Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Callum stood on the battlement overlooking the front gate of the castle. There was no one left outside. All the guests were already crammed into the great hall. He looked out at the countryside, every lump and bump of the landscape as familiar to him as his own hand.

It felt strange to think that the next time he stood up there he would be a married man. He would be a husband. He would have a wife.

He found himself thinking just how lucky he was. He had come back to MacCleod castle ready for a blazing row with his parents. He took Kerry with him into the great hall, finding his father on the dais dealing with petitioners and his mother reading by the fireside.

It was a source of great pride to him that both his parents could read and that they had taught him the difficult skill while he was still a child. His mother looked up from her book, smiling when she saw him.

“We were hoping you’d come back,” she said. “The abbot said you went north. I feared you went to pick a fight with the MacIntyres. Were you that desperate to get out of your wedding that you would get yourself killed in a pointless skirmish?”

“I went to fetch someone.”

“Hi,” Kerry said, waving next to him. “Nice to see you again.”

“You’re back,” Alan shouted from the dais. “Get over here. I want a word with you.” He waved the petitioners away. “Everyone out but my son.”

Kerry looked unsure but Callum slipped his hand into hers, bringing her forward with him. The room emptied as he stood before his father, ready for the yelling to begin. “I will not marry Nessa MacKay,” he said, bracing himself for the response.

“Aye,” his father replied. “I know that.”

“What?” Callum was thrown. “You are not angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry with you?”

“Because you’ve insisted on this wedding for weeks and told me if I didnae go through with it, I’d be banished.”

“Aye well I didnae expect Nessa to run off in the night and marry her man before anyone could stop her, did I?”

“She ran off?”

“Said she’d be damned before she’d marry a MacCleod. So that’s that.”

Callum turned and smiled at Kerry. “Which means there’s nothing to stop us marrying.”

“Only one thing,” she replied.

“What’s that?”

“You haven’t asked me yet.”

Callum leaned over the battlements, recalling how she looked in that moment, the sparkle in her eyes, the amused look, the way the light from the fire made her hair glow with life. She looked more beautiful than ever as he asked her the only question that mattered.

“Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will.”

“That’s good news,” Alan said, slapping their hands together. “I would have hated to see all that food go to waste.”

“Is the alliance threatened?” Callum asked.

“Old man MacKay is so embarrassed by his daughter’s actions that he gladly signed a peace treaty just to sweep it all under the rug.”

Gillian got up from her fireside chair and walked over, looking closely at Kerry. “You love him, don’t you?” she asked.

“I do,” Kerry replied. “With all my heart.”

“Then you have my blessing.”

He smiled as he turned from the battlement and descended the stairs to the courtyard. He was lucky for many reasons. The bitter rivalry with the MacKays was at least temporarily abated. He had met a woman who’d traveled across centuries to be with him, a beautiful, a woman who was waiting for him in the chapel at that very moment.

He was lucky that Edward hadn’t snatched her away from him. He was lucky that she was so fast on her feet that Edward had fallen out of the tower window when he had managed to sneak into the castle to attack her. He was lucky that she hadn’t returned to the future. He was lucky she had decided to stay.

He smiled as he pushed open the doors of the chapel and walked inside. Abbot Fingal was standing by the altar. Beside him Kerry was standing in a stunningly beautiful tartan dress. The MacCleod colors suited her. Behind her stood his parents, both of them in their finest attire.

The chapel was crammed with people. Everyone but the guards on duty had squeezed in. They all watched Callum as he walked in, moving aside to allow him to pass through the crowd.

“Glad you decided to join us,” Alan whispered as Callum passed him. “It’s bloody freezing in here and your bride to be is turning into an icicle waiting for you.”

“He’s on time,” Gillian hissed. “You kept me waiting for over an hour, remember.”

Alan colored as Callum walked by to stand beside Kerry.

The abbot smiled at them both, clearing his throat before beginning. “We are gathered here today in the sight of God and the MacCleod clan to witness the blessed union of two people dear in the hearts of many. Kerry, since your arrival I hear tell you have revolutionized the way meals are prepared in the castle kitchen.”

“I only showed them how to prep a few things,” she replied.

“It was a lot more than that,” someone shouted from the back. Callum turned to see one of the cooks step forward. “She’s taught me how to make scones, sponge cake, Norman toast, jam tarts. I never knew of such things until she came along. God bless that woman.”

“If I might continue,” the abbot said. “Kerry, you have brought joy to many but you brought the most joy to Callum MacCleod, son of Alan and Gillian who both give their consent for this union today. Callum, you have protected the clan for years with your men.”

“Aye,” said a chorus of gruff voices at the back of the chapel, one of them adding, “When he’s not off chasing women or drinking ale.”

A ripple of laughter went around the chapel.

The abbot ignored them. “If you two are to wed today know this. You become part of the highlands. You marry not just each other but also God and Scotland. If you agree to this, say aye.”

“Aye,” they said in unison.

“Callum, will you take this woman to be your wife, to protect and to worship, to take care of for the rest of your lives, to love and cherish until the day you die?”

“I will.”

“Kerry, will you take this highland fool for your husband, to protect and to worship, to take care of for the rest of your lives, to love and cherish until the day you die?”

“I will.”

“Do you have the rings that show all here present that you are true to your vows?”

Alan and Gillian held out their hands, palms upward, two gold rings waiting to be taken.

Callum took his first, sliding it onto Kerry’s finger, looking at her all the while.

Kerry lifted hers from Gillian’s hand, looking at it in wonder and smiling as she placed it onto Callum’s finger.

“You are now wed in the eyes of God and man and the highlands themselves,” the abbot said. “Go forth from this place as husband and wife and gather heather under the gate with my blessing.”

The crowd streamed out of the church, Callum and Kerry last to leave as tradition dictated. They made their way hand in hand to the gate where a sprig of heather had been placed on a slab of wood on the ground. Callum lifted the heather into the air, showing it to the crowd before attaching it to Kerry’s dress with a silver pin. With that done the crowd cheered and as they did so he leaned forward, kissing his wife for the very first time.

The feast came next. Everyone in the local villages had provided something and the tables sagged with the weight of it all. There was no space to move in the great hall, everyone talking and laughing, indulging in what might be the last large meal before the winter. Rumor was it that snow was coming and soon all would be hunkered down to ride out the cold months.

The thought of winter was far from anyone’s thoughts while they ate, cheering the happy couple who sat together on the dais, surrounded by wellwishers.

“Are you happy?” Callum asked, seeing Kerry examining the ring on her finger. “Not having second thoughts?”

“I couldn’t be happier,” she replied. “This is where I was always supposed to be. I know that now. What about you? Wouldn’t you rather have married Nessa?”

“I would rather have wed a sheep than her.”

“So you’re calling me a sheep?”

“No, that’s not what I…” He smiled. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” She winked and blew him a kiss as a horn echoed around the room.

The talking died down as Alan stood up, his tankard held high in the air. “I wish to read you a poem.”

Callum frowned. His father had never shown any interest in poetry.

“It was told to me by my father on my wedding day and today I hand it to my son who may one day pass it to his.” He cleared his throat, his voice becoming quieter.

“Our land we bought with blood violent spilt,

Many have died to stitch the MacCleod quilt,

We remember them now and shall never forget,

All they’ve done for our clan and yet,

Today we look beyond all that is gone and past,

To the future of these two and may their love last,

Until the end of time when the last star doth fall,

So please raise a glass in cheer one and all.”

An earsplitting roar went up around the room and Alan turned to Callum. “To my son and his wife, may they grant me a grandson to add one more panel to the MacCleod quilt.”

“I have something to say.”

The room fell quiet. At the furthest table a figure was rising. It was Moira. She had not been seen since Orm’s funeral and was still wearing the clothes of mourning. In her arms she held a tiny sleeping baby.

She looked straight at Callum as she continued. “If Orm were here today he would have something to say but I must say it on his behalf.” She paused, a tear rolling down her cheek. “May God bless your marriage as He once blessed mine.” She sat down again without another word, rocking the baby slowly from side to side.

The feast continued long into the night. Outside snow began to silently fall, coating the castle and the land beyond in a blanket of white. The thick flakes hissed when they landed on the torches that illuminated the courtyard.

Eventually the door to the great hall opened and Callum emerged with his new bride. Behind them the abbot walked slowly, muttering his prayers. The door was pulled closed once more to keep the heat in as the three of them walked up the stairs to the bedchamber. The noise died away as they climbed. Kerry paused at an arrow slit to look outside at the falling snow. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

“Aye,” Callum replied, kissing her cheek, “though nowhere near as beautiful as you.”