Lady Eilean

Chapter 1

My parents loved to tell the story of my birth. Whether entertaining travelers to our castle or for fellow lords at banquets, the tale of my arrival into this world was humorous, easy fodder. At least, for my parents it was. After the dinner plates were cleared and everyone was well into their cups, my father would laugh and spear a sly eye down the head table, canvassing all of us children.

"See them, eh?" He'd say, looking across the eight of us with a glassy pride, "my brood. Fine stock, all of 'em!"

"Very nice, my lord." Someone would compliment from the crowd.

"All boys, all of 'em. Except the youngest, down there." Father would jerk his head toward where I sat. "My girl, my Eilean."

All eyes would shift to me and I would wish for magical powers so I could turn myself invisible. Or perhaps the gift of flight so I could soar out of the great hall and away from the humiliation. Only five or six-years-old, I was intelligent enough to know I was the butt of the joke. My face would burn with shame.

"The night she was born was such a shock, wasn't it?" Father would ask Mother, settling down into his chair. Buckling in for the story.

"Aye it was, my lord," Mother agreed with a smile. "A massive storm raged, and I believe it was a Gathering — so we had everyone from the Islands in our home."

"And you were drunk!" Father teased. Mother tried to shush him.

"The details are foggy," Mother said, deflecting her own embarrassment, "but when the midwife held up the creature and proclaimed it a girl I didn't know what to do with myself."

"The MacLeods don't have girls!" Father said, laughing. His voice would get louder, here, as if to add significance to the proclamation. "A thousand years we MacLeods have ruled Ellesmure Island and not a single daughter!"

"The midwife assured me that with such a fine collection of sons, his lordship would be happy to have a girl. 'Every man needs a little lady to dote on', she said. And, she was such a pretty baby, it was easy to love her." Mother said.

About this point in the story, I would feel myself going a little blank in my mind. I did not have to hear the rest, I had heard it so many times. So I would focus on whatever I could stare at the longest. A fork, the candlelight, the stitching on my gown.

"We didn't even know what to call her. We didn't have any names picked out — so unlikely were our chances for a girl." Father laughed.

"And the midwife had to tell us the correct title for the daughter of a Laird!" Mother shrieked, now caught up in the hilarity of my birth.

"Miss Eilean MacLeod, the first woman born of Stormway Castle since time began!" Father would exclaim, raising his glass to toast me. As if I was a blessing and not the object of mockery. "Whatever shall we do with her?"

"Marry her off, my lord!" The audience would always cry. "She must be a true token of luck!"

"Aye, well at least I do not have to parcel out my lands to her, eh? This MacLeod comes cheap!" Father said, drinking deeply from his cup as the crowd hooted around him.

I grimaced in return, doing my best to snuff out the cheers and the teasing. If I stared long enough at the fork or the flame or the stitching I couldn't hear them at all. Could barely see anything aside from upon which I fixed my attention. It was easier to retreat than feel.

~

Despite my distinction as the only MacLeod daughter born in over a millennia, I had a typical childhood. Lonelier, perhaps, than others. My brothers were significantly older than me and gave me a rather wide berth. I believe they found me dull, and on the rare occasion they let me join them in their fun, they complained that I was too slow or too stupid to be a suitable playmate. With my skirts and my ribbons, I was not free to run wild across castle grounds as they were.