A Spy at the Highland Court

by Barclay, Celeste

  “Because she enjoys being thanked,” Tavish grinned.

  The brothers embraced, unashamed to show their affection for one another. Both were relieved they had survived another battle. The brothers walked toward Ric and Edward, their arms resting on each other’s shoulders. They looked down at the man who lay on the ground before Ric and Edward.

  “Is he dead? Who is he to ye?” Magnus asked.

  “I lived in his household as his squire from being thirteen to twenty. He was as close to a father as I ever had. He made me into a man. He has a son named for me.” Ric looked down at Geoffrey before bending over and rolling the man onto his back. The older man groaned as his eyes fluttered open. From his position on his back, the English knight looked at the four towering men looking down at him.

  “I should have known Hell would be filled with Scots,” Geoffrey grumbled as Ric reached out his hand and pulled his former mentor to his feet. The English knight looked around and found a few of his men sitting injured or standing looking dazed. He was surprised the Scots were not sweeping through the injured, finishing off any who still breathed.

  “You’re defeated, Geoff. These men won’t be fighting again any time soon. Return to Lady Marjorie and give her my regards.” Ric spoke quietly as he tried to keep his raw emotions from rising to the surface. He was relieved his friend survived, but he knew letting the man live would only mean meeting him on a battlefield again. He knew without a doubt that he would not return to King Edward’s service. He could not serve as the brutal man’s spy, and he would not kill the countrymen who welcomed him rather than ostracized him.

  Ric whistled, and two horses trotted forward from two different directions. It was the whistle Geoffrey taught him and made him practice over and over as he trained his destrier from a colt. Ric caught the bridles and led the horses toward the riverbank. He released them, so they could drink. Geoffrey had followed him.

  “You’re not coming back, are you?”

  Ric looked back at the older man and shook his head.

  “I knew it was only a matter of time. You have the soul of Scot, no matter how Edward tried to hammer it from you. Your father was a better man for loving your mother.”

  Ric swallowed and nodded.

  “What will you tell Edward?”

  “What was it you said? Ah yes, ‘there was simply more of them than us.’ I think that will suffice, especially since I can send it in a missive.” Geoffrey chuckled but held his head. “Did you have to hit me so bloody hard? My head feels like it’s been used as an anvil.”

  “I couldn’t let the Bruce’s brother kill you, but I couldn’t bring myself to force you to surrender.”

  Ric looked out over the river before turning to Geoffrey.

  “Who will the king send to kill me? Will it be you?” Ric was not sure he wanted the answer.

  Geoffrey continued to stare at the river and shook his head.

  “It might be me. The first time. I won’t do it, so the king will have to find someone else, and I don’t know who it will be. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s Lady Bella. It wouldn’t be the first time for her.”

  “That woman hasn’t had a first time for anything since she was knee high to a grasshopper.”

  Geoffrey chuckled again, this time coughing as a result. “That is true, but I understand she is already here. Or at least in Scotland, that is.”

  “She appeared at my clan’s keep, and I threw her out. She appeared at the Bruce’s court, but I did not see her before I left.”

  “Is there a woman?”

  Ric rubbed the back of his neck before nodding.

  “Keep Bella away from her.” The warning was clear, and Ric’s stomach soured as she thought about the two women being together at court. “She won’t still be at court. She’s bound to be somewhere nearby awaiting a report from one of these men. Hopefully, her informant is laying here getting cold. She’ll tell Edward of your role in my defeat. She’s bound to learn of it. She sees and hears more than God himself.”

  “Only because she’s the Devil.”

  “Ric, I wish you the happiness your father found with your mother, but I also wish you the long life I’ve had with Marjorie.”

  “Thank you, Geoff.”

  “One day, maybe within our lives, there will be peace long enough for me to meet your lady.”

  “I would like that. Lady Marjorie would adore Isa.”

  “Isa?”

  Ric felt a bolt of panic not having meant to share Isa’s name with Geoffrey. He trusted the man, but he did not trust the walls in Geoffrey’s keep.

  “Don’t fear. I won’t ask her surname, and I’ll only speak her name to Marjorie when I’m sure no one will hear.”

  Ric nodded, feeling the tension ease slightly within his belly.

  “Take care, Geoffrey.”

  Both men knew their conversation could not carry on much longer. Geoffrey’s men were already collecting the wounded and putting them on wagons to take back to their camp. The Scots were doing the same, while men from both sides were digging graves for the fallen. There were too many to travel with, so their final resting place would have to be where they fell.

  “I wish you the same. Ric, the MacLellans are next. Ride there now or it’ll be too late. Hargate’s been given orders to raze the land and burn the keep.”

  The men embraced, and Geoffrey mounted before giving the signal to his men who were not burying the dead to retreat. Ric walked back to his newfound friends and compatriots.

  “My clan is next. We ride to the MacLellans. There’s an order to raze their fields and burn the castle. I must warn my cousin.”

  “Yer father was betrayed by his friend, but it would seem yers is ever loyal.” Magnus nodded toward Geoffrey.

  Ric watched Geoffrey ride away without moving. When the man faded from sight, he looked at the others.

  “Lord Wingate is a good man. He is the one who taught me that honor is the only thing a man can ever truly call his own. He will fight for Edward because fealty binds him, but his honor also knows that Edward’s determination to be the Hammer of the Scots is wrong. He lives along the border, too. He’s seen, and lives with, the damage this war is doing. He’s lost friends and family just as the rest of us have. He has risked a great deal informing me of Edward’s next target along with losing this battle. He may very well die for this battle, even if it’s not on this field. Edward will not accept defeat with grace.”

  “Then there will be a marker on yer head for leading us to victory.” Tavish watched him closely, and Ric did not respond. What Tavish said was true, and the only way to appease the easily offended king would be to send back information that would lead to an English victory. This was something he was unwilling to do. He would continue to supply Bella with half-truths and lies, but he would not compromise his honor any longer. He was, finally and firmly, in Robert the Bruce’s camp.

  Chapter Eleven

  The ride to the MacLellan keep was made in pouring rain that made the horses slip and sucked the feet of the soldiers in the resulting bog. The men grumbled about sleeping on the sodden ground, puddles forming around them during the night. By the time they reached the border of the Maxwell and MacLellan territories, Ric was ready to sell his soul for a dry chamber, a hot meal, and a steaming bath. The rain lessened over the next two days as they rambled on to the keep where Ric’s cousins welcomed them. His mother’s cousin Emelyn was just as happy to see him this time as when he rode in unexpectedly several weeks earlier. His second cousin was less excited, especially when he clearly began calculating how much it would cost his clan to house and feed so many warriors. Malcolm’s demeanor did not improve with having to share his home with Highlanders, but he begrudgingly thanked them for their arrival when the impending dire circumstances were explained. It was Edward Bruce who finally convinced Malcolm that the threat was imminent, and just as possibly horrifying, as the one what killed Ric’s mother.

  Edward Bruce was familiar with Lord Harg
ate, just as Ric was. Both men knew the baron could be reasonable and judicious, but only where England’s interests lay. He was ruthless and vindictive when it came to squashing the Scottish aspirations for independence. It was these reasons that led Geoffrey to warn Ric of his next opponent.

  Their first evening in the keep saw Ric, Edward, and the Sinclairs well fed and attended. The serving lasses tried to catch the attention of each man, but none of them paid them any mind. By the fourth course, the women were growing impatient and frustrated that none of them had managed to garner more than a half-hearted, distracted smile. When one of them tried to seat herself on Tavish’s lap, he pushed back on his end of the bench like a scalded cat and nearly unseated Magnus. The latter found it hilariously funny until another woman’s breasts practically tumbled into his face as she refilled his chalice. He pulled away so abruptly that wine spilled across the table and dribbled from the edge. The woman squealed and almost tumbled back into Ric. It was a comedic scene that had many of the people sitting at the lower tables laughing hysterically while the men shot daggers from their eyes at Malcolm. Eventually, Lady Emelyn stepped in and shooed the serving women away, explaining they had set their sights on happily married men and that they would do better with the other warriors.

  By the time the meal ended, Ric struggled to keep his eyes open. Each of the men had the opportunity to bathe before the meal, and when he entered his chamber, he found Robbie had already laid out his belongings. He had released the squire to find his own entertainment with the other younger men of the clan, who were not quite as suspicious as the older members. Ric climbed into bed, and his eyes drifted shut. His breathing was just settling into a deeper pattern when he heard the door handle jiggle. He did not expect Robbie back so soon, so he grasped the dagger he had tucked under his pillow. He kept his eyes closed, pretending to sleep, until he heard the door close behind the intruder. The unwanted visitor wore a heavy cloak, obscuring any chance of being recognized. Ric opted not to wait to discover if the person was friend or foe, so he flung the knife toward the doorway, embedding it into the wood only inches from the person’s head. The hood flew back, and a livid Bella rushed toward him.

  “You could have killed me,” the irate woman hissed.

  “And you know I am not a man whose chamber you should be sneaking into. Once again, Bella, what the bloody hell are you doing here?” Ric sat up but tucked the bed covers around his naked body. He glared at the woman who was rapidly becoming the bane of his existence.

  “You led a very successful defense—or was it really an offense—against Lord Wingate. I’m not sure the king will understand why.”

  “Because refusing to fight would only make the Scots suspicious. I can’t learn anything of worth if I don’t have access to them, or worse, I’m dead.” Ric’s tone made his impatience clear.

  “Do not speak to me as though I’m a simpleton. I—”

  “Then don’t act as one. Bella, you seem to be the one who doesn’t want the king to gain the information he demands. You keep endangering this mission with your unwillingness to wait. You keep making appearances in the most inopportune places, and you made people suspicious at Robert’s court.”

  “Do you mean the woman who kept making doe eyes at you the entire time? Does she suspect you’re there for motives other than making a new home?”

  Ric would not answer that. He would not endanger Isa, and he did not want to consider whether Isa did not trust him as much as he hoped. Never mind the fact that he did not want to consider his own guilt and complicity in deceiving her. His feelings for her ran true and deep, but he could not overlook the fact that he was still bound to King Edward.

  “Are you not listening to me?” Bella demanded.

  “Not particularly. I’m exhausted and will have to ride out early in the morning. I would like to enjoy my sleep while it is in a bed and not a pond.”

  Bella glared at him as she inched closer, and Ric pulled the bedding tighter.

  “Oh, do stop. I am no more interested in bedding you than I am any other Scot. I am here on the king’s behest. And so are you. You would do well to remember that.”

  “And you would do well to remember how to be subtle. You will land us both in a dungeon if you persist in seeking me out. If I didn’t know better, I would think you are the one trying to sabotage this mission.”

  Bella sniffed and turned her nose up before spinning toward the door.

  “Very well. I shall return to Stirling and await your return. You had better return with news of Scottish defeat and humiliation. I don’t know of anything else that will appease King Edward. His messengers are demanding more information than I have to offer. You are complicating both of our lives.”

  “Perhaps if you had been in a battle or two, you might understand that there is more to winning and losing than who limps away with the least number of wounds to lick. Gathering useful and accurate information about an enemy’s strength and weaknesses is not as simple as facing them once. You wish to do your job, but you must let me do mine. Now leave before someone passes the door and hears voices. I’ve already thrown you out of this keep once. Spare yourself the ordeal of me doing it again. Be discreet as you leave. If anyone questions, or even suspects, that I was tupping you, I will kill you. King Edward’s delegate or not. I won’t be of any use if they all question my honor when they believe I’m pursuing someone with genuine intentions.”

  “And are those intentions genuine? Do you wish to marry that insipid little girl?”

  “What matters is the perception. Leave, Bella, before I throw you out.”

  The woman slipped out through the door just as quietly as she entered. Ric fell back against the pillows and prayed Bella would leave him in peace before she ruined everything.

  Morning brought a throbbing headache for Ric as he squeezed his eyes shut. Robbie’s snores reassured him that his squire made it back to their chamber in one piece. He wondered if having Robbie present would have helped or worsened his conversation with Bella. No one had come pounding on his door with accusations, so he assumed no one was any the wiser about her visit. He prayed nothing would be said at the morning meal.

  Ric nudged Robbie awake before dressing himself in fresh leggings and surcoat. He chewed a sprig of mint and ran his fingers through his hair before making his way below stairs. He scanned the occupants of the Great Hall and then the dais. No glares or whispers came from the people who saw him. He allowed himself a sigh. He took his place at the dais and poured honey onto his porridge, but he had not taken his first bite before Malcolm began demanding answers.

  “How many men will be arriving to attack my home and my people? Are they coming because of you? What are you going to do to keep them from even stepping foot on my land?”

  Ric swallowed the lump of porridge that sat on his tongue as he decided how best to answer his cousin’s questions. He attempted not to grimace.

  “I cannot say for sure how many men but knowing Lord Hargate and the demands he will have received from King Edward, I would venture to say well over two hundred men, if not more. It will depend upon whether he has enlisted the aid of any other border barons. They are coming because they have failed to gain any footholds to the west. The fact that I am here will only make trying to kill me all the better revenge for Edward, but I am not the only reason for their arrival. We already have patrols set up to assist yours, and I intend to depart on a sortie this morning. I imagine Edward Bruce and the Sinclairs will do the same. We haven’t spoken yet. Once we have news of Hargate’s location and numbers, we can plan accordingly.”

  “And if they are already on my doorstep? If they are so close they can spit and hit us?”

  “Then we would already know. Hargate likes his comforts. He will have a massive tent with furnishings along with all that is needed to feed and support two hundred warriors. He is not going anywhere quickly or quietly. We will find him before he finds us. Even a hundred scouts could return here before his lumbering arm
y makes an appearance.”

  Malcolm appeared mollified by Ric’s brisk answers. He nodded, clearly pleased that Ric had answers without having to mull over anything.

  “I’ll ride out with you. My men will only wear their dark plaids, nothing to give away our clan, assuming this Hargate lord hasn’t already crossed the border to my land. We look for his scouts and harry them enough to send a message, but remember, dead men don’t speak. Killing all of them won’t serve our purpose. I intend to give Hargate the impression that he is facing a larger force than he assumes.” Malcolm spoke with the authority only a laird possessed, and Ric had to agree with the man’s plan.

  Ric finished his bowl of porridge as Malcolm spoke and rose from his chair. He looked down the table to where Tavish, Magnus, and Edward now sat quickly shoveling their own porridge. He signaled Robbie and told him to relay the news to the men that they would be departing within the hour. The sun had barely touched the horizon.

  His cousin’s tracking skills impressed Ric. They undoubtedly surpassed even his own. Rain had washed away much of the path Ric and the others took to arrive at the MacLellan keep, but Malcolm quickly spotted the remnants and followed it several miles east toward the border the McLellans shared with the Maxwells. Malcolm called a halt when he noticed a new set of prints that belonged to more than one horse.

  “I believe we’ve found the first traces of one of their scouting parties. The prints are fresh from this morning. They haven’t ventured close enough to see the keep, if they only came this way, but they are far closer than I’m comfortable with.”

  Magnus slipped from his horse, having remained silent for most of the ride. He was a superior tracker in his own right, but he had deferred to the laird. He followed the hoofprints until they seemed to disappear. He moved aside brush and found prints leading toward a meadow. The open expanse would either allow them to catch the scouts or lead them to an ambush.