"I think he is a fool, as our bonnie Fiona so wisely observed," Alexander MacDonald said. " 'Twould be unworthy of a MacDonald to be part of such a plot. I will espouse no such thing, sister, and ye know it well without asking," he finished.

"Yet," his sister said, "MacArthur's close adherent is The MacRurie, who is a part of the MacDonald family, brother. How will ye keep him under control?"

Alexander MacDonald smiled wolfishly. "When the day comes that we must go to Inverness, and the king desires a member of our family to make an example of, do ye nae think MacRurie will do, sister?"

"Ah, Alex, our da would be proud of ye," she said, smiling at him. " 'Tis a plan worthy of Donald of Harlaw."

Fiona listened to them as well as to the continued discussions in her hall. This proposed assassination by Ian MacArthur and Alexander MacRurie was something she would pass on, for although it would undoubtedly come to nothing, the king should be warned. She was worried as to how her information could be transmitted, for she was in no condition to go to Inverness to visit the cloth-and-ribbon merchant and none of the other agents had come to Nairns Craig this spring. She turned to her brother-in-law and asked, "Have ye seen Father Ninian, my lord? I would have him here to baptize the bairn after it is born."

"I have heard he was somewhere north of Nairns Craig, my bonnie," the lord answered her, "but do not fear. He came to Islay earlier this spring, and told me then he planned to be with ye and Nairn come June."

"June comes in tomorrow, my lord," Fiona said.

" 'Tis a fine month for a bairn to be born in," the lord told her with a broad smile.

Fiona laughed. "Any moment would suit me for this bairn to be born. I am as swollen as an overripe grape."

"Is my nephew an active wee fellow?" Elizabeth MacKay asked.


"He is never still," Fiona responded, "yet in the last day or two he has quieted, it seems."

Elizabeth MacKay gave Moire Rose an arch look. "The bairn will be born soon," she said with certainty.


***

Nairn did not come to bed that night, and Fiona slept badly. In the morning, however, she was up, dressed in a loose-fitting dark green gown, and in the hall to supervise the servants seeing to the early meal. Oat porridge, fresh bread, two hams, several bowls of hard-boiled eggs, stone crocks of butter, and a new wheel of hard, sharp cheese were set out, along with pitchers of foaming brown ale. The chieftains, most bleary-eyed, were nonetheless awake, and had attended to their personal needs. They sat down at the trestles, eating hungrily as if they had not eaten in a month, swiftly emptying the pitchers of ale.

Then, one by one, they began to take their leave of Nairns Craig. Fiona stood with her husband at the entry to the hall, bidding each man a polite farewell. She knew each man's name and spoke it as he came abreast of her. The chieftains were pleased by her womanly manners, and many complimented Nairn on his good fortune in his wife. When they had all departed but for The MacDonald and his relations, Fiona returned to the hall again to make certain the trestles were cleared off and set to one side of the room. Then the morning meal for the rest of her guests was brought out.

The Lord of the Isles, who had been in the hall earlier to bid his vassals and allies farewell, was already seated at the high board with his sister and his brother-in-law, The MacKay. "Yer wife is a great asset to us, Nairn," he said. "She spoke well, and with much common sense last night. Many commented upon it. I am verra pleased with ye, my bonnie," he told Fiona, a smile lighting his whole face.

"I don't wish to raise my children amid the din of constant war, my lord," Fiona told him. "No woman does, be she of high or low station. 'Tis ye men who cry war and then send our sons into battle. I but sought to keep the peace for as long a time as possible."

"But if our autonomy is threatened, we must defend ourselves," the Lord of the Isles said sternly.

"All James Stewart asks of ye is loyalty," Fiona said. "He has a mighty task to bring Scotland under control. He wants the towns to become great commercial centers like the English have because that is what makes them 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 we could not get drunk," the Lord of the Isles said to his brother-in-law. "Is it too early for ye?"

" '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.