Throughout the night, the heavy wind-driven rains had pelted Celia's windows, but when she awoke, it seemed that the storm had moved inside the castle walls. Sounds of shouting and turmoil were coming from the Great Hall. Celia threw on her clothes and ran down the hallway to the top of the stairs. She froze.
The hall was a sea of human motion. Soldiers and servants were bringing in injured men and women. The sound of frightened, crying children filled the air, punctuated by Lord Hugh's commands.
Spotting Agnes, Celia hurried down the steps, working her way through the crowd toward her. As she passed the wounded, Celia could see and smell the gashes and the burns that covered great portions of many of the victims. She shuddered involuntarily, and a cold sweat broke out on her body. She knew only too well the signs. She knew the devil that had caused this suffering. Had he arrived so soon in the west? Was he already here at her door?
“Celia, are you all right, child?” Agnes asked, placing a hand gently on Celia's arm. She had seen the young woman pale at the sight of the burned peasants. Agnes knew that Celia had been through this before, and her heart went out to her.
“Who are these people?” Celia asked, regaining her composure and focusing on the sights before her.
“Mainlanders from areas to the south of our land. Mostly peasant folk.” Agnes decided not to trouble her with the sketchy details that were beginning to emerge.
“Who did this, Agnes?”
“We do not know, darling. Colin, Alec, and your uncle are down at the harbor right now. These folks say that there are more boats coming.”
As Celia's eyes roamed the room, she could see that many of these people needed immediate attention. Agnes's helpers were circulating in the room, but there were more injured than they could handle by themselves.
“How can I help?”
Agnes looked into Celia's face. The clear, steady gaze assured her that the young woman was back in form. Agnes handed her a bundle of clean dressings, and watched as Celia went to work.
Over the next four hours, Agnes saw Celia take control of the activities around her. Large bowls of hot water were continually being brought in from the kitchen as they moved quickly among the injured, cleaning wounds and stitching deep cuts with long needles and white thread. Those with burns were carefully stripped of their charred clothing. Agnes watched Celia gently apply the salves that she had been given. She almost seemed to absorb the pain, sharing in the suffering of the folk she tended. Those she worked with seemed to gain strength from her very touch. Working in harmony with their helpers, Celia and Agnes brought some comfort to those whose lives had just been torn apart.
Weary, Celia wiped the blood of the last wounded farmer from her hands, and sat for a moment with the group of children huddled together by the doors to the Entry Room. These young ones will be the long term casualties, Celia thought. No parents, no home, no hope for a future. A nightmare that could last a lifetime.
Alec Macpherson entered the Great Hall and, as he crossed to Lord Hugh, looked around him at the groups of suffering people who had come to the Campbells for refuge. As those in the Highlands trusted his own father, these common folk on the coast trusted Colin's. Like the Macpherson's Benmore Castle, Kildalton would always be a refuge for those in need. This was one tradition, this tradition of trust, that he and Colin would definitely preserve.
Celia stood and hurried toward Alec and Lord Hugh, hoping to learn something about the situation. She reached them just as Agnes did, listening to Alec's news.
“Some of the boats Colin sent out are just returning from the mainland. He asked me to tell you that there's no force following these people. Whatever the English are doing, they're staying to the south. But your soldiers at Oban are on the alert.”
“Good. Are there any more injured coming in?” Lord Hugh asked.
“Nay. When I came up, though, there was one small boat with a few who are not injured. And there is a priest with them.”
A priest! Celia thought, her mind running ahead of the information that Alec was conveying. A priest!
“Lord Hugh, I'd like to go down there,” Celia said as Alec finished speaking. She had to find out if the priest was William Dunbar.
“Colin wants some blankets and food sent down to the church for this last group,” Alec responded. “I'm going back to see if there's anything new, so I can take you down if you like.”
Celia nodded and ran quickly to her room. Checking on Ellen and Kit, she informed Ellen of the events and returned to the Great Hall with her heavy cloak thrown around her shoulders.
Without another word the two left for the harbor.
As they hurried along the stone road that wound down to the village, Celia was aware of the fatigue that was clouding her mind. Alec, trying to lighten the silent mood that hung over them like the gray drizzly day, searched for a topic that they could converse upon.
“It always impresses me that these sailors can keep their bearings on sunless days like this,” Alec said as the harbor came into view beyond the village they had just entered.
“They have to. It is their living,” Celia responded, peering unsuccessfully through the mists toward the jetties at the base of the stone-paved road.
“Your uncle tells me that you've done quite a bit of sailing in your lifetime.”
“Aye,” Celia answered, only half attending to what Alec was saying.
“In fact, he says that you are an excellent sailor.”
“My uncle likes to boast about me,” Celia answered, feeling a bit embarrassed by Edmund's avuncular affection. “I pretty much grew up on the water.”
“My whole family has been involved with boats,” Alec said, smiling. Actually, his family had made a fortune raiding merchant ships like the ones Celia grew up on. “But my stomach was never suited to the work.”
“Oh?” Celia really didn't want to trade confessions with Alec Macpherson. Her mind was too preoccupied with the flood of danger spilling northward, and its impact. Once again so close. Once again on her trail. Following them.
But Alec was not one to let a beautiful woman off the hook so easily. He knew from watching them together that Colin was really taken by Celia, and he would respect that. However, this was just innocent conversation. “Did you sail much at court?”
“Not much,” Celia responded shortly, surprised at her own abruptness. He is just being friendly, she thought. I suppose I shouldn't be rude.
“That's understandable,” Alec said with a devilish glint in his eye. “There are gentler, more appropriate pursuits for ladies of the court.”
“Actually, Lord Alec,” Celia snapped. “I did get a chance to navigate the queen's boat in the sailing race during the Anniversary celebration last summer.”
Alec had been at court for the king and queen's tenth wedding anniversary celebration last August, but the festivities included a great deal of hunting, an activity that drew Alec's attention more than any other. The king’s entourage had carried the celebration from Linlithgow to Stirling for the hunting and to Edinburgh for the remainder of the festivities—including sailing races. Alec, though, had stayed at Stirling to hunt with the king for an extra week while the celebration moved on ahead of them.
“You must have sailed quite a bit, then, preparing.”
Celia could see that Alec was in some way impressed.
“We did sail often during the summer, but not as much as I would have liked,” Celia responded. “But there was a great deal going on.”
“I should say so,” Alec said. “And a great deal since.” It was still so hard to believe the amount of changes that Scotland had undergone in the past seven months. And like so many, this woman, too, had undergone so many changes in seven short months. Seven months, Alec thought suddenly.
“You know, Lady Caithness, my family speaks highly of you,” Alec said, watching her expression. “I meant to tell you earlier...I'm sorry that I was not in Scotland when you visited Ambrose at our home in Benmore Castle, but my parents truly enjoyed your stay.”
“I...er...I enjoyed meeting them, too.” Celia darted a look at Alec. Just my luck, she thought. Lady Caithness and the Macphersons. Time to change the subject. “Did you say you do not care to sail, m'lord?”
“I'm a bit prone to seasickness,” Alec said roughly, his attention now turning to the village harbor that lay directly ahead.
There was something that annoyed Celia about the abrupt change in his tone. However, following Alec's look, Celia saw Colin standing with a group of men where the beach and jetty met. The beach that had been empty the day before was now lined for some distance with shallow-bottomed fishing boats. Celia spotted Edmund near two fishermen who were just pulling a boat up onto the beach. As they passed across the Marketcross area, she saw scattered groups of refugees huddled around sputtering turf fires. People were moving about from group to group, and Alec roughly took hold of Celia's arm as they weaved their way through the open square.
Seeing Edmund alone, she knew that Father William had not been among the arrivals. She had known that her uncle would have sent word if Dunbar had arrived, but certain now, Celia felt a mixed sense of relief and disappointment.
Colin saw her. Alec was leading Celia past a group of peasants. The warrior separated himself from the others and walked quickly to them.