The Stealth of Caledon

By Virginia Crow

“You who harm my people, you shall pay for this. I am Caledon and, with each suffering my people endure, my enemies shall feel the intensity of my pain.”

It is 1747. Danger haunts the depleted Clan of Caledon once again as a stranger arrives in Golspie, with a startling knowledge of the group.

After the rollercoaster of events in the first book of Caledon, the clan regroup to find a new strength. However, there is a stranger who has arrived in Golspie...a stranger who has an unnatural knowledge of the Clan of Caledon, and their eile.
The clan battle against a new enemy, while trying to always outwit the militia and the witches. But success is far from certain, and one clansman may have to turn against them for the greater good.

The Caledon series is packed full of adventure, while still keeping within the historical boundaries of the 18th century. If you’re interested in Scottish history, or mythology, then this new take will have you glued to the page.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Virginia Crow
• Release date: Jan 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781913182236

Virginia Crow

Virginia grew up in Orkney, using the breath-taking scenery to fuel her imagination and the writing fire within her. Her favourite genres to write are fantasy and historical fiction, sometimes mixing the two together. She enjoys swashbuckling stories such as the Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas and is still waiting for a screen adaption that lives up to the book!When she's not writing, Virginia is usually to be found teaching music. She believes wholeheartedly in the power of music, especially as a tool of inspiration.She now lives in the far flung corner of Scotland, soaking in inspiration from the rugged cliffs and miles of sandy beaches.She loves cheese, music and films, but hates mushrooms.

Book preview

Part One:

The Persecutor and the Protector

The Remaining Strength

To anyone looking up from the town of Lairg, deep in the heart of Scotland’s tumultuous Highlands, the hills stood clad in the brilliance of late July. Looking more closely, they might have noticed a dash of white amongst the pink and purple of the heather. But the four men who lived here were skilled in camouflage and had learnt to draw from and celebrate their country. It was no exaggeration to say they were as much a part of that land as the rocks and the heather which hid them. They were the Clan of Caledon and the tall, pale man, who sat against one of the enormous rocky outcrops, carried the burden of Caledon itself. To see James Og no one would believe it true. He was nondescript, especially given the majestic bearing of the man with whom he spoke, but there was a quiet self-confidence to him and the fire of power in his grey eyes.

I wonder how Polson got on, James mused as he looked down at the boot he held. And Mackay, for that matter.

They have no love for one another, Malcolm laughed. But it will be the earl who has to resolve their differences.

I almost pitied him. When he arrested Polson, he- James stopped.

Compassion is not a weakness, Caledon, Malcolm said softly. Whatever Mackay might say.

James offered half a smile and nodded in a vague manner. He had felt pity towards Ensign John Mackay, for he had lost his daughter and been belittled by the actions of the clan. But, if ever James found himself feeling remorse towards the man, he would recall the sickening image of his cousin hanging from the wide branch of the gallows tree.

Malcolm must have followed his thoughts for he leaned back and sighed. Donald Mackenzie should have witnessed Mackay’s ridicule. There is nothing wrong with naming him, Jamie, he added as James set his face hard.

What are we to do, Caledon?

James turned at this new arrival and met the fierce gaze of the wildcat, Caledon’s zeal. The green eyes rested in an intense face with sharp features beneath a neatly managed head of rich auburn hair. There was very little in appearance and manners to suggest this man and Malcolm were half-brothers, except for the loyalty which both had exhibited to Caledon.

We wait, Robert, James muttered. Wait and enjoy the sunlight.

The three of them sighed and tried to celebrate the warmth of the summer sun, but each was distracted by the threat which might have been about to present itself. Robert crouched down and stared at the town below them, Malcolm watched as the great eagle took to the skies, while James closed his eyes and found that his mind’s eye focused on the face of Caledon’s Wisdom, Annie.

For a time she did not move but, as sleep and sunshine washed over him, the vision became alive and in his dream he followed her towards the great waterfall.

I don’t want to see it, James persisted as they reached the final bend before the source would become visible.

You need direction, Caledon, she stated flatly.

It finds me in my dreams. I don’t need to seek it.

He’s not there. You can’t ignore it forever.

James nodded slowly and allowed her to take his hand once more. Turning the corner, he stared up at the waterfall, watching as it clawed its long tendril hands from the rocks and spread its arms out over the pool. He frowned across, no longer inspired and awestruck by this image but instead seeing it as an ethereal deceiver. It had the power to return his cousin to him, but it had refused to do so, instead forcing him and his clan to witness the final torturous hours of Donald Mackenzie’s life.

You have returned, Caledon, the waterfall’s emotionless voice stated as its cavernous eyes opened.

I’m not here by choice, James muttered, looking over his shoulder and wishing he could retreat along the ravine.

You are here because your wisdom has brought you here, Jamie Caledon. It is time you learnt to accept your clan for their strengths and trust them. You will learn much this way.

James turned towards Annie but found that she had vanished, replaced instead by a large raven which sat on the ground, surveying him through black eyes.

What do you want of me? Every time I come here, seeking direction, advice, support, all I ever get is derision.

You had the support of one of Caledon’s most loyal sons here. It was you who chose never to see him.

Donald Mackenzie?

Indeed. You would not heed him as your strength and now you are weak.

You said you would save him, James shouted back, sounding like a petulant child. Why didn’t you?

The raven stretched out its broad wings and gave an indignant croak at his tone, but the waterfall’s voice never altered as it replied.

The veil of death is not something the living can comprehend. You assured me you were content for a sacrifice to be made and I have remained true to that bargain. And your strength has, too. Do you not know how many times Strength has been by your side since the death of Donald Mackenzie? You should not have been so quick to dismiss the other members of your clan, for they know far more than you have given them chance to say.

I cannot listen to them talk to me of Donald Mackenzie, James whispered, lowering his head in shame. His sister was right: his death is on my hands as greatly as it is on Mackay’s.

Time is a cruel mistress, Caledon. But if you silence talk of this man it is you who ends his legacy.

Time? James repeated.

She seeks to manipulate you, Caledon. And you are allowing her to do so. You must fight against her and her sisters.

Fight against time?

But first you have a duty to perform.

Direction? he muttered, glancing across to smile at Annie, who was now sitting beside her Eile.

Indeed. There is a man at Helmsdale who you must seek out. His life is in great danger. But to do this, you will need all your clan. And you will need to trust and command them, too.

One man? Who is he that he matters so greatly?

Before the peculiar apparition could offer an answer, James jumped awake at the sound of a gunshot. He had returned once more to the mountainside. Malcolm was already crouching beside him, and James followed his outstretched hand to where moonlight was glinting on the barrel of a gun a short way down the hill.

Who is it? James hissed.

One of the militia, Robert replied as he knelt down beside his brother. They’ve been poaching and pillaging since Mackay lessened his control over them. Polson runs no discipline at all.

What was he shooting at?

All three of them fell silent as a second shot sounded and they watched as the militiaman collapsed.

What is going on? James demanded, more annoyed than frightened.

It’s William, Robert muttered after a moment and rose to his feet. James rose, too, and glared across at the redheaded Hanoverian who walked towards them.

What are you doing? Did you just kill that man?

He would have killed you quick enough, Caledon, William said defensively.

You can’t know that, James began, but he stopped as a prolonged howl sounded from further along the Shin. Robert rose to his feet and stared across at the Hanoverian.

The wolf? That’s why you shot him?

Polson has set a price on it.

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms across his chest, while Robert laughed slightly. James, however, snatched William’s arms and stared angrily across at him.

What is it about that wolf? Why do you defend it so violently? Even at the expense of your own health?

I told you before. You would not believe me. William shook James’ hands from him and began walking away.

Why don’t you try telling us? Malcolm said softly, seeing the tension between the two would not lessen until they accepted one another’s viewpoint. Since you haven’t told us, how can you know we won’t believe you?

I tried telling you, William whispered, not turning to face them but pushing the pistol into his belt. Polson is hunting the Eile. He will not stop until he has killed them all, and he knows the wolf is one, for it was his grandfather who killed the last wolf in these lands fifty years ago.

James stared at William, realising what he was saying, but it was Robert who replied.

Your Eile is a wolf? I didn’t know.

No, William whispered, turning to face them. No, my Eile is a marten.

But we have seen Caledon’s, Robert continued. And Annie has a raven.

The dog? James choked.

Malcolm? Robert asked. Is it yours?

No, Jamie said flatly. "It is Donnie’s. It was Donnie’s."

Malcolm remained silent as tears spilt from James’ eyes. Robert frowned across in confusion at this revelation while William nodded.

Did it not seem strange, Caledon? That the wolf continued to follow us, to warn us of danger, to return even after Malcolm tried to shoot it.

Donald Mackenzie is dead, James said firmly.

But his Eile is not, William replied.

Strength was by my side, James whispered, walking away from them. The words of the waterfall rushed back to him as he collected his belongings. He could feel the weight of his clan’s eyes resting on him, but he ignored them all, determined to hide his tears and bleak thoughts from each of the three men. Why had he ever suspected anything else? Why had he ignored William, who had the greatest understanding of the Eile? He knew the answer to both questions was the same and, as he rose to his feet and turned to address his men, he was forced to acknowledge it. He could not accept his younger cousin was dead. When he had begged the waterfall to save him, it had saved Strength but not its human embodiment. Instead it had provided Caledon with Strength, but robbed James Og of Donald Mackenzie.

We have to find Annie, he muttered and began walking down the incline of the hill. He stopped as he reached the corpse of the man William had shot and looked down with new eyes. How would he feel to have seen this man shoot his cousin? We should bury him.

With what, Caledon? Robert asked. We have no shovels. We could take him into Lairg, but we don’t know who to trust since Polson arrived.

Then we leave him.

They were a sedate group as they walked into Lairg, avoiding the road but choosing to follow the rear of the properties until they reached the baker’s house and Malcolm knocked four times, then two, then three. The door opened and Annie stared across at them. Her brown hair hung loose about her shoulders and her eyes were dark.

James Og, she whispered as she clung tightly to him. It seems an age since I saw you. I was becoming afraid something had happened to you.

It has, Annie. William has taught me something I should have heeded a long time ago.

Annie did not reply but frowned across at the Hanoverian who she could not trust. It was not that he was a Hanoverian, but that the man seemed to have no morals and avoided ever having to speak of himself. None of the Clan of Caledon even knew his full name.

Come, Annie, William began, smiling across sweetly. You must forget that last time you welcomed me into your house I locked you in the larder. It was for the good of Caledon.

Robert laughed and took a seat at the table reaching his hand toward the plate of bannocks but stopped as his brother seized his wrist.

Enough, Robert. You can’t steal from those on our side.

Malcolm kissed Annie’s hand and smiled across at her as James and William walked over to the table, both taking a bannock, leaving Robert frowning despondently at the food, torn between morals and example. Annie smiled up into Malcolm’s bearded face, but her gesture slid as he met her gaze.

What is it, Malcolm?

Jamie has finally resolved the matter of Donald Mackenzie, but it did not have the outcome he wished for.

There was never a better man than Donald Mackenzie. He was too gentle for Caledon’s struggles. He should never have become involved. I wish he had heeded his father’s words and fled to the continent.

Caledon would not have succeeded if Jamie had not had the support of his cousin. And, although he was gentle, it was his strength which inspired the power of Caledon. It’s scarcely a surprise it has taken this long to find direction.

But now we have direction?

Indeed, James interrupted, walking over to her. We must follow the coast north to Helmsdale.

Orphans of the War

The urgency with which the waterfall had directed James towards Helmsdale was not enough to inspire the clan to reach their destination in less than four days. They had travelled there in silence to begin with. William led the way, his sure footing never failing him. At times he turned around, almost surprised to find the other four were keeping up with him. Annie and Robert followed the lanky Hanoverian while Malcolm and James brought up the rear. But as they continued towards the fishing village, conversation began to grow. Jamie had begun to accept the twisted fulfilment of the waterfall’s words in how it had saved Strength, despite failing to restore Donald Mackenzie to life. Even so, as he talked contentedly to Malcolm, the very embodiment of the Nobility he represented, he hated himself as he remembered the cousin who had fled from his mind.

Who is it we are to find? Robert asked as they looked across at the village in the cover of darkness. Dim lights were visible in some of the small houses, but there was little movement.

I don’t know, James conceded reluctantly. I had hoped it would become clear when we arrived.

All of them turned at the sound of gunfire in the direction from which they had journeyed. William’s sharp eyes peered into the night and he crouched down, encouraging the others to do the same before he skidded down the hillside and took shelter in the shadow of one of the rocky outcrops. He snatched Annie’s sleeve as she almost fell from the ledge.

It’s the militia, he hissed as Malcolm sat beside him, trying to calm Annie’s shaken nerves. Where’s Caledon?

Here, Jamie’s voice said softly.

And Robert? Annie asked.

He’s here, too, James replied, realising that the young man could not hear Annie’s concern.

There’s a house a little way toward the coast, Annie continued.

No, William began. I’m not entirely sure that isn’t who the militia are here for.

He pointed towards the red-coated men who marched towards the door. From their position, the clan could see a man and two small children climbing through the window at the back. They began running from the house before the door was opened by a woman.

That is who we are here for, James announced with certainty. We should follow them.

They rushed forward in the direction the man had gone but stopped as screaming filled the air, desperate sickening cries which turned their faces pale to hear. The roof of the house they had just fled from was ablaze, the peats and timbers creating a fierce light in the dark night. Robert did not waste a moment but ran back in the direction they had come from.

Go on, Caledon, Malcolm said quickly. Follow the reason we are here. Don’t let him get away. We will catch you up.

James nodded as Malcolm rushed after his brother. William began following their quarry, and James snatched Annie’s sleeve, and they followed the Hanoverian onward.

Their path, haunted by the terrible cries, led them into the hills once more and did not cease until William stopped abruptly. James looked across at him with an expression which demanded an answer with no words spoken. In reply, William turned to face his companion, and pointed behind him at the same moment as the sound of a gun being cocked caused Annie to gasp.

Please, she began, crouching down to look at the two young, frightened faces that stared out at her from beneath the hedge William had been pointing at. We want to help you.

James watched as she reached out her hands and the two children cautiously took them. Without lowering his pistol, the man walked around the end of the hedge and looked sternly across.

Who are you? Why have you followed us? For while he has the look of a soldier, here he pointed his gun toward William. Neither of you do.

I am James Og. And we have followed you because we were sent to help you.

Who sent you?

Caledon, William interrupted. He does not wish to have our help.

Caledon? came the bewildered reply. You are Caledon?

Yes, James responded. We three are the Clan of Caledon. Two more are back in the village. Why were the militia chasing you? Are you a Jacobite?

No, he laughed, finally lowering the firearm. I fought as my clan dictated, in favour of Hanover. But what has happened since, I have fought against.

He sat down at the foot of the hedge, opening his arms to the two children who rushed over to sit one on either side of him. Waiting until the others sat, although William remained standing, he took up his explanation.

At first I was as staunch a follower as any man could be. I loaded tens of men onto many ships to be deported. But then they came for the women and the children. I could not allow that to happen.

What did you do? Annie asked.

I was a teacher, I hid the children in the school. Children whose fathers I had fought, killed perhaps. But they were innocents.

That’s admirable, Annie whispered.

But then they discovered it. The reach of Sutherland’s men grew some months ago and our village, which had been largely left alone, came under inspection. They evicted women on their names alone, left them and their children to starve because of their absent fathers. Now, with summer dying and winter soon to take hold, I had to do something.

Polson? William asked.

Yes, he continued. The man is driven far more than Mackay ever was. He seemed obsessed with finding the children I had saved. Ten, there were. Seven I returned to their distant families beyond the reach of Sutherland. One I had to bury after she was shot for trying to flee.

And these are your final two, James sighed. Have they nowhere to go?

No, so they have stayed with me and my wife. If I could reach my brother, I feel certain I could gain his assistance, but he lives to the south. I cannot take them through the landscape while the militia still hunt them.

How far away is your brother?

To you or me it is scarcely a day’s walk. But to them, he nodded at the children, one of whom had already fallen asleep. It could take days.

Will you be safe? Annie asked.

I will journey north into Caithness as soon as I am at liberty to do so. My wife has family there who will shelter and protect us.

James nodded thoughtfully and watched as Annie wrapped her shawl about the smallest child who could only have been five years old. As the silence prolonged, William walked a short distance away and stared into the night as though he could see something amongst the peculiar shades of grey. Jamie walked over to him.

What is it?

I’m not sure his wife will be able to help.

What do you mean? Jamie began, glancing over his shoulder to where Annie knelt beside the children. Surely she would wish to see her husband safe. And fleeing Sutherland may be the only way they can do it.

I think it was her voice which caused Robert to leave and Malcolm to follow. I’m not sure she will be alive.

I could not imagine any man worse than Mackay, James mused, willing himself to forget the image of his dead cousin each time the man’s name was mentioned. But Polson is beyond driven. He is using Caledon’s people to lure out the Eile.

We have to protect them. As they protect us. William turned to face James and frowned slightly. It is the strangest thing, Caledon. Each time Polson’s name is mentioned I find I think more and more of… he stopped and shook his head.

Of what? James asked, snatching William’s red-coated sleeve.

A darkness, William muttered. And a person from my past. I can’t be free of it.

Who is it?

William did not answer except to shrug his shoulders in a neutral way, making it clear he had no interest in explaining himself. He sat down of the ground watching towards the village in the distance.

Walking back to Annie, James watched as the woman fell asleep leaning on his chest, and he stared up at the stars. If what he had been told this night was true perhaps Polson was the enemy of whom he had been warned. But each time he considered this, he repeatedly returned to the hatred he felt for Mackay. In his mind, there could be no one worse than the ensign.

The Loyalty of Brothers

Robert had never given thought to his actions. His passion, his zeal, his very purpose in living had always demanded he acted upon his instincts with little or no regard for the consequences. His brother, though, had always been a counter to his behaviour and now, as he reached the burning house, overlooked by Helmsdale castle, was to be no exception. The militia had left and, by the time Malcolm reached him, Robert had pushed open the timber door and was about to run in. The cries which had first alerted him to the burning building, had ceased now and he could not bear the thought of what this might mean.

Robert, wait, Malcolm began, snatching his brother’s wrist. Wait here. I’ll go look inside.

Before the younger man could argue, Malcolm pulled him aside and stepped into the burning shell. There was only one person in the room, and it was towards her he hurried, pulling out the knife that hung from his belt and cutting the cords that had bound her to one of the timber beams overhead. Her lifeless form dropped into his arms and he dragged her from the building and over to Robert.

Is she alive? the younger man asked, frowning across at his brother.

Malcolm shook his head slowly. They had tied her there, he muttered, his voice filled with distaste and sorrow. Tied her so she could not escape.

There’s no wonder she screamed so, Robert whispered as he knelt beside her. When will Caledon be free of this cruelty? Why is it that, the more we fight, the fewer battles we win?

That is what it is to be a soldier, Malcolm sighed as he lifted the body of the woman. But you must never stop fighting.

We keep meeting such hopeless ends, came the reply. Robert did not rise but studied his hands thoughtfully.

They’re not ends, Malcolm whispered. Come on, we have to find the others. But first we must find somewhere to lay this woman.

Malcolm carried the body to the church, and they left her there in the churchyard before they began walking in the direction they had last seen William guiding the others. But neither Robert nor Malcolm had William’s talent for tracking and navigation and, as they walked out into the night, tiredness overcame the two brothers. Upon finding a little shelter against a stone dyke, they settled down to sleep, each wearied by the bitter events of the evening.

For a time Malcolm could not sleep. He watched his brother trying to get comfortable until Robert’s gentle breathing pattern sang of his slumber, but still he could not find his own. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything but the image of the tethered woman who had been suffocated by the peaty smoke of her own house.

You came.

Malcolm looked down at the cord he held in his hand before he followed the thick hemp rope to where it rested around the throat of the man he had thought to never see again. The calm, gentle blue eyes of Donald Mackenzie stared back at him.

I must be dreaming, Malcolm whispered. You are dead.

Yes, Donnie replied, equally softly. But I needed you to find me.

Malcolm studied the wide man, from his booted feet to the green plaid, which were the only items he wore but for the tethers on his