merrily with them. Once more he realized how fortunate he was she had accepted his clan as her own and treated these elders with the kindness and respect they were due. His mother, Lady MacIan in name only, didn’t even attend this feast.
When the music started he claimed Katherine for dance after dance until she begged him to stop.
“Aren’t ye tired of me stepping on your feet yet?” she laughed.
“Was it ye who was stepping on my feet? I thought sure it must be Turcuil,” he said with a wink and laughed at her mock outrage. “Truthfully, Katherine, I would rather dance with ye all night and suffer bruised toes than dance with any other partner, regardless of how skilled she might be.”
Katherine laughed. “That is the Love of St. John talking.”
Niall laughed, too. He suspected love had something to do with it, but perhaps not the blessed wine. Taking her in his arms, he said, “Have I thanked ye yet?”
“Thanked me for what?”
He motioned to the celebration around them. “For this.”
“Planning a feast is no great ordeal.”
“Not for planning it, pet. The MacIans haven’t had much to celebrate, and nothing to celebrate with, for the last few years. It is only because of ye the clan is safe and whole.”
“Nay, Niall, ye sought the king’s help, saving me and Tomas in the process. I have a home and family again.” The warmth and love Niall saw in her eyes took his breath away.
Fingal, who stood nearby, said, “Perhaps ye would honor a member of your new family with a dance, then?”
Katherine laughed. “If your toes can stand it, I suppose I can.”
~ * ~
The third day after Christmas was Childermas, honoring the young boys in Bethlehem who were killed by King Herod. In the same way that elders were honored on the Feast of John the Evangelist, sometimes children were given special treats on Childermas.
At the midday meal, Eithne asked, “Has young Tomas had his beating yet today?” Tomas’ eyes grew wide with fear and Father Colm looked up from his conversation with Cairbre.
“We don’t observe that tradition at Duncurra,” Katherine said coolly. Tomas had had more than enough beatings in his life. He didn’t need another one to fully understand the cruelty of men.
“I am glad to hear that, my lady,” said Father Colm. “It is a ridiculous custom and one that I don’t hold with, either.”
“Come now, Father, Katherine,” Malcolm said, “some people think a child is destined to have bad luck if he doesn’t receive a few whacks in memory of the Holy Innocents.” Malcolm called to Niall, who was deep in conversation with Diarmad, “Niall, what’s this I hear about not beating children on Childermas?” Wide eyed with fear, Tomas slid off his chair, maneuvering very close to Katherine.
Katherine found Laird MacLennan’s satisfied smile, as well as the pleasure he appeared to derive from Tomas’ discomfort, very disturbing.
Before Niall could respond, Katherine said, clearly very irritated, “Laird MacLennan, please cease this discussion now. No one will be beaten here, today or ever.”
“Katherine, dear, please calm down” said Niall. “I think Malcolm was just teasing.”
She didn’t think Malcolm was teasing and she knew Eithne wasn’t. She answered, “I apologize if I misunderstood you, Laird. Please understand, I don’t see the humor in beating a child or anyone else.” Katherine excused herself from the table, leaving the great hall with Tomas, who still looked terrified. She wanted to reassure him, so she took him to her room and sat with him by the fire.
“Why does Laird MacLennan want to beat me?”
She tried to explain Childermas and the reason for the custom, although it had always seemed absurd to her. “Tomas, it must have been a terrifying day when Herod murdered all the little boys in Bethlehem. Think how scared they must have been. There are people who think if children feel just a little of that fear and pain, they will remember the sacrifice of the Holy Innocents.”
“But ye don’t think so?”
“Nay. In fact, I think it may be easier to think about the Holy Innocents if we aren’t worried about ourselves, don’t ye?”
“Aye,” he agreed solemnly.
“Sweetheart, ye know I won’t let anyone hurt ye?”
“Aye, but what if someday ye aren’t near? I don’t like him. I don’t like Da’s mother, either.”
“I know, pet, some people are very hard to like,” Katherine agreed. “Sometimes it is just best to stay away from them.”
~ * ~
“Well, that was rude,” snapped Eithne, when Katherine left the hall.
Niall glared at Eithne and said to Malcolm, “I’m sure ye can understand, Malcolm, my wife is sensitive about the subject of beating.”
“Niall, I am so very sorry, how thoughtless of me. How could I possibly have forgotten? I should go and apologize to her.”
“That won’t be necessary, I’m sure she understood.” Niall assured him. “I promised Tomas we would go out for a ride this afternoon. I will tell Katherine again that you intended no harm.”
Fingal watched the entire exchange, dumbfounded. Katherine had nearly died in Malcolm’s keep. He understood his mother’s callousness, but Malcolm’s surprised him. Fingal found Niall’s calm acceptance of the situation extremely irritating as well. When was he going to wake up?
After the small upset on Childermas, the festivities continued until the Epiphany, which celebrated the visitation of the Magi. On this day, people exchanged gifts in commemoration of the Magi’s gifts to the Christ child. When Katherine and Niall woke that morning, before leaving their chambers, he gave her his gift. Katherine fingered the delicate silver filigree brooch, inlaid with small precious stones, reverently. “It is beautiful, Niall, thank you.” She attached her
airisaidh
around her shoulders with it. “I have a gift for ye, too.” She smiled. “But I can’t give it to ye today.”
“Why not?” He feigned disappointment.
“Because it isn’t ready yet.”
“When will it be ready?”
“Early August, I think.” Katherine grinned.
Niall looked at her in confusion until the meaning of what she had said sank in. “Katherine, are ye with child?” he asked.
“I think so. I have all the signs. I am tired, cranky, and I feel sick half the time. When I missed my monthly courses in November, I thought maybe it was just from the upset over Eithne, but I have passed the time they are due in December now, too.”
Thrilled, Niall pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He couldn’t have been happier; the woman he loved was going to give him a child.
The woman he
loved
. In spite of everything preventing him from admitting it, he did love her, deeply and passionately. How could he ever have tried not to? Finally, he asked, “How long have ye known?”
“I have suspected it for a couple of weeks, but I spoke with Effie yesterday and she confirmed it. I wanted ye to know as soon as I did. But it’s still so early in my pregnancy, I was thinking perhaps we should not announce this news just yet. Maybe we could wait a little longer.”
“We will wait as long as ye wish, Katherine.”
~ * ~
After they attended Mass and broke their fast, Niall said to Tomas, “Are ye ready to see your gift now?” Tomas nodded eagerly. “Well, we will have to go outside to see it.”
Katherine laughed as Tomas grabbed her hand and dragged her to the door with them. Pulling their plaids over their heads to block the cold, Niall and Katherine led Tomas to the stable where he found his present, a sturdy Highland pony.
The boy could barely contain himself. “Does he have a name?”
“Nay,” answered Katherine, “but your pony is not a ‘he’. Ye will need to pick a lass’s name.”
He thought for a moment, looking very serious, “Then I want to call her Mab,” he finally said.
“Why Mab?” asked Niall.
“I think it’s a pretty name and Maura told me a story once about a fairy queen named Mab.”
“Then Mab it is,” said Katherine.
Niall helped Tomas saddle the little pony, letting him ride in the courtyard. The tolerant pony seemed undaunted by the boy’s youthful exuberance. Niall stayed close, giving Tomas instructions on how to hold the reins to control where the pony went. Niall had selected this animal carefully and, watching them together, Katherine knew he had made a good choice. Gentle enough to be safe, Mab also had enough pluck to be a worthy mount for an energetic lad.
As Katherine watched them, she remembered the pure joy she had felt when her father had given her Stormy. Giving Tomas the pony had been Niall’s idea, but she wholeheartedly agreed. In this moment, she felt truly and completely happy. She did not want to break the spell, but she had responsibilities she could not ignore, and the wind also grew fierce and cold. “I am going to freeze solid if I stay out here any longer. Besides there is still much to do.”
“Please, can I ride longer, Mama?” Tomas asked.
Niall answered, “We will let your mama go inside before she freezes, but ye can ride a few more minutes before we see Mab tucked in.”
Katherine walked over to give them each a kiss before she went inside. She whispered softly in Niall’s ear, “I think it would be a good idea for Tomas to have a rest this afternoon before the feast.”
Niall grinned and said, “That could be a challenge. I seem to remember unsuccessfully ordering his mother to ‘rest’ once.”
Katherine laughed. “Do what ye can.”
“Speaking of his mother resting, I know I cannot order ye to sleep, but I want ye to lie down in bed and close your eyes for a while this afternoon. The evening will be long for ye, too. Was that specific enough?”
“Aye, Laird,” she said, grinning at him. She turned to reenter the keep, thinking “a while” still left a lot of room for interpretation.
~ * ~
Much too excited to sleep, Tomas laid down on the bed that afternoon as his da had told him to do.
Only babies took naps.
He frowned and stared at the bed’s canopy, thinking about his new pony. Finally, he decided if he could just check on Mab one more time and make sure she didn’t need him, he could try to sleep then. He got out of bed and peeked out the chamber door into the hall, looking for anyone who might object. Seeing no one, he slipped very quietly into the corridor and down the stairs. He made it all the way past the second floor without meeting a soul, but before getting to the armory, he heard voices whispering at the bottom of the stairs. He crouched down so whoever was there wouldn’t see him, listening impatiently for them to leave. At first he couldn’t understand what they were saying, but as he listened more closely, he heard something that terrified him.
“Everything has been arranged as ye required. It can only end in Niall’s death this time, and Duncurra will finally be yours.”
“I am ready to be done with this mockery. I have pretended to be jovial and devoted for too long. I am just sorry I won’t be the one to kill him. Part of me wants him to know it was me.”
As quietly as he could, Tomas slipped back up the stairs. He wanted to stop at his mother’s room, but afraid whoever was at the bottom of the stairs would hear him, he went to his own room and shut the door. He didn’t know what to do. They had been talking about killing his da. He needed to tell someone, but was so afraid of running into the bad people he couldn’t leave his room. He sat crouched by the fire for what seemed like hours when Fineen finally tapped on his door and entered. “Tomas, your mother sent me to bring ye down to the feast.”
“I need to talk to Mama,” he said.
“Well, come on then, she’s downstairs.” Tomas worried about the people in the stairwell, but if he was with Fineen he would be safe until he could talk to Da or Mama.
His parents sat at the head table, but Lady Eithne, who was sitting near Mama, scared him. He didn’t like Laird MacLennan either, but he was sitting near Da. Tomas would have to wait until he could talk to one of them alone.
He went to the table and his mama gave him a kiss. “For someone who wasn’t tired, that was quite a nap.”
Tomas just nodded, moving as close to her as possible.
She cocked her head to one side, “Tomas, is everything all right?”
He nodded again but didn’t speak.
“Do ye want to go sit with Uncle Fingal and have something to eat?”
“Katherine, you do not give children options. They should be told what to do and taught to obey,” Eithne scolded.
“Thank you, Eithne, we will have to disagree on that. Life is full of duties and obligations. I see no benefit in creating more where it isn’t necessary,” his mother said mildly, but he did not want to stay near Lady Eithne anyway. He backed away and ran to where Uncle Fingal sat.
Tomas had never experienced feasts and celebrations like the ones at Duncurra. He loved the little pies filled with shredded meat and spices. He had never had one before, but they had been served every evening since Christmas. Nevan had told him it was good luck to eat one on each of the twelve days, but Tomas wasn’t very hungry tonight.
On all of the other nights he didn’t want the fun to end, but now he was anxious for the celebration to be over. He needed to talk to Mama, but every time he tried, there were too many people around. He remembered thinking he would just put his head on the table for a minute. He awoke the next morning snuggly tucked into his own bed.
Dressing quickly, he hurried downstairs, stopping to tap softly at his mother’s door, but no one answered. He listened cautiously from the top of the stairs to the first floor to make sure the stairwell was empty before hurrying down to the great hall. Neither his parents nor Uncle Fingal were there, but thankfully, Lady MacIan and Laird MacLennan were absent as well. Father Colm sat at the table chatting with Diarmad, so Tomas went to them.
“Have ye seen my mama?” Tomas asked, climbing into a chair beside Diarmad.
“Not yet, Tomas,” answered Father Colm.
Diarmad added, “I saw your da before he went out hunting and he said ye might want me to take ye to ride your pony this morning.” He motioned for a serving maid to bring a bowl of porridge to Tomas.
“I don’t know,” said Tomas feeling very worried. “I need to talk to my mama.” He ate his porridge with his brow still furrowed.
“Ye don’t know if ye want to go riding?” asked Diarmad. “Your da had to pry ye off that pony yesterday.”
“I want to ride Mab, but I really need to talk to Mama.”
“Is something bothering ye, lad?” asked Father Colm, looking concerned.
Tomas liked both Father Colm and Diarmad. He really needed to tell someone about what he had heard, but the people he overheard had whispered. Not being able to recognize their voices, Tomas didn’t know whom to trust. He didn’t think it could have been Diarmad or Father Colm, but he would feel much better talking to Mama. “Well, I—,” Tomas saw Lady MacIan and Laird MacLennan enter the great hall. Looking at Diarmad, he said, “I would like to ride my pony. Can we go now?”
~ * ~
That morning, Katherine slept much longer than she usually did. Between the late night and her pregnancy, she knew she probably needed the rest, but she felt guilty anyway. She hurried down to the great hall to find the castle servants well about the business of the day. Lady MacIan commented, “Katherine, dear, it is a wonder anything at all gets done around here with the lady of the castle sleeping half the day away.”
Father Colm laughed, saying, “Now, Lady MacIan, I would hardly say half the day is gone. Why, ye yourself have only just arisen.”
Lady MacIan glared, but she said no more.
Grateful for the support, Katherine flashed the priest a quick smile. For once Eithne’s sharp tongue had actually given Katherine a valid reason to escape for a while instead of only the impotent desire to do so. “As I am getting a later start than usual today, I’m sure you will excuse me if I don’t join you for your morning meal. I have duties to attend to.”
Katherine walked toward the kitchens, followed by Father Colm, who asked, “Lady Katherine, do ye mind if I walk with ye? There is something I would like to discuss.”
“Not at all,” she answered.
Father Colm inclined his head toward Eithne and Malcolm and said, “Please excuse me.” After they left the great hall he said, “Lady Katherine, your son seemed anxious about something this morning. He wanted to talk to ye. Diarmad and I tried to find out what was bothering him, but as soon as Laird MacLennan and Lady Eithne arrived, Tomas said no more. He has gone to the stables with Diarmad.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure you have noticed Niall assigns one of his guards to keep an eye on Tomas every day.”
Father Colm chuckled, “I had noticed Tomas always seemed to have a guard with him. The days when Turcuil becomes a fierce dragon who needs taming are humorous indeed. I did not know the reason.”
Katherine laughed, too, and went on, “Well, the primary reason is to keep Tomas away from Lady MacIan.”
“That seems like a wise choice. It also explains a few things. Clearly the lad is cautious of both Lady MacIan and Laird MacLennan. I have found children and dogs to be uncanny judges of character. I will keep an eye on Tomas as well.”
“Thank ye, Father. I will find Tomas as soon as I have spoken with Bridie.”
“It is probably nothing, but I’m sure he will feel better once he tells ye what it is,” Father said with a reassuring smile. “Let me know if I can be of any help. I have some things to take care of in the chapel this morning.”
It took much longer for her to seek Tomas out than she had anticipated. Before Katherine finished with Bridie, a servant came rushing into the kitchen looking for her.
“My lady, there has been an accident on the training field. Fingal is hurt. They’re bringing him up to the castle now.”
“Please go to my chamber quickly and bring me my bag of supplies.” Katherine sent other servants to prepare Fingal’s chamber and to bring other supplies she would need. Then she rushed to meet the men carrying him.
From a distance she saw blood drenched his left side, but he was still alert. When she reached him, she assessed his wound quickly. It looked more severe than it actually was. Relief flooded her and she thanked God and his angels for their protection. “This isn’t nearly as bad as I feared. Why, it is a scratch, really,” she teased.
Fingal groaned. “Just a scratch, is it? It hurts a tad more than any scratch I’ve ever had.”
“Well, perhaps it is wee bit deeper than most scratches. I will clean and stitch it, but ye’ll be fine. The bleeding has already slowed. How did this happen?”