“And just who do you think will grant you this land?” Malcolm demanded.
Ric shrugged. “I imagine somewhere there is land I can buy where no one will care where I grew up.”
“And how do you plan to survive in the middle of nowhere?” Malcolm scoffed.
“I can hunt as well as any man, and I can tend a garden. That’s all I need.”
Malcolm narrowed his eyes as he considered his next words.
“Why come all the way here to avoid being around people?”
“Kirkcudbright was but a stopping point. I have spent every day of the past twenty years being around other people. I’m looking forward to some solitude.”
“Then why bring a squire?” Malcolm would not relent.
“He is bound to me until he earns his spurs, at which time he can remain with me or enter the service of the king.”
“How can he become a knight with nowhere to train?”
“I haven’t forgotten a lifetime of training just because I don’t wear the king’s insignia. If need be, we will travel to tournaments. I am looking for a life with less bloodshed and death.”
“Then you have come to the wrong place. The borderlands are nothing but bloodshed and death,” Malcolm grumbled.
“Perhaps King Robert would accept your service for a short time in exchange for land,” Emelyn offered.
“Mother! That’s outrageous. The king would never accept an English knight in his midst.”
“He would if one of his lairds vouched for the man.”
Mother and son stared off at one another. While Emelyn had a soft voice and seemed to glide everywhere she went, she had an iron will to match her son’s. It had been necessary to survive along the ever-shifting landscape and to serve as the laird’s wife. Eventually, Malcolm relented.
“You may stay here as long as you like, and when you are ready to travel to court, I will send a missive with you, vouching that you are my cousin.”
“Thank you,” Ric’s gratitude was sincere. He had not imagined it would be so easy to gain entry to the royal court, and he did want to spend time with his family.
The next fortnight was spent learning more about his parents and the history of Clan MacLellan. During the day, he trained in the lists and taught the warriors maneuvers and tricks that the English used in battle. He felt sharing what he knew was not a betrayal to Edward, but a small token for the hospitality his clan offered. No one was overtly rude to him, and many began to smile and acknowledge him as they watched him train their laird’s guardsmen. The evenings were spent discussing the current state of affairs along the border. Ric shared with Malcolm what he knew of the fight further east. When they did not discuss politics, they played chess and games of chance.
Once Malcolm was willing to lower his guard, they fell into a rhythm that reminded both men of their childhoods. Malcolm was a year older than Ric, but they had been close playmates before Ric left the clan. It was only at night, when Dedric lay in bed, that guilt niggled at his mind. He knew he would betray the MacLellans with the information he sent back to the king. Bella would be expecting a report as soon as he arrived in Stirling. He did not doubt that she had already beguiled a man with her charms and made herself comfortable while she waited. She would appear before he could find her.
I don’t have to tell the truth. Bella isn’t here to see whether what I say is real or something I’ve made up. I have the chance to help my people if I give Bella falsehoods.
It surprised Ric how attached he felt to other people for the first time in years. Before arriving, he had not considered whether he would feel such strong loyalty to the MacLellans. He had assumed he would have the same sense of obligation that he felt for the king. He had anticipated feeling torn, but he did not expect to be compelled to protect the MacLellans.
I can tell her that they believe the fight won’t come back to them since so much of it has been to the east. I can tell her that they have grown complacent since there has been peace in the area for more than a year. Longshanks will jump at the opportunity to attempt a siege, but he will be surprised to find such a fortified and well-provisioned keep. Malcolm could lay waste to the king’s men.
Or do I just tell the truth? Do I tell Bella that they are more than adequately prepared for an attack that could come at any time? Perhaps that would deter Edward from thinking he would prevail. Perhaps it would keep him away.
Ric knew the latter was the wrong choice. Edward would want to prove that he could defeat them as violently as possible. Defeating a strong clan would only make him appear more powerful. Ric prayed that telling the king that the MacLellans were an easy target would fool the king into sending a smaller force that the clan could easily overcome. He could not risk another raid like the one that had killed his mother and changed his life forever.
He wrestled with the dilemma night after night until he decided he would only know what to do when the moment came, and the words tumbled from his mouth.
When dawn broke on the morning that he was to depart, Ric found he was in no hurry. He wished he could stay longer, and he wanted to visit more with his mother’s cousin. She had shared stories about his mother that he had never imagined. Emelyn and Emelote were only a month apart in age, and they were inseparable. They grew up in a lesser house of the MacLellan clan, but it was in a strategic location. Emelyn’s father arranged a marriage with the previous laird, William, and Emelote came with Emelyn. Christian Hage was wounded during a battle not far from Kirkcudbright. He was taken prisoner by the laird, and Emelote was charged with healing him enough for William to learn the English’s battle plans. Emelote was a skilled healer, and Christian was soon well enough to move about.
During his recovery, he and Emelote spent a great deal of time talking, and it was not long before they realized they were in love. Christian renounced his fealty and sent his ring and his surcoat back to King Edward. He swore never to lift a sword against the English, but neither would he fight for them. He spent his time much as Ric had, training the Scots to anticipate and counter the English tactics. Christian died in a skirmish against another clan that sided with the English. He had not killed any Englishmen, but he had still killed Scots.
Ric and Robbie stood in the bailey as Rosalind ensured enough food was given to them, and Emelyn embraced Ric.
“Your squire is not half bad. If he decides he’d like to remain in Scotland, then he can make his home here if he likes. He will be a fine addition.”
Malcolm cracked one of his rare smiles as he looked past Ric to a beaming Robbie. He clasped forearms with Ric, and they shared a hearty shake before both relented and embraced.
“You are welcome here, Cousin,” Malcolm whispered.
“Thank you, Cousin. Until we meet again.”
Emelyn stepped forward for one more quick embrace and a peck on Ric’s cheek before he and Robbie mounted and rode out of the bailey.
“Do you think we will receive such a warm welcome in the Bruce’s home?” Robbie’s dry humor made Ric grin.
“I doubt it. I would be sure to have your doublet on. It’ll keep the pinpricks from the swords pointed at us from breaking the skin.”
“And how soon do you believe Lady Bella will find you?”
“Before I reach the castle, I would guess. She’ll already have a network of spies in place for her. Mostly lads your age who are too taken with her and will do her bidding.”
“You needn’t worry about me falling in that category. The woman makes my skin crawl.”
“I wish I had been as wise as you all those years ago.”
They chatted off and on throughout the four days it took them to ride from Kirkcudbright to Stirling. They took turns at watch during the night and were back on the road as the first pinks and purples touched the horizon. They arrived only half as tired and dirty as they had at Kirkcudbright. Robbie remained silent, and Ric spoke in low tones as he acquired a room along with two meals and baths at the inn just within the city walls. This time
when a knock came at the door, Ric was prepared to see Bella.
“Took you long enough,” Bella’s tone was decidedly frostier than it had been during their last two encounters. The woman had not forgiven him for manhandling and humiliating her. He knew there would be a pound of flesh to pay before she warmed to him again. As long as she did nothing to sabotage him, Ric preferred the distance.
“I had plenty to observe and learn. Besides, I needed them to warm to me enough to receive a missive to the king vouching for me. It’s not as though they will open their arms to an English knight.”
“And just what did you learn?”
“They were not what I expected,” Ric tested. He had no idea how soon after her removal from the keep she made her way to Stirling. He would approach his lies slowly, so he could retract them if it seemed she knew more than he presumed.
“And how is that? Not the heathens you thought.”
“Most assuredly not. They were very welcoming to me.”
“That’s nice. Now to the point, please.”
“That is part of the point. They welcomed me and after being shown about, I was given free roam.”
Bella’s ears perked up as she leaned toward him, but this time it was to listen rather than seduce.
“I watched them train and saw their armory.”
Bella nodded as she waited for him to continue.
“As I said, it was not what I expected. Their level of training and preparedness came as a surprise.”
“To the point, Ric.”
“I thought you would see my point already. They aren’t like the Kerrs and Elliots.”
“That’s fortunate since they trounced Edward’s last campaign. Your last campaign.”
Ric nodded as he took in Bella’s comment. She assumed he meant they were less prepared. She had jumped to that conclusion with little pressure from him, and he was relieved. Perhaps he could mislead her without actually speaking any lies.
“They definitely wouldn’t conduct a fight like their western neighbors.” Because their western neighbors didn’t have an English knight to share all the battle strategies and formations that the mounted knights and foot soldiers used.
“Edward will be happy to receive this news. Surely, he will want a win, and if the western clans are the ones to allow him further inroads into Scotland, then your time with your family will be a success.” Bella turned back to the door but paused before opening it. “However, I’m sure it will be your head if you’re mistaken.”
She slipped through the doorway before Ric could say anything, and he realized he had nothing more to say. She had made her own assumptions, and he was content to let her share them with her band of messengers. A perverse part of him hoped that Edward marched his troops to Malcolm’s door. It would shock them to encounter a well-trained force that had strategies to counter each of the English moves. Dedric did not want any of his family harmed, but he was finding he understood how his father switched allegiances.
Chapter Four
Another morning approached. It was still dark in the chamber, and Robbie’s light snores told Ric that he, too, should still be asleep. He could feel the butterflies flapping in his belly as he mentally prepared himself for arriving at the castle. He was just as nervous as he had been in his first battle. He had been a squire for six years before he earned his spurs, but he had never been allowed in an actual battle. The first time he experienced the sweat and grime along with the noise, he had been sure he would be ill. He was nearly certain he could never do it again, but the next morning dawned just this one had, and he rode back into battle. He shut his eyes as he pictured how he would approach the gate and how he would request an audience with Robert the Bruce. He knew the truth of his family’s past was what would grant him any chance. Without his history and that of his parents, there was no reason to believe him. He just prayed he could retell it without his nerves showing. That would only make him look suspicious and cagey.
Ric rolled over and gained a couple more hours of sleep before Robbie was moving about the chamber. The young man was efficient, setting out a plain green surcoat that was well tailored, with embroidery at the cuffs and hem and intricate stitching across the entire front. It showed that Ric was a man of some means, but the lack of insignia indicated that he was not a man of consequence. Robbie assisted him with his boots before he gathered the few things that needed returning to his satchel.
They broke their fast in the tavern dining room, and Ric spent the time listening to the conversations going on around him. The accents had grown much thicker as they progressed north, and some patrons even spoke Gaelic. There were only a few people he could understand. One of whom was a barmaid who flirted with him as she brought two bowls of porridge to their table.
“Ye don’t strike me as a Scot, even one from the Lowlands,” her lilting tones hinted at a burr.
Ric shook his head and quickly shoveled a spoonful into his mouth.
“Where might ye be heading?”
“Court,” he mumbled as he stuffed a chunk of bread in after the porridge.
“Aye, well it’s market day today, so there will be plenty of outsiders and foreigners milling about. Ye won’t be the only ones.” She smiled, and Ric noticed several of her teeth were chipped, but she had a pretty enough face and an ample bosom he had caught Robbie staring at more than once.
“When does the market open?” he asked around the food he still chewed. He knew Eleanor would be aghast, as would Emelyn, to see him speaking with his mouth full, but it disguised his voice better.
“It already has. The gates open at sunrise for the vendors to wheel their carts in. People will begin trickling in within the next hour or so.”
“Thank you.” Ric placed a few coins on the table and nudged Robbie, who had devoured his own bowl and one he snagged from another woman walking by.
They stepped into the morning mist and looked about as the sounds of the market filled the air. They decided to leave their horses at the inn; they would scout the town on foot as inconspicuously as they could. They moved past the food vendors into the millinery goods, and Ric was ready to turn toward the weapons stalls when a head of the fairest blonde hair he had ever seen caught his eye. It was nearly white as it shone in the sunlight that kept breaking through the clouds. He paused and watched as its owner haggled with a vendor. The man in the stall said something that annoyed her, because he watched a woman who could have passed for a country maid transform into a regal lady-in-waiting. He had met enough of them in Edward’s court to recognize one. The young woman’s chin went up while her back went stiff. The expression on her face had gone from an easy and jovial smile to an imperious one, with a blonde eyebrow cocked in challenge. Ric inched forward to hear their conversation, listening to a tone that sounded refined but obviously irritated.
“I understand you have mouths feed and children to clothe, but I also know that your family is far from starving. I saw your children pinching apples, figs, and even a loaf of bread earlier, and your wife’s booth with the ribbons is entertaining half the ladies-in-waiting. You will not perish.” She paused and inched her chin higher. “Unless you refuse to honor the deal we struck last week. We agreed to three shillings for the smaller luminaries and five shillings for the larger ones.”
“That’s robbery, my lady.”
“That’s what we agreed upon. If you couldn’t afford it, then you shouldn’t have shaken on it. If you don’t want my work, then I will find a vendor who does.”
“Ye won’t find anyone to pay as much as ye’re asking.”
“I will, and we both know it.”
“Nay, my lady. Not as a woman, ye won’t.”
“And now we come to the real reason you won’t pay what was agreed upon. You believe to filch from me the money these are worth and then resell them at twice what you are willing to pay me. Because I am a woman. Perhaps I will find my own man to set up a cart for me, right next to yours, and sell the vellums directly. I pay him a por
tion of my earnings, and I come out well ahead.” Ric was now close enough to hear everything that was said between the two, and he watched as the woman tapped a long, well-manicured finger against her chin. “Hmm. I’m so happy we talked, mercer. You have given me a glorious idea.”
The vellums that had been spread across the makeshift counter were quickly and efficiently rolled and a ribbon tied around them. The woman began to back away, but the man reached out, catching himself before actually touching. Her eyebrow twitched, but she waited.
“No, my lady. There is no need for that. I only needed my memory jogged. It was three shillings for the smaller ones and five for the larger ones.”
“It was, mercer. But now it isn’t. I’ve realized that having my own stall will be far better for me.”
“But I depend upon yer work, my lady. It is a favorite among the other members of court.”
“I’m aware. That’s how I know that I will do very well with a cart of my own.”
“But ye won’t be able to get one. Ye must have a man to purchase a stall and to run it. Ye certainly can’t be seen.”
“I was resourceful enough to find you. If you truly want these, I’ve reconsidered my prices. I must make it worth the effort I would otherwise spend setting up that cart. The larger ones are now eight shillings, and the smaller ones are five.”
“That’s robbery, my lady.”
“You’ve said that already. I will be on my way.”
“My lady,” the vendor had sweat trickling along his temples that he attempted to mop away with his sleeve. His face had grown red as the woman’s mind ran laps around his. “I can’t afford that.”
“And I can’t afford less. Not now that I’ll be opening my own stall. Good day, sir.”
The vendor attempted one last tactic as he narrowed his eyes.
“Yer secret will be out the moment ye open that cart.”
A Spy at the Highland Court Page 3
