High on a Mountain (28 page)

By the time he met Captain Hawsey, Latharn
was agitated beyond measure, but he tried to remain polite as he
requested the information.

“Of course, I remember where they were taken.
How could I forget!” Captain Hawsey said. “That was the worst
voyage I ever made, the stench, the—”

“Where did you take them?”

“I sold them, the ones who were left, to some
plantation owners in George Town, South Carolina, in the
colonies.”

“The ones who were left?”

“Unfortunately, sickness took most of them. I
made almost no profit that voyage. Last time I’ll ever agree to
transport human cargo.”

“Some died?”

“Yes. A great many died. No great loss, of
course, losing men like—”

“Do you know their names? Do you know the
names of the ones who lived?”

“I didn’t keep track of those who died,
but…yes, I think I do have the names of those who lived. They’re in
my log for that voyage. The first mate wrote them down, made a list
of them when he made out the bills of sale.”

“I need you to check it to see if the name
‘Ailean MacLachlainn’ is on the list.”

“I’m very busy. But if you would care to
reimburse me for my first mate’s time, I could have him look at the
list.”

“Aye, I will,” said Latharn, and he reached
unconsciously for his
sporan
before he remembered that he
was wearing Lowlander
triubhas
. Since the uprising, the king
had prohibited the wearing of all Highland dress, and he could no
longer wear a
féileadh-mòr
. He reached into his coat pocket
and extracted a coin from the small pouch he kept there.

“Mr. Jones!” shouted Captain Hawsey.

When the first mate appeared, the captain
instructed him to search through the prior voyage log book for a
list of the prisoner bills of sale. He was to search for the name
Ailean MacLachlainn.

“You can wait here or you can return later
this evening. He will certainly have found it by then,” Captain
Hawsey said to Latharn. “If it’s there.”

Latharn’s return to the ship that evening was
fruitful. He left the wharf with the name of the plantation owner
who had purchased Ailean MacLachlainn burned into his memory:
Hadley Hollingsworth.

THIRTY-FOUR

The Oaks Plantation, South Carolina, April,
1749

“McLachlan? I don’t know. I really haven’t
had any contact with that group of men since I bought them. The
overseers and managers deal with the field hands.”

“Captain Hawsey told me you’re the man who
bought him, so he must be here,” Latharn said.

“That may not be correct. You see, one of
them died and one ran away. He may have been one of those.”

“This man is very tall. And he has reddish
brown hair. Surely you remember.”

“Mr.…Campbell, did you say? Yes? Well, Mr.
Campbell, I have almost two hundred workers and their families
living on this plantation. Unless someone is in a management
position or works here in the house, I don’t get to know them
personally. And I hardly think any of those men would have the
intelligence to be a manager.” Hadley Hollingsworth shook his head
and laughed. “And I certainly would not allow a barbarian like one
of those Highlanders into my home.”

“But—” Latharn began, trying to hold his
temper in check. To have come this far, and then be thwarted. It
was not to be borne.

“Let me send for James. He’ll know. He
manages those men. Please, won’t you have a seat and join me for
some refreshments while we wait?”

Latharn had no choice. He assented and sat on
the proffered chair, and Hollingsworth left the room to arrange for
James to be summoned and to order refreshments for his uninvited
guest. When he returned, he engaged Latharn in polite conversation
as they awaited James’ arrival. Finally, Latharn could bear it no
longer.

“As I said earlier, I know Ailean
MacLachlainn is here on your plantation,” Latharn said. “I’d like
to buy him from you.”

His host frowned slightly. “Buy him? Why
would you want to buy someone like him? Granted, those men are
strong, stronger than you’d expect, from their appearance. But I
don’t trust them. I still keep an armed man on guard duty when they
are not locked in the barracks.”

“Ah, well, I—” Latharn began.

“By the way, where is your plantation
located? I don’t believe I heard you say.”

They were interrupted by James’ arrival, much
to Latharn’s relief.

“James, this is Mr. Campbell. He wants to
know if we have a…” He turned to Latharn. “What did you say his
name was?”

“Ailean MacLachlainn.”

“Yes. He wants to know if we have an Alan
McLachlan in the group of Highland men we bought.”

“I believe that’s the name of one of them,
sir.”

“Mr. Campbell wants to buy him.”

“I expect he do. Alan be the hardest worker
in that bunch. He strong and—”

“I’ll pay whatever you ask for him. I’ll pay
you twice what you paid for him,” Latharn interrupted.

Hollingsworth chuckled. “Indeed, you’ll pay
more than twice, if I decide to sell him. They were half-starved
when they came here, and I had to bear the cost of feeding them for
quite a while before they became able to work efficiently.”

“Whatever it costs, I’ll pay it.”

____________

Hollingsworth looked at his guest with
misgiving. No one bought slaves without knowing their condition.
Campbell’s insistence on buying a slave he hadn’t seen and whose
condition he didn’t know roused Hollingsworth’s suspicions.

“We may not even have the man you want. There
were other planters who bought men off that ship.”

“I’m sure you have MacLachlainn.”

Hadley turned to James. “Take Mr. Campbell to
see the Highland men.”

He watched from the parlor window as Latharn
followed James across the lawn toward the fields. He didn’t want
the man coming back into his house again. Underneath the charm and
politeness, Hadley sensed something strange about him, something
ominous. He didn’t want any dealings with this man, business or
otherwise. He decided he would not sell a slave to Latharn Campbell
under any circumstances.

Hadley shuddered.

____________

Ruairidh rested his hoe on the ground, leaned
on it for a moment, and straightened to relieve his stiff back. He
surveyed the field to see how far they had progressed and caught
sight of Latharn Cambeul following James into the field. He stared
for a moment.

“I don’t believe it. Ailean, it’s Latharn
Cambeul. Look!”

Ailean raised his head and looked in the
direction Ruairidh pointed. It was indeed Latharn.

Latharn spotted Ailean and cut straight
across the plowed rows toward him, followed by James. He stopped
several feet away.

“So, you
are
here. Just as I thought,”
Latharn said in Gaelic.

Ailean made no reply, but his breaths became
rapid and shallow. His fists clenched and unclenched, and his jaw
tightened.

“Hold your temper,” Ruairidh warned Ailean.
“Remember, the guard has a gun.”

“I don’t care,” Ailean said to Ruairidh. He
raised a hand and pointed at Latharn. “You are a murderer. You
killed my Mùirne. You deserve to die.”

He took a step toward Latharn, and Ruairidh
moved to block him. He wrapped his arms around Ailean, tried to
push him backward. “Stop! Think about what you’re doing.”

“But, I’ve got to—”

“You’ve got to stay alive. Getting shot by
the guard won’t accomplish anything.”

“Alan,” James said. “What you doing? What’s
all this about?”

Ailean stopped struggling as Ruairidh’s and
James’ words penetrated his seething anger. The guard yelled, and
Ruairidh dropped his arms to his side. “You see, he’s watching
us.”

He took a step back from Ailean and picked up
a hoe. The guard shouted again.

“It’s all right.” James called out to the
guard. “Nothing to worry about.” He turned to Ailean. “Get your hoe
and get back to work. Don’t give him a reason to shoot at you.”

Ailean stood and glared at Latharn, his chest
heaving with conflicting emotions. He wanted to wring the life from
Latharn’s body with his bare hands, as the lead ball from Latharn’s
pistol had drained the life from Mùirne’s body.

But a voice of reason within penetrated his
anger and controlled his urge to kill. It told him the guard’s
musket ball would snuff out his own life before he could end
Latharn’s. He leaned over and retrieved his hoe.

“Still arrogant, I see,” Latharn hissed as he
backed away. “But you won’t be arrogant much longer. You won’t be
any
thing much longer. You’ll soon be leaving this
earth.”

Ruairidh stopped hoeing and turned to
Latharn.”What makes you say that?”

“He needs to die. When he’s dead, I can begin
to live again,” Latharn said. He turned and left the field.

James gave Ailean a puzzled look. “Wish I
could understand that jabber you talk so I’d know what just
happened.” He shook his head and followed Latharn.

Ailean watched them walk away. He swallowed,
tried to push the memories Latharn had revived back into the deep
recesses of his heart where he’d buried them.

____________

Hadley met Latharn and James on the porch
when they returned from the fields. He didn’t want Latharn to enter
the house.

“That’s the man. How much?” Latharn
asked.

“I’ll have to go over the accounts,” Hadley
said. “And I still haven’t decided if I’ll sell him. Once I’ve
thought it over, I’ll send word to let you know. Where can I reach
you?”

“No. Now. I want him now,” Latharn
snapped.

He realized he’d made a mistake when he saw
the look Hadley gave him. He took a breath to calm himself. He
called upon his charm to ingratiate himself with the planter
again.

“I’m sorry. Please excuse my impertinence. I
just have…I have some heavy concerns on my mind. No excuse for
rudeness, I realize. Please forgive me.”

____________

“What make you so valuable?” James asked
Ailean when he and the two women entered the barracks to bring the
men their evening meal.

“Valuable? I have no value,” Ailean said.

“Yeah, you do. That man trying to buy you
from master today. Say he don’t care what you cost, he pay it. Why
you reckon he want you so bad?”

Ailean didn’t answer.

“Must be some reason.”

Ailean stared into James’ eyes for a long
moment and turned to Ruairidh. He told Ruairidh in Gaelic, “Please
explain it to him. I don’t know the words to tell of it. And I
can’t talk about it.”

Ruairidh looked at Ailean, sighed, and said
to James, “The man wants to kill Ailean.”

“Why he want to kill him? Alan a good
man.”

After giving Ailean a sideways glance,
Ruairidh took a deep breath and began. “Ailean married Mùirne
MacGriogair, the woman Latharn loved.”

At the mention of her name, Mùirne came to
Ailean from his memories, and he closed his eyes. She smiled shyly
at him, as she had done the first time he met her. That image
faded, and he saw her on the morning after their wedding, proudly
wearing the curtch that proclaimed she belonged to him.

One by one, images of Mùirne blended, ebbed
and flowed through his mind. And then came the words of their
argument, the last words of their ordinary life together, echoing
from the past, searing him with guilt, torturing him with the
knowledge of how he’d hurt her.

His fingers reached behind the waist of his
triubhas
and clutched at the scrap of tunic he’d saved. He
swallowed hard, trembling with the effort to endure the torment of
Ruairidh’s words as they re-opened his wounds.

“He tried to kill Ailean, meant to kill him,
but…he accidentally killed her instead. I think he wants to buy
Ailean, take him away and kill him.”

James stood silently, looking at Ailean with
an unfathomable expression in his eyes. “We can’t let that happen,”
he said softly.

When all the men finished eating, James left
the barracks without another word. After he left, Ruairidh and
Ailean sat on the edge of Ailean’s cot, talking in low voices.

“You have to find a way to escape.”

“I ran from Latharn once, and I vowed I’d
never run from him again. I wouldn’t be much of a man if I ran
now.”

“You have to. You heard him. I’m sure he
means to kill you. And you have no way to defend yourself.”

“I have to find a way. My da didn’t raise me
to be a coward,” Ailean said. “It would be better to die bravely
than live as a coward. What would my da think of me if—”

“Listen to me. Leave here. Find a way to arm
yourself, then come back and face him,” Ruairidh said. “That’s not
running away. That’s preparing yourself for a fight. Every warrior
prepares himself for a fight.”

Ailean allowed Ruairidh’s words to sink in.
“You’re right. It wouldn’t be running. I’d be preparing myself for
a fight.”

“Aye. But we have to think of a way to get
you away from here.”

They considered first one idea and another.
The thick boards of the wooden floor and the iron bars on the
windows made escape from the barracks impossible. Ailean’s only
chance would come in the morning, when they went to the field to
work.

“We’re digging the rows on the far side now.
If you’re on the end of the line, you’d be close to the woods. If
we could distract the overseer, you could slip away into the brush,
like Tòmas did,” Ruairidh said.

They talked in whispers far into the night,
planning the escape. When nothing was left to be said, they sat in
silence as the day crept upon them, the early pre-dawn light
revealing their strained faces to each other, neither able to
speak.

THIRTY-FIVE