Highland Ballad

by Christopher Leadem

He had shed no tears when order was restored, and his Captain’s body returned to the deep. He was simply gone, along with the life that he had come to know so well.

And though he might easily have found work on another ship, being then a strong and tireless lad of fifteen, he decided that the rise to power was too slow, and too limited at sea. Real opportunity, in his eyes, lay in the military and political arenas.

So when the ship returned to Plymouth, he joined the army as an infantryman, and later forged and sponsored his own commission as officer. At every step he gained the reputation of a fearless soldier, and of a fierce, unyielding leader of men. Such indomitable young lions were much needed in those days of expanding Empire, and could rise quickly to positions of prominence, especially along the frontiers.

Nor was he to rise in rank alone, but also in station. After a determined search, he at last found a noble family in ruin, ready to collapse. And through a combination of bribes, extortion, and the threat of violence, he forced the aging and childless Lord to recognize him as his legitimate son, and rightful heir to his name and property alike. The old man died but a few months later, his spirit broken, his body racked by poison.

And so he found himself at twenty-nine, his implacable charge taking him to the heights of his profession, swift and sure as an arrow’s flight. He had no illusions; he had no dreams; and he could not conceive of anything that would alter his life’s course in the least. He believed he knew and understood all that the world held for a man, and did not hold. He knew what he wanted, and he was willing to pay the price.

Yet it was at the very heart of this emotional wasteland that the one kindness, the one exception of his life had somehow found him. He had just returned from southern Africa, where forces under his command had crushed a native uprising before it could gather impetus and support. In honor of this he had been decorated, and invited to a special reception held for him at the summer estates of the Earl of Sussex.

Arriving in little-used dress uniform, making no attempt to hide his disdain for this aristocratic gathering and all that it implied, he had seemed, as he often did in society, a poorly disguised wolf among dogs. His one desire was to make the acquaintance of those persons who could advance his career, ignore those who could not, and get out before his deep-seated hatred of the rich caused him to do or say something he would later regret.

But during the meal he found himself seated across from a beautiful and fragile young woman who for some reason looked down, blushing, each time his eyes fell upon her. There was something in her face. . .he had never been able to describe it. . .that made him curious about her. He felt drawn to her somehow. He did not know why, nor did he think to ask. Thinking and asking, outside the pale of his ambition, were a thing almost forgotten.

So when the company moved to the ballroom he stayed on, and after watching her for several minutes from a distance, approached her and asked her to dance. She flushed more deeply than before, looked up at him with pleading eyes. She started to say yes, then fell into a swoon.

Oblivious to all else in the room, indeed, in all the world, he caught her up and carried her to the freer air of the balcony. Those who tried to follow were met with such a murderous glare.....