prosperous, but how can the towns grow when the clans are always burning them in retaliation for one thing or another? If he knows ye will keep the peace here in the north and west, then ye will undoubtedly be left in peace. Why does a man like Alexander MacDonald, Lord of the Isles, a man known for his honor, find it so difficult to swear fealty? If ye were but one man, it would not be so hard, but ye are the key to peace in these highlands. Without yer support most of the others will not swear, and they remain a thorn in the king's side. Eventually he must pluck that thorn or be called craven and weak-willed, as his father was. He will not allow his own honor to be compromised thusly, my lord.'
'Let us see if the king calls us all to Inverness,' the Lord of the Isles said. 'I don't have to make a decision before then, do I?'
Fiona shook her head in despair. How could she tell this great and powerful chieftain that he was making a terrible mistake? By not swearing to James Stewart now, he was but antagonizing the king. James Stewart had a long memory and a single goal: to unite Scotland. He would do whatever he had to to attain that goal, as Fiona well knew. Suddenly a sharp pain caused her to stagger, and a pool of water puddled around her feet. Shocked, she looked down at it.
Her attention engaged, Elizabeth MacKay's eyes went to where Fiona's were. She saw the water and, standing up, announced, 'I knew it! The bairn is to be born this day. Did I not say it last night? Did I not say the bairn would come soon? Well, don't stand there, ye great fools! Fiona must be taken to her chamber, and the birthing table brought. Hurry now!'
Chapter 12
Colin MacDonald almost knocked his brother over as he rushed to reach his wife. 'Do ye have pain, sweeting?' he asked her, picking her up and walking quickly across the hall to the staircase leading to their chambers. 'Ah, Fiona mine, I canna bear to see ye hurting.'
'Then ye should not have gotten a bairn upon me, Nairn,' she said with a small attempt at humor. She winced. 'Ohhhhh!'
The castle servants had been galvanized into action. A serving wench had dashed ahead of Nairn to alert Nelly. Another ran off to find the birthing table.
Elizabeth McKay turned before going up the stairs, saying to her husband and brother, 'Keep Colin's spirits up as best ye can when he returns to the hall. And that does not mean getting him drunk, my laddies. Ye’ll both answer to me if ye do!' Then she was gone.
'She did not say
' 'Tis never too early, Alex,' came the reply, 'but I suspect she'd be verra angry with us. She has a fierce temper, yer sister, my wife. I retain a potter in the keep to replace all the crockery she throws at me and anyone else who runs afoul of her ire.'
Alexander MacDonald laughed aloud at this revelation.
In her chamber Fiona struggled to bring forth the life she had been nurturing within her womb. At first she would not cry out when the pains wracked her greatly, but Elizabeth encouraged her, saying, 'A woman is expected to shout aloud when her babe is being born, Fiona. Don't hold back!'
'My mother never shouted,' Fiona said through gritted teeth. 'I was the eldest, and I never heard her shout when my five sisters were born alive and ray wee brothers were born dead. My father did all the shouting, screaming at her to give him his son each time, cursing her when the lassies came into the world alive and the laddies were birthed dead and cold as stone.'
'Yer not yer mother. My brother cares not a whit if it is a son or a daughter, do ye, Nairn? We want a healthy baby, lass. That is all. Now, cry out with yer pain, and help the bairn to come.'
She was rewarded when Fiona shrieked and cried out, 'I am being torn apart, lady!'
'Nay, nay, lassie, 'tis an easy birth yer having. Another wee push, and I will see the bairn's head,' Elizabeth MacKay promised. 'When the next pain comes, bear down with all yer might.'
'It's coming!' Fiona shouted, letting out a shrill cry.
'Oh, verra good, dearie, verra good,' Elizabeth MacKay praised her sister-in-law.
Colin MacDonald was visibly white as he let Fiona clutch his hand until he thought she would render it bloodless. Seeing his condition, Fiona said, 'Get out, Nairn! I don't want ye swooning on the floor. There is no time to attend to ye if this child is to be born. Oh! Oh! Oh!' she gasped.
'I'll not leave ye, sweeting, nor will I swoon like a maiden,' he promised her, although he wasn't certain he could keep the latter promise. Seeing her in such obvious pain, realizing he was the cause of it, was almost more than he could bear. He swallowed hard.
'I have no more time for ye, Colly,' Fiona told him. 'Blessed Mother! Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Lady, what is happening?'
'One, perhaps two more pushes, Fiona, and yer bairn is born,' Elizabeth MacKay said. 'The head and shoulders are already out.' She opened the baby's mouth and yanked out a clot of mucus. The child coughed slightly and began to cry.
'Is it a lad?' Fiona asked her.
'That's the part usually born last,' Elizabeth MacKay laughed. 'Ye’ll have to give me another push if we're to know. It's got black hair like yers, though.'
Another fierce pain wracked Fiona, and she pushed with what she thought was her absolute last bit of strength. Suddenly she no longer felt as if she were being torn asunder. Indeed, she could actually feel something sliding out of her body. Then the child was howling in earnest.
' 'Tis a wee laddie, though not so wee,' Elizabeth MacKay said with a wide smile. 'Well, Nairn, ye have a son.' She held the bloody infant up for her brother to see. 'Take yer knife, Colin, and cut the cord as I tell ye,' Elizabeth MacKay said, laying the squalling child upon its mother's belly as she directed her brother, then knotted the remaining cord expertly. She handed the baby to Nelly. 'Clean him up lassie, and wrap him well so he may go into the hall with his da to meet his overlord and his uncles.'
Tears of joy pouring down her face, Nelly cleansed the birthing blood from the baby boy. How very much like Angus Gordon he looked, but Colin MacDonald would not realize it, for he had not known the laird particularly well. He would assume the dark hair was an inheritance from Fiona, and no one ever could really decide who babies looked like Nelly swaddled the baby in fresh soft cloth. Then, without waiting for further instructions, she placed him in Fiona's arms.
Looking into the face so like Angus Gordon's, Fiona felt her heart break again. His father's son, but he was unlikely ever to know his real father. Kissing the damp, downy dark head, she handed the baby to Colin. 'Here is yer son, my lord,' she said quietly. 'I hope he pleases ye.'
Colin MacDonald accepted the tiny bundle she offered him. He was delighted, and amazed at how sturdy his laddie was. Blue eyes looked up at him. He felt as if he were being scrutinized carefully, and hoped he would not be found wanting. 'Welcome to Nairns Craig, Alastair James MacDonald,' he said. Looking down at Fiona, he smiled 'Thank ye, Fiona mine. Yer a fine breeder.' Turning, he left his wife's chamber with the baby.
Alexander MacDonald watched his brother cross the hall cradling the swaddled bundle. From the grin on Colin's face he knew without asking that the child was a lad. 'Congratulations, brother!' he exclaimed, and peering down at the infant he said, 'The babe looks strong. He'll survive.'
'Let me see him! Let me see my grandson!' Moire Rose pushed past the Lord of the Isles and The MacKay. 'Give him to me, Colin.' When her son had placed the baby in her outstretched arms, an almost beatific smile lit Moire Rose's face. 'Ah, he's a braw laddie,' she crooned down at the child. 'A verra braw laddie, he is!'
'They say ye would not look upon me when I was born,' Colin said, struggling to keep the bitterness from his voice.
His mother gazed directly at him. 'I looked at ye,' she told him. 'When they were not there watching me, I looked at ye. I saw yer father in yer face, Colin MacDonald. For all my red hair and blue eyes ye were a MacDonald. I hated him then, for he had deserted me. But I loved him, too. Ye were a reminder of what I had lost. I believe this
