Emer and Ernest listened, spellbound.
“She didnae take in Holyrood, too many of the rumors that followed her from the south reached the ears of the courtiers down there in Edinburgh, so her faither, curse him, brought her up to the Highlands. And, in due course, she met Cai Maclachlan an’ Donal Sutherland.
And what once was a passionate hatred of one another reared up into a deathly vengeful antagonism, just the way Enid liked it. She would favor one man and then the next week, favor the other. When she could see Donal plotting a way to get rid of Cai because she was flirting with Maclachlan, then she would switch her favoritism back to Donal. And when she saw Cai scowling and talking to his clan about ways to eliminate Donal Sutherland, back she would go to looking at Cai fondly. She was a Highland clan war waiting and ready to happen, all of her own connivance.
And then one day, out o’ the blue, she agreed to marry Cai Maclachlan. The date was set, the banns were read, and ye could be sure Cai kept himself and Enid inside the keep to make sure nae stray arrows or silent daggers found a way to kill him.
The day dawned, and Enid was nowhere to be seen. She had disappeared in the night, disguised as a maid, and run off with Donal Sutherland.”
Silence greeted this information. This was the first time Emer and Ernest had heard this story. It seemed beyond everything they could have believed possible.
Satisfied they wanted to hear more, the pastor continued.
“Cai Maclachlan was driven to madness. He galloped his horse to where he guessed them to be – a stone tower at the top of one of the tallest Cairngorm mountains – and, tethering his horse when he could ride it nae further up the steep cliffs lest he risk revealing his presence to the guards, he climbed up to the tower by hand with great stealth. He made his way silently to the top uppermost window where the bridal bedchamber was to be found, his dagger held firmly in between his teeth, but that’s as far as he got.
Donal was waiting for him inside the window. When he saw Cai’s hand appear at the window ledge, he loosened the fingers and watched Cai Maclachlan fall to the bottom of the mountain crevasse.
It was a miracle he survived. He landed on a bush that broke his fall. But he was still badly injured enough to experience devastating pain in his joints for the rest of his life.
I was one of the search party who found him. He was close to death, having lain exposed on the mountain for over three days and nights.
“So, that’s why the auld Laird does nae have the strength and mobility of normal men!” Emer gasped.
“Aye, lass. But the story has a reckoning for both men, over and above their rivalry. When he recovered, Cai Maclachlan was a changed man. He sought peace with his neighbors when he became Laird. He settled down with a lovely, kind lady who brought him plenty of good land as a dowry, and she bore him two healthy sons. As a matter of fact, me dear,” here the pastor indicated at Emer, “ye remind me a bit of her. Besides her sweet nature, Lady Maclachlan was also dark of hair and eye – her family tree having plenty of cousins scattered over the Venice trading ports. It was to be expected that with all this stability in his household, Cai was able to govern his lands as well as he could, although never being much more than a cripple for much of his life thereafter. His lands and treaties seemed to prosper, at first. But when both men reached middle age, things changed.
Donal Sutherland’s bad luck started to make him revive the auld enmity. Y’see, things had nae been going well for him.
He lived a dog’s life with Enid. She was a shrew with the manners of a fishwife. Her lands in Wales turned out to be nothing more than midge-infested peat bog. She denied him conjugal rights and spurned his love and adoration, laughing in his face when he tried to enter her bedchamber. And when she fell heavy with child, it was rumored she had turned her fancy to one of the footmen. She died in childbirth, leaving Donal with...a daughter.
With nothing else in his life to keep his sanity, all Donal Sutherland has done since his wife died is obsess about Cai Maclachlan and think of ways he can do him harm.”
“But...but,” Ernest said, “Cai got his comeuppance! He fell – was pushed - down the mountain! How can Laird Sutherland still think it unfair?’
The pastor got up to pour them all another cup of tea, “Cai Maclachlan was able to see reason finally. Donal Sutherland is yet to experience the blessing of forgiveness.”
He handed Emer her teacup, and she thanked him, saying, “Ye seem to ken the story very well, pastor, may I ask how ye have heard all this?”
He sat back down in his comfortable armchair with a great sigh, “Och, lass, Donal Sutherland is me brither. I’m Dougal Sutherland, but the villagers here only ken me as Pastor Dougal.”
Emer and Ernest sat up straight when he said this. Such a fine, upstanding middle-aged man, obviously serious about his commitment to spreading love and understanding, and uplifting the communities in his care, was the brother of a revenge crazed Laird!
Pastor Dougal smiled at their reaction, “Dinnae fash, children. He’s the elder, so he got to inherit the title. I was fightin’ mad in those days and went overseas to offer me services to men prepared to pay for me sword. I saw the error of me ways late in life, turned to the kirk for forgiveness, and now...,” here he gestured around the masons and carpenters working outside the window, “now I use me gold to help others.”
Emer did not know what to say, “Thank ye for telling yer story, sir, I am honored ye trust me with it.”
Dougal chuckled, “By all means, lass, tell anyone who ye think would benefit from knowing it! It makes me smile when I hear about how Cai used to plot how to cause trouble up at the Sutherland lodge because there’s a secret passage hidden in the family chapel that takes ye right into the cellars! I roar with laughter every time I think of the sacred crypt of our illustrious forefathers is nae filled with the bones o’ me ancestors but leads right into the wine cellars instead. And all this time, Cai is probably still scratching his head over how the Sutherland spies used to come and go at leisure, as the passage goes all the way under the outer walls as well.”
He stood up, “I must get back to me study, children, I’m sure ye will understand – sermon writing does nae come easily to me, me bein’ an auld soldier an’ all.”
They thanked him once again, and the housekeeper escorted them out, waving to them as they walked back to the inn.
“Losh! That were an eye-opener if I ever heard one before.” Ernest said when they were out of earshot, “d’ye think any of what he told ye will be able to help yer Laird?”
Emer linked her arm companionably through Ernest’s and replied, “It has given me hope we may yet be able to get to the bottom of this, Ernest. Will ye come with me to the inn and help me with Bessie, please? I think I will stay here overnight and need someone to lead her around to the stables while I carry me bundle up to the bedchamber.”
“Why are ye staying over for the night, Emer? Have nae all yer questions been answered?” Ernest asked, allowing Emer to lead him into the inn’s taproom where they knew the innkeeper would be serving his thirsty patrons ale after they finished their building work.
“Nae, Ernest,” Emer said to the young sexton, as she waited for the innkeeper to come and serve her, “all me questions havenaebeen answered.”
