Chapter 53

On an exceptionally hot summer evening, a banquet raged in the great hall. I sat bored and restless as the drunken shouts of men and courtiers echoed through the thick, sweltering air. Fanning myself with my hand, I watched the disorderly scene devolve as men staggering on legs of ale attempted to clear the benches and tables to the side of the hall. They wanted to dance, apparently. How they would survive such activity without bodily injury was perplexing enough that I was willing to stick around to watch.

Father stood in the middle of the hoard, attempting to direct the operation as he emptied tankard after tankard. His face was mottled with a red flush and a sheen of sweat beaded on his brow and cheeks. Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth. It was grotesque and my heart ached to see it. Turning to my left, I shared a poignant stare with my mother. She glanced away, cheeks florid. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she shook her head.

Not here. I could almost hear her scold me.

She found such scenes such as the one before us, a necessary evil. A way for the men to blow off steam after years spent in life-or-death agony. I found the near-nightly parties and banquets cruel and embarrassing. They exploited the broken minds and spirits of wounded men. Neither of us could tolerate the other's opinion — though truth existed on both sides of the argument.

"Do you want to go?" Alex asked, muttering into my ear. He pinched his face in disgust. "I'm sure you've endured a long enough appearance for the populace to be appeased."

The heat of the room and the humiliation before me made me prickly. It stoked at the anger that simmered ever-present in my breast. I scoffed. "And miss all the fun?"

He chuckled sadly and rolled his eyes, "Right, we might miss another duel."

Groaning, I picked up my fan from the table and doubled my efforts for a breeze. A fortnight ago, there had been a challenge of honor in the great hall. No one had died, but the stabbing had been severe and the pool of blood ghastly to witness the next morning. Hungover and cursing my name, I forced the assailant to clean up his mess. The servants deserved better than mopping up the attempted murder. The man had been some great leader in my father's army and I was punished for disgracing him with scouring. I endured quite the dressing down, but I did not mind. I took my lashings and had Angus double the guard. By nightfall, all the weapons on castle grounds had been confiscated. That sparked yet another row.

A man trying to carry a bench longer than he was tall stumbled and fell, smacking his face into the hard stone floor with a crack that caused a collective cry to go up in the room. Laughing, eyes glassy from drink, he sat up. Holding aloft his two front teeth and beaming for all the world as if such a loss was a funny joke.

"I think that's all for me," I said as my stomach churned.

It was well past midnight, and I was ready to close my eyes against today's hellscape. And, if sleep could not save me, at least I could strip off my suffocating clothes and lie naked in the breeze.

"Thank god," Alex sighed, making the move to get up.

As I collected my things, the noise in the hall lowered, fading out into a tense silence. Looking up, I noticed everyone's attention was on the would-be dance floor. Laughter and suggestive hoots rang out, changing the tone of the crowd from drunk and disorderly to drunk and leering. Standing up to better see over the crowd, I spied John walking through the hall hand-in-hand with a dark-haired woman dressed in what was obviously a wedding gown.

Popping up beside me, Alex asked, "What is this?"

John stopped before Father and bowed. The woman curtsied. They made the same display of deference to my mother, sitting at the head table a seat down from where I stood.

"Mother, Father, please allow me to introduce you to my wife, Meredith MacEnroe."

Cheers exploded around the hall. John and the woman were caught in a steady stream of hugs, jeers, and slaps on the back. They splashed the poor bride with wine and ale as unsteady tankards clanged together above her head. They wished John and Meredith good health and many children.

"Well, I suppose we know where he was sneaking off to, now," Alex quipped. His eyes were watchful, scanning the scene attentively.

There was a ripple of something in the air. A delicate balance that seemed to come undone. I couldn't explain it, but it did not surprise me when my mother stood up, slamming her hands down on the head table. Her face was livid, her cheeks pale and her lips pulled back in a sneer.

"Enough!" she shouted over the din.

Her protest went unheard.

Louder this time, she banged her fists against the table hard enough to make the plates and goblets rattle. She screamed with her whole body, "I said that is enough!"

The hall quieted, the silence uneasy. Men shifted as they settled down and turned to observe their lady in the uncharacteristic performance of an outburst.

"Enough disrespect. Enough forgetfulness of how things are to be. Goddamn it, Johnathan, this is not how marriages are made. Who is this woman? Some village trash you caught with a babe? Are all my daughters-in-law to be low-born filth?"

"How dare you!" My voice was an animal snarl. It ripped out of my throat without warning.

Walther, deep in the crowd, pushed through to the head table. He was seething, his hands clenched into tight fists at his side. John's wife cowered at his side. He stepped in front of her, shielding her from my mother's sight.

Mother turned on me. "You," she drawled, pointing her finger at my face. "You caused all of this. This breakdown in order and propriety."

I pushed her finger away, impassive. The tone, the violence, was recognizable. Mother was having one of her attacks of battle madness. It was easier if I didn't respond to it, didn't rise to the occasion. "I don't even know who that woman is," I said.

John's new wife was no one I had ever seen before. Either she was new to Stormway or she had been remarkably reclusive during the war years.

Mother's eyes flashed and her smile grew wider. She laughed, her head tipping back. The brittle, horrific sound of her amusement made my hair stand on end. "I know just how to deal with you," she said once she composed herself.

She turned her attention to the crowd, scanning it. When she found who she sought, she snapped her fingers in Innis' direction. "You there. Uppity little girl who likes to recite laws in the most petulant, simpering kind of way."

Innis turned her attention to my mother, dragging her focus from the woman she sat beside. Rupert, I noticed, was seated on her other side.

Innis blinked at my mother, eyebrows high and eyes bright with innocence. "Me, my lady? Why ever would you require my assistance?" Her voice dripped with sugary sweetness. To anyone who knew her, it was obvious the charm masked scorn more visceral than she had ever let slip before.

Mother was no fool, used to courtiers she saw through Innis' coquettish display. She looked at me, disgusted. "Do you see the contempt for authority you allow to run unrepentant?"

I shook my head, at a total loss as to what was happening or what point my mother was trying to prove. Apologetically, I shrugged at Innis, baffled. Answering mother, I said, "I have nothing to do with John eloping, Mother."

"Oh, maybe not, Eilean. Maybe not." Her voice was a cruel purr. "But you will."

The entire hall was silent, hanging on her whispered threat.

When Mother smiled at me, there was nothing but hatred in the expression. "I think it's high time the rightful rulers took back control of Stormway, don't you? Your brothers need to learn their lesson. Remember to whom they are beholden. But you, you..." She laughed. "It's time you learned and accepted your place."

I stared her down, unflinching. Alex's hand was an iron support around my waist. She was out of her mind if she thought she could frighten me.

"Your Father will host a Gathering at harvest time." Her voice echoed through the hall and bounced off the cold stone walls. She looked across the crowd. "Or have you all forgotten to whom you have bent the knee? Who did you follow into battle? Who is your rightful Laird?"

A prickle of unease spiderwebbed up my back. I swayed against Alex's strength.

The response to my mother's call-to-arms was more lackluster than she expected. Men grunted and shrugged their shoulders. No cheers. No wishes for Father's long life. No cries of loyalty. It only stoked her anger.

"We will hold a Fealty," Mother continued, pushing the matter forward. "Every man on Ellesmure must come and pledge loyalty to Laird MacLeod."

"Very well," I said, growing tired of this pageantry. Let others pledge their lives to Father. I'd still be running things as I was now, with or without the title.

Mother smirked at my nonchalance. "But first we'll hold your Standing."

Her words cut through the heat like a blade of ice. My vision narrowed to a pinpoint and only Mother was in my scope. Only she and I existed in the shadows that had descended all around us and blocked out the heat, the crowd, the hall. My knees buckled. I balked at the haughty expression of triumph on her face. It twisted her features into something ugly and spiteful. Had I ever found her lovely? She was hideous.

"I disbanded The Standing," I said, thankful my voice did not shake.

"Which is why your annoying friend is so useful," Mother gestured back at Innis. "Who controls the tradition of The Standing?"

Innis opened her mouth, then shut it, refusing to answer.

"Answer her," I said, knowing full well that my mother would not have broached the question if she did not already know the answer.

"The Laird of the Island in question," Innis answered through gritted teeth.

"Very good," Mother cooed. "And who is Laird?" She directed this question at me.

I spared a glance at my father, who had passed out during the proceedings. Slumped over on a bench off to the side of the room, snoring and slobbering onto his wine-stained waistcoat.

"Father," I ground out.

Mother nodded and then looked back at Innis. "And daughters are the property of whom?" She asked archly.

This was a double attack, intended to wound both Innis and me. A threat that implied that Mother would have no qualms or hesitation in turning Innis back over to her murderous father. Mother, it seemed, was perfectly comfortable sentencing Innis to death. It made me sick.

Innis crossed her arms and stared my mother down, pure hatred twisting her pretty features into a look most feral. It was an impressive feat, given that Innis was turned out in her usual finery and looked every bit like a creampuff.

"We are removing that clause, you know. The Delegation is abolishing all ownership claims. Once the new Charter is signed, your threats are as good as null." Calum spoke up this time, his dark eyes flashing and his jovial face, usually twisted in delight and teasing, looked deadly.

"But is it signed?" Mother asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him. A grotesque performance of peevishness.

Calum looked down, refusing to answer.

No, the new Charter was not signed. So I was... I swooned, my knees giving out as I realized my situation was so much worse than I had ever imagined. Alex caught me and helped me back onto my feet.

"If you want her married, fine. Find the priest and I will marry here this minute," Alex said, his voice full of anger. "But stop this. You're embarrassing yourself. Must you put your own daughter down?"

"Oh no," Mother said, shaking her head and tutting. "I don't much care how I look or how Eilean feels. I only care that order is restored. And Lairds get to make the rules, don't they, little girl?" This was directed at Innis.

Innis grunted and turned away from my mother. Rupert looked savage. He frowned and clenched his jaw as he stared at Mother. The girl beside Innis rubbed my friend's back.

"So set your rules, then. Alex and I will adhere to them." I said, drained. I'd give her whatever she wanted so long as I could leave the room and rid myself of her presence.

Mother beamed, "No Mainlanders will be allowed to participate in The Standing."

At this pronouncement, a ripple of protests came from the crowd. Maids, servants, farmers who had lived at the castle during my family's absence gasped and muttered their disagreement. A dull roar howled like wind in my head. I fought to maintain my steady breathing.

"What are you doing?" Alex interjected, his words hollow, the threat of a sob in his throat. I could feel from the quick intake of his breaths and the passion in his voice that he was in despair. "I will marry her tonight and take her to the Mainland at dawn. You want to be rid of her? So be it."

My heart collapsed at the thought. Mother could force me to leave my people, my home. I would do it, but only because I had to. It was clear I was no longer safe at Stormway. Leaving behind my people to the mercy of these madmen, however, seemed like the cruelest punishment when no wrong had been done. I met my mother's gaze, astonished to see her gloating.

"Why do you hate me so?"

"You are a member of this family, Eilean MacLeod, and you will no longer shirk your responsibilities."

Another rumble of protest from the crowd. Her eyes flickered at that, the corners of her mouth dropped just enough for me to see she was surprised by the dissension.

I gestured to the room, flinging my arms out to show the castle brimming with food and courtiers. I laughed, my outrage reaching its breaking point. "I'm so sorry you had a home to come back to. I'm sorry I kept your people alive instead of leaving them to die of starvation." Shaking my head, I stepped out of Alex's protective hold. "Shirk my responsibilities? Show me when I have ever done so. Show me what reward I have for breaking myself to keep your island afloat. You give me nothing but contempt and derision."

"You continue to deny your father his rightful place as Laird!" Mother screamed.

I pointed to Father, slumped over in his own waste. He had soiled himself in his sleep. "Are you blind? Are you in so much denial? Do you think that man can run this estate? Do you think he gives a shit about anything but his drink?"

Mother sniffed, raising herself up to her full height. "He will recover. I have every confidence in it."

She was delusional. Altogether disconnected from the obvious. I scoffed at her idiocy and turned to leave, done with her nonsense.

Seeing my retreat, Mother squared herself, brushed a wrinkle out of her skirt. She caught my arm in a vice-like grip as I passed by her to climb down from the platform upon which the head table stood.

"You are a lady, Eilean. As your mother, I cannot have you spoiling your body and mind with this endless toiling. You're already ruined, rutting day in and day out with Lord Leslie. It'll be a wonder if any man wants you at all. You're an embarrassment to the legacy of the MacLeod name. You tarnish the honor of this house. Cavorting with servants, running around in breeches, digging in fields. You're a disgrace. To me, to your father, and to your brother's sacrifices in the war."

The air left my body in a sharp whoosh, the wind knocked out of me. I looked up at her, speechless. I could only stare into her cold, unfeeling eyes. Mouth open, thoughts scattered.

"You're the disgrace, woman!" someone called out from the crowd. A female voice. I didn't know it. There was a chorus of echoing agreements.

"Eilean is our lady!" someone else shouted.

Mother looked at them, jaw slack. Her grip loosened.

I wrenched my arm from my mother's grasp. I fought against the instinct to retreat into the void, the emptiness of my mind.

My voice a whisper, I asked again, "Why do you hate me?"

A betraying tear slipped down my cheek. The proof of a child's unhealed wound and lifelong grief. I had never fit in. Had never been cared for by the ones who should have loved me the most.

"You are unnatural, Eilean. It makes you impossible to endure."

I doubled over, so strong was the effect of her words. Were they not the confirmation I had always sought?

"You're an evil woman." Alex cursed at her, catching me as I pitched forward. His voice was dangerous, hardly audible.

"Bitch!" someone in the crowd yelled.

"Come on, Eilean," Alex half carried me, half marched me out of the hall.

As we passed through the crowd, their pitiful stares seared into my memory. A brand I would never forget. There was no overcoming the shame and hatred and sorrow I felt now.

Dimly, from the corner of my eyes, I realized Alex and I did not walk alone. Calum, Innis, Angus, Bess, and my brothers followed me out. A silent, reassuring army of my own. We exited the nightmare of the great hall and retreated into the tender caress of the night.