Donal' Ch. 03

Laughter made him turn around to see Mhari standing at the water's edge. He held up the hand clutching his soap, "Surprise!" He grinned from ear to ear as he gathered up his clothes and threw them on the grass.

Mhari held out her arms to him. "Come here, ye dafty!" Donal' strode from the water and Mhari linked her hands behind his neck.

He placed his hands on her buttocks and she squealed in surprise as he lifted her up. "Now here's a change; ye'r all warm and I'm the cold one!"

Mhari leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder. "Aye, but ye smell nice."

Donal' set her feet back on the ground, held her at arm's length to look in her eyes. "Ye'r feeling better?"

"Much! And the clothes fit!"

"Which reminds me." He turned from her and threw his kilt and tunic over some bushes to catch the sun and light breeze. He caught Mhari looking at his kilt.

"It's blue! I thought it was brown."

"It is and it was, and I'll be blue as well if I stay out here. Race ye back!" Donal' ran through the ruins to the east tower. Mhari hitched up her skirt and ran after him.

Donal' wrapped his cloak about his shoulders and rubbed his hands in front of the fire. He looked up to Mhari. "We can't stay here long. Those two," he nodded his head to where he had killed two men, "will have friends." His gaze dropped to the fire. "My faither is dead. They killed him before they came for me."

"Oh, Donal'! I'm so sorry!" Mhari placed a hand on his shoulder.

Donal' looked back up at Mhari. "I must find out why he was killed."

"Where will ye start?"

"Edinburgh. To find the man I took my faither's papers to. Maybe he can shed some light on this matter."

"I'll come with ye."

"Ye don't have to, Mhari."

"I want to. And there's the matter of the Templar sword, it should be returned to the rightful owners. My faither mentioned Rosslyn Chapel."

"We should go soon, before it gets dark. I have to stop off at my faither's house, have a drink to him."

Mhari squeezed his shoulder and stared off into the distance. "Aye, ye must. He'll be watching."

They packed what little they had onto the two ponies; the sword in its case was strapped to the back of Mhari's and the coins were emptied into saddlebags and strapped to Donal's.

Mhari retrieved her favourite rapier from the arms rack before locking the door and throwing the key into the coals of the fire.

Donal' dressed in his still damp tunic and kilt and took a last look around his home of the last few days.

*

Donal' dismounted and handed the reins to Mhari. "I'll see if I can arrange passage," he said, nodding towards the jetty.

Mhari looked around in the gatheringgloam. Cannach had not changed in the intervening years, though it was quieter than she remembered. The lassies still gossiped near the Merkat Cross and the laddies still postured nearby. Her gaze wandered past the two masted ship, anchored offshore, to Donal' and a ship's officer in conversation. Coins were passed and hands shaken. Donal' strode back to her with a smile on his face.

"Ye were successful?"

"Aye! I've arranged for us to board tonight. We sail for Oban at first light." Mhari handed him his reins and he remounted. "Time to say my respects."

His father's house was half a mile up the glen from Cannach, one of a group of half a dozen smalltigh geal, the white houses more common to these parts of the island. It was obvious to Mhari which one they were heading for and why Cannach was quiet: the wake had spilled out of the front door and drunken revelers danced outside to the music of a pipe and drum.

A sixpence handed to a young lad on the outskirts of the festivities ensured the safety of their ponies and belongings. Donal' was greeted with hugs and backslapping while Mhari was eyed with suspicion by the locals. They entered the small dwelling to find a half-drunken Callum. He had made it his duty to keep everyone's glasses filled with the local stout oruisge beatha,the water of life.

"Ye'r doing a fine job, Callum," said Donal'. "Faither would be right proud of ye." He looked over to where his father was laid out on his bed, arms folded on his chest, a penny placed on each closed eye. He walked through the momentarily quiet room to his father's side and gazed down at the lifeless body.

"Ye were good to me, faither, and I'll miss ye. May the lord look after ye, now." Donal' raised his glass ofuisge in a toast and swallowed the rich, peaty drink down.

There were shouts of "MacDonald!" around the room and outside as everyone raised their glasses, followed by a sudden press of bodies around Callum for refills.

Donal' spotted Helen leaning against the thick, stone wall holding her glass in both hands, dried tears on her cheeks. He made his way through the jostling crowd to hold her hands and lift her chin up. "Don't be sad, lass. Faither will be remembered for a long time after this." He waved a hand to indicate the people present.

"Aye. But I'll miss him."

"I know ye will, lass, that's why I want you to have this place." Helen caught her breath at this. "I have no need of it, I need to go away for awhile and I don't know when I'll return. Faither would want it that way."

"Aye. He does. He's pleased with ye, Donal'" Mhari stood behind him and stared beyond the bed his father's body lay on.

Donal' glanced from the bed to Mhari, and back to Helen. "I'll tell Callum." Once Callum knew, the whole of the island would know.

"Thank ye, Donal'." Helen hugged him and kissed his cheek.