Having left Declan and Jacobus to begin their new ministries in the first two settlements, I was at the mercy of whatever I might find at the third. Any fears I might have had were soon proven groundless, though, for the last site was the most beautiful of the three, and I felt at peace there from the moment I saw it. It lay the farthest from Will’s main encampment, a full half-hour’s walk, but it was set in a tranquil and lovely place, a gently sloping, oak-grown, and mosscovered hillside above a wide, rocky stream. The rocky hilltop above the settlement was split by a yawning ravine, exposing sheer sides where great slabs of stone, stained by lichen and moss, appeared to be bound together by a network of massive, mossy tree roots. I could see several cave openings up there, and guessed that people had been using these natural shelters for habitation long before Will Wallace and his outlaws came this way.
Today, the caves were being used by Alan Crawford of Nithsdale and the crew of men assigned to him to build shelter for the newcomers. Alan’s was the largest of the crews I had seen, and their work was well in hand when we arrived. I counted six sturdy military-style barrack buildings made of heavy, new-cut logs. Four of those already bore thick roofs, and the remaining two were raftered and being covered with planking that would soon be covered with a thin coating of sod.
Alan remembered me and greeted me cordially as soon as I dismounted.
“Well met again,” I said to him, shaking his hand. “If this is to be my new home—and it appears it is—I thank you for preparing it against my coming. But where is everyone else?”
Alan pointed a thumb towards his men, who were already back at work. “We’re a’ there is for now. The new settlers winna start comin’ till tomorrow. That’s whit wey we’re tryin’ to get these last twa huts finished afore it gets dark. That first group will a’ be men, mind—about twa score o’ them—and we’ll put them to work the minute they get here. They’ll build mair huts, bigger yins, for families, weemin and bairns.”
“Ah. And at what time do you start work in the morning?”
He looked at me blankly. “Why, when we ha’e broken fast.”
“Prayed and broken fast, you mean, do you not?” I said.
He grinned. “Aye, of course … now that you’re here, Father James.”
“Good. Mass will be at daybreak. You can let your men know.”
He nodded, still smiling, and walked away, and I turned to Will.
“What? You’ve got that old Will Wallace look on your face. What are you thinking?”
He gave a small shrug. “Nothing. I was just wondering where you will say your first Mass. You’ll need an altar.”
“No, I won’t. Not a real one, not at first. You know that as well as I do. Any flat surface will do—any tabletop, anywhere, as long as it’s big enough to hold the altar stone.”
“Fine. But you will need a church of some description, sooner or later, even if it’s no more than a roof on pillars, a shelter to keep your people dry in foul weather. We can build you a real altar then. But you’ll have to tell Alan’s builder yourself what you need. Don’t leave it to Alan to instruct him, or you’ll be sorry. Alan’s a fine organizer and driver of men, but he’s none too good with abstract notions. The builder’s name is Davie Ogilvie, and he’s a northerner like Shoomy. You’ll do well to put yourself in his good graces, for he can build anything you can describe to him. He’ll build you a cathedral out of kindling, if that’s what you ask for.”
“I’ll settle for a solid little chapel, but I’m grateful for the advice. In the meantime, though, where should I sleep tonight? Do you know or care?”
“Neither one nor the other, Cuz. Alan’s people are sleeping in the finished huts over there, but I think that might not suit your needs anyway … nor theirs, now that I think about it. A priest should have a place to be alone and do whatever priests do when they’re alone.” He paused, then waved towards the nearest cave. “Were I you, I’d throw my belongings in there. It’s dry, and it’s warm and draft free, with a couple of separate chambers, and Alan has told me it has a natural chimney that draws smoke right up through the roof.”
“So if it’s that good, why isn’t Alan himself using it?”
Will grinned and ducked his head. “Because I told him to leave it for you. I knew you’d be coming, sooner or later.”
“You sly snake! You asked Wishart to send me here, didn’t you?”
“Not in so many words. It was more of a suggestion, a word of encouragement. I knew he’d send you anyway. He needs you as a go-between from him to me, so it makes sense to have you billeted with me, where you can do the most good.”