The Evil Brother

The Evil Brother

Suzanne Marsh

Catriona MacFarin waved sweetly as Angus MacLeod reined in his favorite horse:

“Good day ta ya lassie, I have just stopped here to water my horse if that is permitted.”

Catriona smiled up into the largest blue eyes she had ever seen. He watered his horse, then galloped off. Catriona turned on her heel when another horseman rode up: “Good day to ya lassie, my horseman

requires water.” Catriona smiled, then placed her hand above her eyes to shade them and stare at this second stranger. The two men looked alike: red hair, blue eyes, and a muscular build.

Hugh the Red heard the horse hooves beating the ground: ‘it must be Angus, och that laddie!’ he thought. Hugh the Red, Laird of Dunvegan and head of the Clan MacLeod, smiled, hoping Angus would simmer down. Fergus was a good, quiet young man; Angus was his total opposite. Hugh thought Fergus was a better choice; Angus was much too wild to be a good laird. Angus halted his horse and dismounted: “Father, Fergus is coming now, the MacDuff’s are planning a raid on Dunvegan; we should prepare to meet them in battle.” Hugh the Red, a very patient man, turned to face Angus:

“There will be no battle with the MacDuff Clan; I promised yur mam I would not raise a hand to her

clan. Her clan was the MacDuff’s. Angus, although disappointed, knew his Da was right. Angus wanted to impress his Da; he was determined to be the next Laird of Dunvegan.

Fergus arrived moments later: “Da, I met the lass I am going to marry today, aye, she is a

beauty.” Hugh smiled at his son: “What clan does she belong to?” Fergus swallowed:

“I don’t know, I don’t even know her name, Da.” Hugh laughed heartily. Fergus knew it

was time for him to play the pipes on the rampart. Darkness began to fall as he played All the Blue Bonnets are Over the Border, Atholl Highlanders, and Auld Lang Syne. Fergus walked the rampart playing the pipes, as Hugh and Angus listened. Hugh turned to Angus: “Fergus, is a grand piper aye?”Before Angus could comment, Hugh the Red continued: “He is going to be a good wee laird.”

Angus felt now, more than ever, that he should be the next laird. He began to plot: ‘I think I will visit my friend Black Jack, he has a ship. I can put a sleeping potion into a glass of wine, and Fergus drinks it. Black Jack can impress him into the Navy. Da would be very upset that Fergus just ran out on him.

Dew was on the heather, the sun just beginning to rise, and Hugh the Red awoke. There was a loud thud; Fergus and Angus came running: “Da, let us get you back to bed.” Hugh grabbed his chest, took a shuddering breath, and died. Fergus went to Hugh’s desk, opened the third drawer, and then felt for the false bottom. His fingers touched the small button, and the false bottom opened. There he found his Da’s will, explaining his decision to make Fergus the new laird. Fergus read and reread the will; his Da requested Angus to help his brother. Hugh wanted to be buried next to his wife, Fiona, whom he loved very deeply. Fiona MacDuff MacLeod, whom he married, was ecstatic when she had the twin boys.

As evening came, Hugh was lowered into the cold, frozen ground. Fergus stood off to the side of his Da’s coffin playing Floores o the Forest, a mournful tune on the bagpipes. Angus stood defiantly as he plotted Fergus’ demise. Angus knew why Fergus became the Laird; Hugh loved him more. With that thought in his mind, Angus strode to his horse, mounted, and galloped off toward Castle MacDonald. The Clan MacLeod and Clan MacDonald fought several battles against each other. Angus planned to start another battle, the first battle Fergus, as Laird, took part in. Angus decided that a battle was a good plan to murder Fergus. Jamie MacDonald heard the hoof beats; his eyes grew larger when he realized it was Angus MacLeod. Jamie ran down the rampart, yelling for his Da:

“Da, da, come quick! Angus MacLeod is riding toward the castle.”

“Laddie, calm yerself, just because Angus is here doesna mean anything. Angus has always

meant trouble fer us. Go ahead, I will be right there with ye on the rampart.”

Jamie knew his Da was right; Angus was trouble. He recalled the time when Fergus was ambushed by Angus; they were fifteen then. He saved Fergus’s life that day. Laird MacDonald climbed up the rampart stairs slowly. Angus yelled: “MacDonald, I wish ta be talkin to ye.” T

“Come in, MacLeod, dismount and leave your dirk in its

sheath.”

Angus felt that the Laird seeing him was a good omen. He did as he was instructed, following the old Laird into the castle. Jamie, the ever inquisitive man that he was, listened at the door, ready to protect the castle from MacLeod’s presence. The elderly Laird offered Angus wine, which he gratefully accepted.

“Now, laddie, what brings ye to MacDonald castle?”

“My Da passed away early this morning. Fergus is the new Laird. I should be Laird,

I am a better fighter. I am willing to pay in gold coins if you will go into battle.”

“Laddie, I would no be wishin harm to Fergus, my answer to ye is no.”

Angus, his face as red as his hair, stormed out of the great hall, pulled open a door to find himself face to face with Jamie MacDonald:

“I heard what ye asked my Da Angus, that was no good idea, but perhaps you and I can

Come to an understanding, aye?”

“Aye, this is what I want ye ta do: get a few lads together, and ambush Fergus. I

want him dead.”

Jamie realized this was no empty threat; Angus meant to kill Fergus and become Laird. Jamie put his hand out for the bag of gold, thinking he was being a Judas. Fergus, a gentleman by nature, did not deserve to be murdered. Jamie, once accepted the bag of gold coins, was committed. No one would know who actually killed Fergus. Angus rode off happily; he would become the Laird after all.

Jamie, with the help of several clansmen, plotted the ambush. Fergus rode a huge black stallion, easily identifiable. He rode the moors, then went to check on his crofters, then rode up into the mountains to visit the people on his property. Jamie had ridden with Fergus and Angus several times to collect money owed them. There was a mountain pass that would work nicely for the purpose of killing Fergus.

Angus arrived home to find that Fergus was gone. This puzzled Angus, since Fergus never went anywhere by himself. Angus thought about how different everything would be once he became Laird. He would collect all monies owed; he had no sympathy for the fools, especially those on the moor.

Jamie and his cohorts watched as Fergus rode down the mountainside. Jamie couldn’t do it; he was not a killer. He came out of the bushes, waved Fergus to halt:

“Fergus, I was supposed to kill ye, Angus paid me to do it. I am no killer laddie.”

Fergus gazed at Jamie:

“Angus wants me dead? Why?”

Jamie began slowly:

“Angus came to see Da today, he wanted Da to go to battle, make sure ye were dead.

Da told him no, he would not feud with the MacLeods, especially not after hearing

Hugh the Red was dead.”

Fergus felt as miserable as Jamie looked:

“I must call Angus out. I am the Laird. Jamie, I thank ye fer tellin.”

Fergus turned his horse toward Dunvegan Castle. He arrived later than expected, and he climbed the stone stairs into the main hall. Angus heard Fergus’s footsteps before he saw him:

“Fergus, where have ye been?”

Fergus glared at Angus:

“Collecting payment on rented land. I hear ye paid a visit to the MacDonald. Da made his

choice, Angus. There was so much at stake, Da wanted to make sure that Dunvegan was safe.

I could banish you, I have that right as Laird, or I could have ye hanged, but I won’t do

either, at least not yet.”

Angus drew his claymore, motioning Fergus to do the same: “We will see who is the better man

Fergus, I have waited a long time for this.” Angus drew first blood, a slight cut on Fergus’s cheek. Fergus grabbed the claymore, stood to his full height. Swords clanked steel against steel. Fergus saw that Angus was tiring: “Care to quit now, or you can die by my hand.” Angus was no quitter. Fergus lunged forward with the claymore in his hands: “Ye are willing to die if ye can’t be Laird Angus?” Angus was prepared to die; however, Fergus just could not kill his brother: “Angus, you are banished from

Dunvegan for now until the day you die...now get out.