“Campbells! Dhé! and they will be murdering us all, then!”
“Perhaps not,” said Kelpie hopefully. “If Mac Cailein Mor is after Montrose, perhaps he’ll not be lingering in Lochaber.”
But she slept with one ear well out of the folds of her plaidie, cocked for any sounds of danger. The hut was only a mile or so from Inverlochy Castle, and if Lorne had
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reason to fear Mac Cailein Mor, Kelpie had that much more.
She had planned to be off the first thing in the morning, out of danger. But somehow she found herself waiting, even after she had eaten the hot oatmeal Lorne cooked, and tucked some food into her pouch2. There was Lorne here, and the wee ones, and none of Kelpie’s concern at all. But Lorne was frightened and uncertain what to do, and they so helpless and looking up to Kelpie—and after all, perhaps it would be wise just to take a wee peek3 at what Argyll was doing, and see the size of his army.
“You might just be getting food and blankets together in case you need to hide,” she suggested. “And I’ll go have a look around.”
“Och,’tis both good and brave you are!” said Lorne gratefully. Kelpie left the house hurriedly, feeling oddly embarrassed.
She moved cautiously around the flank of the ben, skulking4 behind masses of juniper and pine clumps5, until she could see the castle. Mise-an-dhui! It was an army indeed and indeed! Highland6 Campbells and Lowlanders too, and well more than twice what Montrose could have, even with his new recruits. But Argyll seemed to be making no move to follow him up the Great Glen, even with this advantage.
Kelpie’s heart sank as she watched groups of men forming before the castle. It was what she had expected in the
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heart of her. Mac Cailein Mor had no heart for battle but would be about his usual practice of wiping out women and children. Even now one of the groups of soldiers was setting off toward the little cluster of homes on the edge of Loch Linnhe, and another was turning west along Loch Eil.
She watched no longer but headed back around the northern side of Ben Nevis. In a way this might be fortunate for her, giving her time to be up the Great Glen ahead of them. But suppose they penetrated7 as far as Glenfern? Perhaps she ought to be heading eastward8, and out of the way altogether. In any case she would be passing Lorne’s home on the way, and it costing only a few minutes to warn the lass. Nor was this just profitless foolishness, she told herself, for who knew when she might be needing a friend under obligation to herself?
An hour later she was laboring9 up the side of the mountain with a bundle of food in one arm and the next-smallest bairn in the other; Lorne, with the baby, and the older children panting behind. “Mind ye stay clear of soft snow,” she warned over her shoulder. “It could be putting them on your trail.”
Another hour saw them settled in a well-hidden shepherd’s shelter, cold and uncomfortable and not daring to have a fire, but at least safer than at their home.
“Will you not be staying too?” begged Lorne, her dark eyes anxious for the safety of this generous new friend.
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But Kelpie shook her head. She wanted to be farther than this from Argyll. And besides, a new thought was beginning to hound the fringes of her mind. Montrose, all unknowing, was now between two armies, for was not Seaforth at Inverness with five thousand men? And if he should be caught in a trap and wiped out, it would put Argyll altogether in control of the Highlands as well as Lowlands—and what would happen to Kelpie then? For her own safety, it seemed, she must try to warn Montrose.
It was a sore uncomfortable thought, filled with hardship and danger. She tried to put it out of her mind as she picked her way down the gaunt wintry slope, but it wouldn’t leave. And with it were thoughts of Morag Mhor and Rab and Archie and Montrose himself lying slain10 in the snow, and all the comradeship and merry teasing silenced forever. A pity that would be. With a sigh she headed up the glen, a sharp eye out for any movement that might spell danger.
Och, then, but it was cold! Her feet were icy in their hide shoes, even with the woolen11 hose, and it was threatening to snow again. However could she catch up with the army at all? Perhaps it had already met Seaforth. But she kept on going.
She saw nothing but hares and deer and a lone1 eagle, until she reached the River Spean. Then a short, wiry figure came from the brush just ahead, and Kelpie sank swiftly to the ground for a tense moment before she saw
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he was not a Campbell. He was alone and in a faded Cameron kilt. Kelpie followed him to a dilapidated hut on the bank of the river and watched him enter. A drift of smoke began to rise. Might not he help himself and his clan12 by taking the message for her? And then she would be free to seek safety. She walked up to the door boldly.
“Come away in,” came the expected lilt of Gaelic when she knocked, and the man’s face turned to her in surprise as she entered. “Dhia dhuit,” he greeted her politely. “And what is a wee lass doing alone in the cold? Will you no have a sup of hot food?”
“I will, then,” agreed Kelpie promptly13. “And give an important word to you, and also a task if you will do it.”
The man listened while she talked and ate, his face growing graver and grimmer. “Aye so,” he agreed. “’Tis the hand of destiny that I live alone here and knew nothing of the clan rising, or I would be with them, and a bad time of it you would be having alone and in this weather. Eat your fill, then, whilst I fill my pouch, and I’ll be away before you’re done. You can be biding14 here whilst I am gone.”
“That I will not!” retorted Kelpie firmly. “For every house in Lochaber is a danger. I’ll be away east out of trouble.”
He frowned and shook his head. “There is no shelter to the east of here, lass, and it too cold to be sleeping out. And I have just come from hunting a wolf that has been
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skulking upriver. You would be safer here, I am thinking, for my house is alone and well hidden. But if you’re feared to rest here, there is a bittie cave nearby, and you are welcome to my blankets and food. Follow the Spean along up for a mile or so, and where the Cour is entering it turn south for a bit and mark sharp the west bank. The cave is in a high bluff15 and well hid with juniper. But I’m thinking you’ll be safe enough the night here, whatever, and it nearly dark already. There’ll be no Campbells along this day, and ’tis no good for you to be freezing.”
“Aye, then,” agreed Kelpie, seeing the sense to this, and the man was off. Odd, she didn’t know the name of him, nor he hers, and yet he was away on a dangerous errand on her word. A purpose in common—or common danger—she decided16, was like a spell, binding17 even strangers one to another.
The morning was heavy with clouds, the new snow a dead white beneath the gray of the sky. Kelpie put out the fire for fear of any betraying smoke and set out to locate the cave, wishing she dared stay in the warmth of the shieling. But as she trudged18 along the Cour River, watching the west bank, she stopped. Clear in the snow were footprints coming down the Cour—and stopping just ahead in a tumbled heap of snow. Kelpie stared, eyes narrowed. Footsteps didn’t just stop, unless someone had wings.
No, there were no wings. There the prints went, back
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the way they came. In a moment Kelpie had read the story. A man it was, by the size of the prints, and coming north along the Cour in a great hurry, so that he did not notice the treacherous19 slab20 of granite21 by the river, with ice under the snow. And there he had slipped and fallen; the mark was plain. Then, it would seem, he had made back the way he had come, limping sorely.
Kelpie straightened and looked up the glen cautiously. Where was he, then? And who was he? Warily22 she began to follow the retreating footprints.
They angled up the hill to the right presently, through a thick patch of pine and juniper. Kelpie hesitated, peering through it, her right hand reaching for the sgian dhu in the front of her dress, feet ready to run. Nothing stirred. And then a tiny trickle23 of smoke floated up just a few feet away from behind the brush. Dhé! It must be that he had found the cave and taken shelter there. Probably he was not a Campbell, then, but more likely hiding from them—though he would not stay hidden long, with the smoke giving him away. Kelpie grinned sourly and shrugged24. This was no place for her, then. She turned and prepared to slip quietly away, back to the shieling.
“And have I taken the home of the water witch?”
It was a low voice with a mocking note that Kelpie could never mistake. She whirled. Alex! She could see him now through the brush, nearly invisible against the low winter sun. He sat at the mouth of a small, shallow cave,
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regarding her quizzically—but with a drawn25 look about the mouth of him. One foot, badly swollen26, was propped27 up before him.
Och, then, wasn’t it her curse on him that had come at last to bear fruit? Moving thru the juniper, but keeping a safe distance away, Kelpie told him so with considerable relish28.
Alex grinned wryly29. “It may be so,” he conceded. “Sure it is you’ve cursed me enough. But have I not told you that such things are likely to fly back in the face of the one who curses? And if this is your curse at work, then ’tis not just me you’ve harmed, but Montrose and his army, and yourself as well. For Argyll is about, and I was on my way up the Great Glen to warn Montrose when I fell; and what will you do if Argyll wins and puts his witch-hunters over the whole of the Highlands?”
His tone was still mocking, but Kelpie could hear bitterness and despair in his voice. It made her feel most peculiar30, for Alex was usually so infuriatingly self-assured—and much easier to hate that way. His distress31 was not quite as satisfying as it should have been. For a moment she toyed with the idea of leaving him to his worry, but she could not resist bragging32. She gave him a pointed33 grin.
“You will always be thinking yourself the only clever body in the world,” she observed smugly. “I myself have already sent a messenger to Montrose.”
Alex stared, frankly34 unbelieving. “You?”
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“And why not, whatever? Wasn’t I crossing Campbell land myself with the army, and you away safe out of it? Haven’t I the wits to see I’m not wanting Mac Cailein Mor king in the Highlands? It is I should be doubting you, for if Ian and his father are with Montrose now, I’m thinking you’d not be going near whatever.”
Alex narrowed his hazel eyes at her, and Kelpie prudently35 moved a step farther away. “And why not?” he inquired lazily.
Kelpie laughed nastily. “I’ve eyes in my head!” she retorted. “Did you think I was not seeing? Aye, and I saw it before, as well, with the Second Sight, last spring.”
Alex’s eyes widened for an instant, then narrowed. He seemed about to say something, but changed his mind. Instead, the planes in his face became more angular than ever, and he gave Kelpie a long, hard, brooding stare that made her thankful for the hurt foot which kept him from moving. For surely he was thinking that he would like to silence her. He shrugged finally. “I wonder,” he said, “whether ’tis the truth you’re telling me about that messenger. If so, I could find it in my heart....”
He didn’t finish the thought, nor did Kelpie answer. Instead, she stared back at him, at the freckles36 and straight lines of his face, at the way the cheekbones stood out above the narrow strength of jaw37, and at the tangled38 red hair which had not been trimmed or combed recently. He was thinner than he had been and pale under his
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freckles, and she could see a tiny pulse in his temple that was his life itself—so easy to stop, so small a thread of life. And was there not something she should be doing the now, to avenge39 Ian? But she could not think what. Alex was not asleep, nor by any means helpless, even with a sore foot; and she had no intention at all of risking her own life for Ian or anyone else. She pulled her thick brows together and regarded him darkly.
Alex laughed suddenly. “You cannot be planning to rob me, so it must be some other devilment you have in mind. Are you not satisfied yet, water witch? Is it another wee spell, or have you learned the Evil Eye by now?”
“Sssss!” said Kelpie earnestly.
“Well, and why will you not be going to Mac Cailein Mor to say that I am here?” he asked. “He would make short enough shrift of me, and would you not be liking40 that?”
“Aye so,” agreed Kelpie with enthusiasm. “But,” she pointed out regretfully, “he would be making even shorter shrift of me, and I’d not be liking that so well.” And then she bit her tongue in annoyance41 as Alex laughed again. It was a spell he had put on her, to be always telling him the truth she had never intended to say!
She scowled42 and lifted her lip in the old wolfish snarl43, and then found herself grinning ruefully, though she had never intended that, either. It was not funny; it was not! She stamped her foot.
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“Ou, aye!” said Alex. “Your sense of humor has slipped out again, and why will you be squashing it under? Laugh at yourself, Kelpie. ’Tis the cure for all ills, and it is in my mind that perhaps most evil is caused by folk who take themselves too seriously.”
“You’re daft,” said Kelpie and turned away uncertainly. She should be off about her business and leave Alex to his fate. But it seemed that the thing inside that had been pushing her for days against her will was pushing still. It was as if she were living a pattern, and it was yet unfinished, and the thing would not permit her to go off and leave it until it was complete. She paused, her back turned to Alex, who sat still and silent in the mouth of his refuge.
“What will you be doing now?” she asked against her will.
“Bide here,” he returned philosophically44, “since I can do nothing else, and see what will happen.”
“They will be seeing your smoke,” she pointed out, still reluctantly.
“I will let my fire die during the day, and try to keep warm by moving about,” he returned, and the quizzical note was back in his voice. “And why do you warn me of that, water witch? Wouldn’t it please you just to see me captured?”
“It would that!” Kelpie’s eyes flashed. “I will be laughing that day, and not at myself either!” And this time she did leave, heading angrily back toward the Spean River.
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收听单词发音
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1
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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3
peek
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| vi.偷看，窥视；n.偷偷的一看，一瞥 | |
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4
skulking
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| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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5
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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6
highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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7
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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8
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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9
laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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10
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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11
woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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13
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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14
biding
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| v.等待，停留( bide的现在分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待；面临 | |
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15
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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16
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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19
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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23
trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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24
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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25
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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26
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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27
propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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29
wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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31
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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32
bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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33
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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35
prudently
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| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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36
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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37
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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38
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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39
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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40
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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41
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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42
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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44
philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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