As they went, the gillean sang the Christmas hail.Ī shout rang from the ceiling as wee Donnie was returned to the cradle, and the tower folk rushed forward to lay small offerings around the Cristean. Wrapping the little Christ in the skin of a male lamb, the lads carried him sunwise three times around the hall. They finished with the first song, and the leader bent to the cradle by the hearth and lifted out Brighde’s wee Donald Duncan, the babe chosen to play the part of the Cristean. Clad in long white shirts of bleached wool, tall white hats on their heads, they began to chant the traditional songs. When they were seated, the gillean Nollaig, the Christmas lads, chosen for their sweet voices, stepped forward. We’ll not be ruining the best season of the year with useless regrets.” Kara whirled him about and gently shoved him toward a bench. “If he hadn’t, the MacGorys would be living at Edin Tower.”įergie grunted. “’Twould have been better if he’d never come.” “Duncan would have come back ere now if he were free.” “Well, I’m glad the MacGorys are not about. “Aye.” She hugged his waist, pleased by the strength of his lean muscles. Interwoven with the ivy were sprigs of holly to keep the fairies away, and sprays of yew decorated the center of every table. Kara grinned, eyes sweeping from the garlands strung along the beams of the ceiling. “The hall looks that grand,” Fergie commented.
It had been a relief, actually, to turn her thoughts away from her private pain and attend to the myriad of tasks. The familiar sights, sounds and smells of the festive season were a balm to her aching heart. Surrounded by her merry kin, Kara felt as close to happy as she got these days. Trailing snow, faces red from the cold, they paraded the log around the great hall to the raucous lilt of the pipes then placed it in the hearth with due ceremony. The first winter storm struck on Christmas Eve day, but it didn’t deter the folk of Edin from bringing in the Yule log. “So, there’s to be a wedding?”ĭuncan drew in a steadying breath, then exhaled. He had the face of a hawk, eyes as cold as a witch’s soul.
Fingering his pointy chin, he regarded Duncan and his daughter as he might two bugs that had invaded his tidy bed. “Hmm.” Cousin Niall leaned back in his chair.
The grim satisfaction he felt when Niall beheld the treasure inside paled beside the grinding ache in his heart.
“Have you gained that which you sought, or do you crawl back here a failure like your-”ĭuncan tossed the sack of rubies onto the table. “Duncan,” Cousin Niall inclined his head of close-cropped gray hair.
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