Epilogue
The journey back to Corryvreckan was slow, his horse’s hooves clattering over tracks frozen hard by the bitter frost. Winter’s deathly grip on the land had not yet relented, but it would soon soften to a late spring, and yield to new life as the sun warmed the land.
The air was much colder now that he was but a mile from the castle, and in range of the sea winds, gusting up the coast. His meeting with Abbot Aifric at Farne Abbey preyed on his mind. Why he had ridden there was a mystery to him? It was as if God had reached out a hand and guided him there.
As his horse plodded on, Lyall sank his neck into the furs around his shoulders. He had knelt at the altar on the freezing flagstones with the Abbot, hoping to find peace by spilling his guts before God, but his heart had not stopped racing. Now it shamed him to recall his words.
‘Perhaps if the bairn was a girl it would be easier.’
‘Easier for you to accept, Lyall?’
‘Aye.’
‘But it is not’
His jaw clenched at the very thought of it.
‘I am lost, Abbot. I do not know what to do. If the child grows to look like him, if I cannot be kind to it, then I will be visiting the most awful cruelty on Giselle. She cannot help but care for it, no matter what Banan did to her, for her heart is full of love, where mine is all darkness and bitterness.’
‘Lyall, you made a promise to her on that cliff, to stop her committing the most grievous of sins, ending her own life.’
‘Words are easy to say, but hard to live up to. I have accepted that I must bring up Banan’s child, and I do so in recompense for the agonising death I gave him. I was of the Devil when I did it. It haunts me, that red death, as his child will haunt me.’
‘All this talk of haunting. You killed a man who wronged you in the worst possible way. Banan struck at your heart, your love for Giselle. Make no mistake, he intended that blow to be mortal. As a man of God, I should tell you to turn the other cheek, but not in this case. It was kill, or be killed. Banan is gone to hell, where he belongs, so it is your conscience pricking at you, not some ghost. You torture yourself into a frenzy because you fear Giselle’s son.’
‘I do not fear a bairn. I fear I cannot accept it.’
‘But that is what you promised. If you do this thing, it cannot be for just a month or a year. That child will grow, and one day stand before you, as a man. If every time you look at him, you see Banan staring back, it will test your love for the bairn and for your wife.’
‘What can I do?’
‘Be a man, Lyall, and live with it. We all have our cross to bear. The bairn is innocent and needs your protection. If you do nothing else in this life that is good and selfless, do this one thing.’
‘You’ll own it is not an easy thing, Abbot.’
‘I do. This might be the bravest thing you will ever do in this life, but do it you must. You know, my parents could have shunned me at birth, because I was broken and bent, like a tree in the wind. I could have been stunted by their shame. Instead, they embraced me, and I grew up in the light of love, and under God’s grace. I was twisted on the outside, but not on the inside. Do this much for Giselle’s bairn, no matter how hard it is. It is the only way you will set down the burden of guilt. This boy will look to you for guidance, you can shape him as he grows, to be a good man, to carry the Buchanan name proudly.’
Lyall was jolted out of his musings by a pheasant breaking cover in a flash of vivid orange feathers, making his horse rear up. He brought it back under control and his mind with it, as Corryvreckan’s stout walls came into view, silhouetted, black and menacing, against the fading afternoon light. They screamed impregnability to strangers passing by. The mournful cawing of seagulls, foraging inland, echoed over the loch as it seeped out to meet the sea.
Lyall hoped Giselle would not be angry for his leaving her. If she were, she would not show it. His wife would be kind and pleasing and do everything she could to make him happy. How he hated that she did that, always trying to make up for her sin in being a victim of that black dog, Banan. Always seeking his forgiveness, when he should be seeking hers.
***
Lyall strode into his hall in a foul mood. As ever, it smelled fresh, and Giselle had laid out a pitcher of rosemary over the hearth, which sent a pleasant fragrance out into the hot air rising from the burning logs. All was neat and in order. She had proved herself to be an excellent keeper of his home. She was tireless in her wifely duties, apart from one.
Perhaps that would change, now that the bairn had come. A man could hope, couldn’t he? God, when he looked at her these days, it stirred up such longing in his soul. She was fairer now than she had ever been, rounded and lushly beautiful, a glow to her skin and hair, and such an expression on her face, when she held her child, it would put angels to shame. He wanted her, and it disgusted him that he did. To Giselle he was a repulsive, selfish thing, driven by his base desires, one who wished to force his body on her. So it made him feel ashamed to be aroused by the sight of her.
Around him, she was affectionate, doing everything she could to please him, except that one thing that would bring them back together – share his bed. But how could she, when she had the bairn to care for, and he could not be near it? Always, she watched him, as if searching for some feeling on his face that he could not give. When the bairn cried, she would whisk it away, out of sight, so that he would not be angered by it. That was the worst of it, the very worst of it. Try as he might, he could no more touch that boy than Giselle could bear for him to touch her.
As if his thoughts had conjured it, he heard a thin wail from the fireplace. The bairn was in its cradle. He had not noticed it was there. The wailing went on and on, clawing at his piece of mind. No one came to tend to it. He shouted for a servant as the bairn screamed louder. Was it hurt in some way?
Lyall walked over on feet of lead and stared down at the pink bundle of outraged flesh. Its mouth was a yawning gape, shrill shrieks echoing around the hall.
Where was Giselle? She should be here to take care of the bairn.
‘Hush,’ he barked at the strange, unreal thing, wriggling in its cradle. There was such confusion in his head that he wanted to scream.
Still, the bairn shrieked.