Gerald Farley was a worried man. In the three years he'd known Cassandra he'd grown to love the sensitive yet feisty woman. He was drawn to her by more than just her outer beauty. She had seemed such an enigma. Yes he admitted he'd been vulnerable when they first met, a new immortal in need of training. It could be argued that this very vulnerability had made him more than usually susceptible to the charms of a beautiful woman. This did not concern him, if people chose to believe that then it was up to them. He alone knew the truth. it was either his extreme good luck or ill fortune that Cassandra had been the one to offer him that training. He had always considered it his good fortune.
She was accomplished on many things and, despite her femininity she had little lack of strength when it came to handling herself with a sword. He'd become aware over time also that she had other strengths which she could call on in time of need. Her inner core was made of iron he'd discovered and her resolve seldom wavered. She outwardly seemed to have an inner peace which people envied.
Lately though he'd become concerned. Not that recently either he realised. In fact it seemed that something had disturbed his teacher, his lover, since she had returned from Bordeaux, and this had destroyed her inner peace and sense of calm. It had taken him days to get her to stop her shaking. Then for a while it had seemed as though things were going to return to normal. She refused to discuss what had occurred whilst she had been away, but he put that down to the initial stress and then dismissed it as unimportant... she was over it, whatever it was, and wanted nothing more than to continue with her life. So he had let it go.
Still, he could trace all of his partner's changed behaviour back to that one point in time. She'd become withdrawn and even terse on occasion. Her moods were erratic. Her unpredictable and irritable moments had finally convinced Dermot , Cassandra's other student to leave. Now it was just the two of them. Gerald resolved he would not leave her. Whatever the cause of the present changes in his lover he could not abandon her. In the state she was in she was increasingly vulnerable to any passing challenger. She been single minded in he pursuit, and hatred, of the immortal they had targeted in Seacouver. Yet the end result of that little adventure had been to drive Cassandra further into herself. The singular lack of success had distressed her and she now seemed almost incapable of deciding anything, including whether to dress or eat. Her sudden slip into the Slough of Despond had made Gerald more determined than ever to find some way of bringing back the woman he loved.
If Cassandra in the heat of rage was a disturbing sight to behold, Cassandra in the depths of depression was more disturbing still. He needed to find a way of lightening her mood and restoring her equilibrium. He only prayed that the method he had chosen would be the right one.
Connor and John MacLeod were walking along the shore beneath the walls of the castle, as they walked they shared a comfortable and companionable silence. They had spent the past three days together and Connor had learned much of the recent Clan history whilst sharing and confirming what he knew of its past. Then, yesterday evening, they had gone to visit John MacLeod's great-nephew - Catriona's son - Matthew.
John explained to Connor why the ten year old lad was in care and mentioned that his mother was hoping to send for him as soon as she could find an appropriate place for him in the US where she was now working. In the meantime John MacLeod had kept up weekly visits and sent news of her son to Catriona.
Connor had taken quite a liking to Matthew, The boy had an infectious smile and a delightful giggle. It had been a poignant moment when he had first seen him. He was laced firmly into a sort of whole body brace whilst the young therapist who was working with him helped him to hold a paint brush and make large strokes of colour on the easel in front of him. Despite his lack of speech and large muscle function he was clearly not without some intelligence of who he was and the events occurring around him. When John MacLeod had entered the room the boy's face had almost split from smiling, and a gurgling half giggle indicated Matthew's pleasure at seeing him.
Connor had registered all this and was gratified to have the same 100 megawatt smile of delight directed at him when John said "Matthew, here's another Uncle for you to meet. This here is Uncle Connor. Say hello to your Uncle Connor Matthew."
The warmth that the young boy generated with his smile reached deep into Connor's heart, a place which over the years he had begun to build walls around..all the better to keep it from falling prey to feelings which could leave him vulnerable to the emotional pain which had often held him captive in the past.. He had to admit that this child had melted the ice he had cultivated within the centre of his being.
Throughout the visit the two men had played with soothed and stroked the boy, helped with is physiotherapy and fed him. The levels of response the boy had shown had begun to decline towards the end of the two hour visit as he became tired. It was clear to Connor that the task of caring for a child with the severity of handicap Matthew had was one which would require 24 hours a day and compete dedication. Not a task ideally suited to one person on their own, and as Matthew grew older the task would become more difficult. It was clear that the professional's were doing an excellent job and that despite her absence his mother cared for him a great deal. The small mementos ..drawings, toys and letters he had seen by the boy's bed bore witness to that fact..as had the fact that she herself was paying for his care and that she refused all offers of financial help from her Uncle, a fact that was obviously a sore point with the Clan Chief.
It occurred to Connor that the responsibilities of parenthood, something which he and Heather had longed for at the start of their marriage, were sometimes as much of a burden as they were a blessing. He admired those people who were able to commit themselves to being parents, and he felt a quiet surge of admiration for Catriona that she would continue to share as much of the life of her son as she could, where many parents might just have written off their 'damaged' offspring and abandoned them to the care of the state. He made up his mind to see if he could find anywhere suitable for Matthew on his return to the US.
The two men returned to Dunvegan and Connor began making mental plans to return to New York. He had at least ten more days before he needed to be in The States, and he intended to spend at least some of that time visiting his old haunts, Heather's grave for one. However, he could not leave the hospitality of John MacLeod without making some offer of help for Matthew and Catriona. He was about to ask which part of the US his niece was working in when John's secretary came running towards them, seemingly agitated and very out of breath.
" It's the telephone for you Sir," she said breathlessly, "it's the home."She added quietly, but not so quietly that Connor didn't hear it.
Hurriedly taking the mobile phone form his secretary John MacLeod spoke to whoever was the other end, his face creased with concern. "Hello, John MacLeod here".. a pause and then..."I'll be there as soon as possible try not to do anything too hasty."
"Is anything the matter?" Connor asked
"Aye laddie..it's Matthew, he's having a turn and I've been asked to come and help to calm him. The staff at the home want to use as little invasive treatment as possible, which was one of the reasons Catriona chose it, but that also means that when he has an episode someone near to him is required to help bring him round."
"Can I help at all. I would gladly come with you, even if only to give you some moral support?" Connor said, all the while trying to imagine the sweet placid smiling child he'd seen earlier in the midst of an 'episode'..he failed to conjure up any images in his mind, but it was clear that John MacLeod expected the worst from the look on his face.
John MacLeod stared at his newly discovered kinsman. The offer was a very tempting one. Whilst he loved his niece with all his heart and he loved her son as dearly, he always found it very difficult to see the lad in distress and had felt so helpless whenever he had been called to see the boy on his own. It would indeed be a great comfort to have some support. After a moments hesitation John nodded. "Well then laddie, I'll not say no. I always find these times very trying."
"It's always hard to see someone in distress..all the more so when it's someone you care about. I saw many children in need of care and comfort during the war.. I saw how badly they were affected by what happened around them. I also saw what happened to those who were placed to care for them. Some cared deeply and found the task rewarding, some cared deeply and were badly upset by the way the children responded, others seemed to totally detach themselves from the children as people and treat them merely as if they were inconveniences, perhaps that was just the way they coped with feeling inadequate, being unable to actually help some of their charges. Whatever the case I know very well that each of those children was in need of only one thing..love. At least you can be sure that Matthew has that , from what I saw earlier I would recommend that home to anyone whose child was in need of professional care."
John looked thoughtfully at Connor as they walked back to the house. " Aye we are very lucky with the home." He paused . "Did you manage to help any of the children in your charge?" he asked perceptively.
A slight smile crossed Connor's face. "I hope so. I know that at least one child was helped." As they continued into the house he began to tell John the tale of Rachel and how he had rescued and cared for her since that time..and how she now worked for him in New York.
The conversation had the effect he had desired. John MacLeod went from being tense and drawn to relaxed and hopeful. Whatever state the young boy they were going to see was in he could only benefit from having his great uncle as calm and stress free as possible. He aimed to see that state maintained until then.
As the two men entered the room where Matthew was with his carer they saw that the boy was extremely agitated. he was sitting in the corner banging his head against the wall and letting out a piercing high pitched scream. Every time the carer tried to coax him away from the wall or speak to him his agitation grew rather than lessened.
Connor took in the sight and paled, not only at the contrast with the behaviour the boy had exhibited earlier but also because of the memory the scene evoked.
He was immediately transported back to Glenfinnan, a few short months before his first death. A young lad who had been part of his village, the son of a local man and his wife who had died one harsh winter leaving the boy to be taken in by his relations...or fend for himself.
The dead man's family, being elderly and somewhat infirm were reluctant to take on the care of a boy whose faculties were not all that they should be. The dead woman's family all refused point blank to take him in saying that he was possessed by devils and would do them harm.
No-one in the village had been prepared to take in the boy and he had been turned out of the cottage he had occupied with his parents. The building was pronounced a den of evil by various of the village elders who set it alight and razed it to the ground. Afterwards the site of the old cottage was cast about with signs and symbols designed to ward off the evil eye ( the same signs and symbols he realised he had seen only a few days ago decorating the grave of Mary MacLeod) and the boy was cast out of the village.
The boy, who could not have been any older than Matthew now was, had been frightened and not understood any of the ceremony of purification or that he was banished from his home and Clan. He kept returning to the site of his erstwhile home. Finally he had been chased of by men and dogs out beyond the circle of mountains that protected the glen. No-one from the village ever saw him again and Connor had almost forgotten the incident until he himself had faced a similar situation a matter of months later.
It distressed him greatly that he had been unable to help the boy in any way. After his own exile he tried to find the lad without success and in the end had come to accept that the boy had probably been killed by wolves. He could almost here them howling now.
The howling of wolves in his memory faded into the pitiful cries, shrieks and screams of Matthew MacLeod. 'Now at least I can try to be of some help' he thought. Without further ado Connor MacLeod, renowned for his detachment and dour appearance sat himself down in front t of the distressed boy and began crooning a song in Gaelic and English.
"Vair may O robhan O,
Vair may O robahn Ee,
Vair may O ruo- Ho..."
Sad am I without thee."
His voice deep and rich and soothing he continued the song of a lost love and all other sounds in the room ceased as if by magic. Matthew choked on a cry and sat regarding his 'Uncle Connor', his head on one side as if considering some strange new species of being. Eventually he began to copy the sounds he heard, humming gently, as he did so he began to move nearer until he was touching his Uncle's knees. At that point he smiled trustingly up at Connor and raised his arms asking to be lifted. Connor took him onto his lap and closed his arms protectively around him. Continuing to sing he rocked the child and soothed the taught muscles in his back by moving his free arm in circles up and down the boy's spine. In a matter of moments Matthew's eyes closed and he fell into a peaceful, relaxed sleep.
As John MacLeod remarked to the care staff, it had taken a record 3 minutes to gain the child's trust and soothe him, not only that but this time sleep had been achieved almost instantly only Catriona had ever managed to calm her son so quickly before..the previous record ..without Catriona being present ....had been two and a half hours, but then Matthew had managed to injure himself badly enough to need hospital treatment..which in turn had evoked further bouts of unmanageable behaviour. It seemed that they all had reason to be grateful that Connor had been there.
John MacLeod found himself wondering whether or not it had been a coincidence. In his memory he heard his niece's voice
"There's no such thing as coincidence Uncle John..what happens happens, what is meant to be, will be, the 'wheel' takes care of that."
He wondered what her response would be when she heard what had happened here today.