The Last Sunset (32 page)

“Donald has returned with a queer tale,” the old
Highlander told Andy, a faint smile fringing the dark lines around his eyes.
“The Lady Shawnee would not stay where herself was bid, and your friend Sam
would not allow her to accompany him, so they remain at
Meall An Fhraoich
still, each loath to accommodate the other.
Alasdair Mhor
has more sense
than both. Himself remains with them, reluctant to choin one battle while
another may break out behind him.”

The smiles of the two men quickly faded.

“The women and children are at the shielings
now?” said Andy.

“We thought them safe in the hills, where they
have always fled when danger threatens. Who would have believed men capable of
such wickedness?” The Highlander grabbed Andy by the arm. “Yourself will take
Ishbel this very night and you will flee from this place. Perhaps you could
find it in your heart to take Shona as well. Herself is young but she is
spirited and will complain little.”

Andy shook his head. “We’re wasting time here.
We need tae find somewhere large enough tae hold us all taegether, but small
enough tae defend.”

Achnacon’s hand dug into the soldier’s arm as he
tried to force his attention. “If enough off us stay and suffer their vengeance
perhaps they will be satisfied.” He grasped one of Macmillan’s hands. “I could
not have chose better for my Ishbel, had herself allowed it. Take her and her
sister, keep them both safe. I pray Achnacon’s grandchildren will be born to a
better world than this.”

Andy finally acknowledged the old man’s pleas.
“Nobody’s leaving anyone behind. Our best chance is tae stand taegether. If we
hurt them badly enough they’ll lose the stomach for a fight.”

Achnacon groaned in frustration. “Och, man, how
can ourselfs hurt an enemy who stands one half mile off while their cannon does
the business for them? Even our stoutest walls will crumble under cannon fire.”

Andy held up his rifle, the magazine still
attached as insurance against Longholme. “You havenae seen what ma wee cannon
can do, have ye?”

Achnacon was beginning to suspect the strain had
become too much for the young man. He tried to explain the problem, as
patiently as he could.

“Andy, my friend, ’tis clear yourself is a brave
and noble soul, but ’tis also clear you have no sense of what modern weapons
can do to flesh and bone. Too many times I have seen what remains of men who
have smelt the terrible breath of the cannon. ’Tis an end I would spare yourself.
Aye, and my own lassies, ’tis an end I would spare them most of all…”

Andy considered taking Achnacon outside to
demonstrate the power and accuracy of the innocuous-looking weapon in his
hands, but too many eyes would be watching. He decided to try a different
approach.

“Ah had another dream last night,” he remarked
casually.

The Highlander looked at his friend as if his
mind had begun to wander.

“Of all the visions Ah’ve had, this vision was
the most vivid of all,” said Andy. “It was so clear, it was in colour, with
sound and everything.”

Achnacon looked obliquely at the soldier. “A
vision, you say? And what might this vision haff told you?”

“…It was summer in Glen Laragain. The sun was
shining, the wee birds were singing high above the glen, and the cattle were up
by the shielings. Everyone in the glen had come tae see Ishbel in this lovely
dress she was wearing. She had a veil over her face, and flowers in her hair,
and she looked really happy…”

“…’Tis a wedding…” The old man took the bait,
his eyes wide. “…The wedding of my own Ishbel.”

Andy went on, inspired. “Mhairi, the wife of
Achnacon was there, and wee Shona, and Achnacon himself, and Larachmor, and all
the people from the glen. Sam and Shawnee were there too. Everyone had gathered
tae see the wedding.”

“And the sons of Achnacon, Donald and Chames,
were themselfs home, safe from the war?”

For a moment Andy was caught off guard, but he
quickly recovered. “Aye, well, there was a couple of young guys with yerself
that Ah hadn’t seen before.”

“And yourself? Was it yourself Ishbel was about
to wed?”

A mischievous shadow of doubt clouded Andy’s face.
“Well, now, ye cannae always tell with these things. Ah mean, ye don’t get tae
see yerself in these visions, ye know?”

The old Highlander looked concerned. “Did
yourself see another who might have been the groom?”

Andy considered the question for a moment, then
shook his head. “No. There was no one else there who might’ve been the groom.”

Achnacon lost no time in sharing Andy’s vision
with the other elders. It caused such a sensation that even the two Gaelic-speaking
redcoats tore themselves away from the fire to ask if they’d appeared in the
dream. The Highlanders’ faith in the second-sight was so unshakeable that all
who’d featured in the vision felt impregnable.

When the excitement died down Andy tried to
focus Achnacon’s attention on more pressing issues.

“As soon as this weather passes we’ll need tae
get everybody down from the shielings and concentrate them in an area we can
defend.”

Achnacon’s spirits had moved so rapidly from one
extreme to the other it seemed he had yet to re-encounter reality.

“Och, man, you trouble yourself too much with
this or that detail. We shall triumph, never fear. The die is cast, whatever
ourselfs may try to make of the game.”

Andy sighed heavily. “Look, it doesnae work like
that. We have tae make it happen. God won’t be intervening on our behalf.”

Achnacon’s faith remained undimmed. “Och, man, I
know all that. I just meant whatever yourself decides to do will surely be the
right thing.”

Andy grunted sourly. “Aye, right, if you say so.
Look, the first thing we have tae work out is how tae get word tae all the
shielings.”

“As soon as young Donald is fed and rested,
himself may carry the message into the hills.”

Andy nodded his head. “Right, that’s a start.
Next we have tae figure out where we can defend ourselves against an army of
redcoats. One of yer townships would be best. We’ll need at least two adjacent
cottages tae shelter yer people, and somewhere we can defend from all sides.”

“The walls of
Meall An Fhraoich
are as
stout as any in the glen. No man may approach but he is seen a long way off. If
ourselfs can hold them anywhere, t’will be there.”

Andy nodded. “
Meall An Fhraoich
it is
then. What about muskets? How many do we have?”

“We took three-and-twenty Brown Bess from the
men yourself,
Alasdair
and
Cailean
killed. ’Twould be a fitting
irony if they was to be used on their own comrades.”

“What about ammunition?”

“Each soldier had been issued a pouch of four-and-twenty
cartridges of ball and powder. Those who stood and fought had less.”

Andy nodded towards the group of redcoats. “What
do we do with them if they decide tae stay? Do we trust them with weapons?”

Achnacon shrugged. “I will speak to the lefftenant
when himself has rested, but perhaps ’twould be best if they chose to flee.
Better to haff a sworn enemy at our front than a doubtful friend at our back.”

“My sentiments exactly,” murmured the soldier.

The wind was now howling around the cottage,
threatening to separate the thatched roof from the walls and send it tumbling
down the glen like a huge straw hat. Torrential rain battered against the
building, creating puddles of muddy water where it forced an entrance. This was
clearly no passing weather system, but a full-blooded Atlantic storm.

Achnacon’s aged warriors laid claim to the
available beds, while Longholme’s men staked out their sleeping spaces around
the fire, the soldiers radiating outwards like spokes on a wheel.

Achnacon decided to bring the people down from
the hills immediately, before the fury of the elements did their enemy’s
business for them. Young Donald was sent out to spread the word to the
shielings, his phillamhor still steaming from the last soaking he’d received.
Achnacon and his comrades would remain at
Ceann Laragain
for now, while
Andy returned to
Meall An Fhraoich
to warn the others.

The soldier was soaked to the skin long before
he reached the village. At first the atmosphere inside the cottage was as
chilly as it had been outside, but as soon as Andy passed on the grim news the
American cold war came to an end.

“So Longholme’s back, huh? I wouldn’t trust that
guy as far as I could spit. For all we know he’s back to finish the job he
started.”

Andy squatted before the fire, his wet
phillamhor replaced by a blanket. “Achnacon seems tae be taking him at his
word. And, ye know, if Ah was trying tae catch somebody by surprise Ah’d want
tae put them at their ease, make them complacent…”

“The last thing you would do is put them on their
guard,” said Alistair.

“Exactly. We may have tae take what Longholme
said as genuine.”

The soldiers’ eyes met then, only briefly, but
long enough for each to see the dark apprehension in the other. Two men
separated by sixty years of technological achievement, and united by sixty
years of human failure. Both looked to the Americans, as condemned men would
look to those who are offered a reprieve.

Shawnee instantly understood. She shook her head
determinedly. “Forget it, fellas. This is as much my fight now as it is
anybody’s.”

Sam groaned like a long-suffering martyr. “For
Godsakes, lady, can y’not even give an inch? Come tomorrow this place is gonna
be like the Alamo. We should get the hell outta here while we can. Maybe lie
low somewhere till it all dies down.”

She drew herself up to her full height, like a
diminutive gunfighter. “If you think for one moment I’m gonna turn my back on
these people, then you don’t know me. You’ve made it clear this isn’t your
fight, so nobody’s asking you to stay.”

“Dammit, Shawnee, you are way outta line,” Sam
growled, “I was thinking about you; getting you the hell outta here till it’s
over.”

“It’s something tae consider,” Andy said
quietly. “Alistair and I are pretty much the only hope these people have, so we
have no choice. But you two could get away if ye leave now.”

The outrage melted from Shawnee’s face, giving
way to a pale smile. “Where are we gonna be safer, guys? Here, with all you big
strong men to protect us, or out there? Think about it, for Godsakes. Where are
we gonna go? Apart from anything else, have y’any idea what rain like that can
do to a girl’s hair?”

“Shawnee, for the love of God, y’don’t have to
be a rocket scientist to work it out…”

“…I’ve done the math, Sam, same as you have,”
she said sharply. “I know what we’re up against.”

Sam groaned wearily. He had spent a long, hard
day playing push and shove with Shawnee and had little energy left to pursue
the point.

As soon as Macmillan had dried off and found
another plaid, Sam insisted the two soldiers give him a crash course on their
respective weapons. Alistair was introduced to the S.L.R., while the American
quickly learnt how to strip and assemble both rifles. Ammunition was too
precious for the loading and firing drill to culminate in anything more than
the hollow click of a firing pin on an empty chamber.

“How many buildings do we have here at
Meall
An Fhraoich
?” Andy wanted to know.

“There’s the main house here,” replied Alistair,
“then there’s three other sizeable cottages, as well the wee house where
yourself was wenching yon lassie. Then there’s two other buildings; a wee
storehouse kind of affair, and a wee barn where they keep their hay…”

“Seven in total,” Andy reflected. “Right, we
need tae choose the one that’ll give us the best all round field of fire.”

Shawnee had found a coarse brush and had begun
to remove the tangled knots from her hair. She seemed to have lost all interest
in the proceedings.

“The wee storehouse would be best,” Alistair
decided. “It’s on the fringe of the settlement, and would present a smaller
target than most of the other buildings. We’ll need to create a few more
windows in the walls, though, to give ourselves a complete field of fire.”

“Aye, we cannae leave any blind spots,” said
Andy.

“We’re gonna need at least two windows in each
of the walls to give us all-round visibility.”

“That’s gonnae take us a while. We’ll need tae
get working on it as soon as the rain goes over.”

“Why don’t y’just take off the roof?” asked
Shawnee. “Then y’got three hundred and sixty degrees visibility, and y’still
got the walls for protection.”

The three men looked at each other, sheepish
grins spreading across their faces.

“Or we could always take off the roof,” murmured
Andy.

Shawnee dragged the brush through the tangled
mess of her hair. “Like I say, so long as I got you big strong men to protect
me what’ve I got to worry about?”