“The MacGregors fought back, of course,” Graham said. “Naturally, they directed their attacks against those who had wrested their land and their livestock from them. They were brutal and feared by all. They killed and slaughtered many until their oppressors were forced to obtain royal assistance in putting an end to the troublesome tribe. Given noble titles and the right to hunt their enemies with dogs, the Campbells and some others provoked the MacGregors into more acts of violence, and the formidable clan was only too happy to oblige.”
“Driven from Glen Orchy, the MacGregor chiefs lived at Stronmelochan at the foot of Glenstrae,” Brodie added. “While the Campbells expanded eastward into Breadalbane.”
“Aye,” Graham agreed. “’Twas up to the Glenstrae MacGregors to carry on the resistance, but their chiefs were hunted down and murdered, their sons along with them, and their land taken, also. When the Protestant parliament, many of whom are Campbells, declared it illegal to be a Catholic, many Highlanders joined the Gordon clan chieftain in his fight against the realm. But the chieftain was beheaded, and the clans who backed him were pursued with fire and sword.”
“To this day, we are considered papist heretics,” Jamie muttered quietly.
“After a particularly bloody battle at Glen Fruin, a half century ago, the clan was proscribed,” Graham continued. “The name MacGregor, abolished. They are forbidden to bear it.”
Kate nodded, knowing a little about their proscription and what it meant. “All lieges are prohibited from bearing them aid,” she said, repeating the creed she’d heard her uncle say many times.
“Aye,” Graham confirmed and then added, “They have been stripped of every basic human need, including the right to bear arms and the right to gather together in one place. They are hunted, men, women, and children alike, and their heads are used as pardon fer the most vicious of crimes. Care of the aged and the sick is still refused to them. Even the sacraments of baptism, marriage, and burial are denied. And yet the MacGregors remain, despite everything.”
They were to be forgotten.
Jamie tore a hunk of bread away from his loaf and offered it to Kate, breaking her thoughts. She’d known the MacGregors were forbidden to bear their name, but she’d believed they had forfeited that right by defying every decree set forth by the realm. She had no idea their proscription had stripped them of so much more. Did her kin truly have so much to do with the annihilation of an entire clan? It was difficult to believe. Why hadn’t Amish or John ever told her any of this? Mayhap they were afraid of contradicting her uncle. They never judged the MacGregors, even knowing they killed her father. She closed her eyes and inhaled, gathering the strength to ask her next query and the courage to hear the reply.
“Is this why Callum killed my grandfather? What did my father do to deserve his wrath?”
“I do not know anything about yer father, lass,” Graham answered her and untied his belt, settling more comfortably into his plaid. “But Callum did not kill yer grandfather.”
“But everyone knows the Devil—”
“They know only what yer uncle believes to be true. Mayhap yer father and yer grandfather fought. We Highlanders know Colin Campbell did not agree with his father’s tactics against the MacGregors. Mayhap he—”
Kate rose to her feet and held up her palm to stop him. She was not about to listen to such treachery against her father. “Has the Devil convinced you of this?”
“Nae,” he said, never flinching at her challenge. “Callum does not pretend to know what happened. But he did not kill Liam Campbell.”
“How do you know?” Kate demanded.
“I know because I was with Callum in Skye when he learned of yer grandfather’s death. He near went mad again.”
“Again?” Kate asked, barely able to breathe.
“Aye. The revenge was his to take. He earned it.” Graham did not give the full meaning of his words time to seep in before he spoke again. “When Callum was a lad, yer grandfather and his army rode into his village and killed everyone in it, including the laird Dougal MacGregor and his wife. The chieftain, ’twas rumored, had begun a new rebellion and had been known to declare his name openly. Yer grandfather had them all slaughtered, save fer Dougal’s young son and daughter. To them, he delivered a harsher punishment than death. Callum and his sister grew to maturity below the belly of Kildun Castle, where they paid fer their father’s crime.”
“Maggie was but five summers auld when they took her.” Jamie’s voice was low and riddled with anger Kate had not heard in it before.
She stared at him through a heavy haze of tears. She wanted to shout at them all that what they told her was false. Her grandfather would never have done such a vile thing. Her father surely knew naught of it. He had children of his own! He would have done something. My God, had he done something? Did Colin Campbell kill his own father, mayhap in the heat of an argument? Nae! Never! She refused to believe any of it. She did not come from such merciless ilk. She wanted to tell Graham, but the sob poised behind her lips stopped her from opening her mouth. She willed her feet to move. She needed to be away from them, away from the contempt she saw in their eyes when they looked at her. Now she understood it better. She turned, ready to make her way to a tree closer to the shadows. But she stopped, unwilling to run away from them as her uncle had. What could she say to them? If all this was true, what could she possibly say?
“I am sorry for what my kin have done. I know it is not enough, but I would have you know it just the same.”
Graham smiled, turning to watch her as she settled down for the night a few feet away from them. “That’s the first Campbell who has ever apologized to a MacGregor.”
“Aye.” Brodie nodded, then smiled with him. Angus chuckled, thinking the apology was even more satisfying than his brew.
“Is it aright if I like her?” Jamie asked in all seriousness, and he knew that it was when the others burst into hearty laughter.
Chapter Ten
KATE WAS AWAKE when Callum returned to them early the next morn. How could she sleep when images of women’s branded faces and children living out their lives in a dungeon invaded her every thought?
Quietly, she watched him dismount and look around, making certain they were all there, safe. His men still slept, rolled in their plaids, scattered around the dying embers of their campfire. When he saw her, he dropped his gaze to the ground, then turned to tie his reins to a nearby tree.
“Did you kill my father?” she asked him, needing to know the truth. Her grandfather may have deserved Callum’s wrath, but her father did not.
“I never knew yer faither.”
