“You won’t give up? Even if you lose this, you’ll continue to fight, will you not? I’m sorry about all that’s transpired. Losing your brothers. Your wife taken captive.” She needed to believe that the Scots would triumph over the cruel English. Robert was the man she believed could lead them in this venture. He couldn’t give up.
He said, “I grieve for my brothers and all the Scots we’ve lost. But like a spider who builds his web after every storm, I’ll continue my quest for the Scots to have what is rightfully ours. Freedom.”
A man came up from behind King Robert and stared at her. Even in the dark of the wood, his face smeared with dirt, she’d have known her brother anywhere. “Joya? Is that you?” Derric took a step closer, peering first at her and then at Robert. He posed his question to the king. “You know her? Truly? Has she worked with you before, King Robert? She tried to tell me, but I wasn’t sure I believed her.”
Her brother looked incredulous, as if shocked to discover the truth.
Joya could only whisper her pain, “Derric, you did not believe me?”
King Robert stared at him. “You did not believe your own sister? Why would she lie?”
Derric, looking sheepish, finally said, “I’m sorry, Joya. Apparently, I’ve been wrong about you all along. I beg your forgiveness.”
“You should. You have no idea how she’s assisted the Scots.” The king pursed his lips and said, “We’ve worked together for nigh on three or four years. Joya is an expert at obtaining information from the English. She’s been irreplaceable, and she’s done it again, Derric. Since she’s your sister, you most certes do owe her an apology. Joya, only you can decide if he deserves your forgiveness.”
Her brother had been different before their parents died—happy, carefree. Back then he would take her on adventures into the woods. He’d find rabbits for her to pet, and he was also the one who’d taught her how to ride a horse. He’d been her idol. “I want, more than anything, to have a relationship with the brother I lost. But do you want this, Derric?”
King Robert crossed his arms, awaiting her brother’s response.
“I do,” he said. Then he wrapped his arms around her for a quick hug. “I’m sorry, and I’ll trust you in the future.”
“Pardon me, my king,” said a familiar voice, the sound sending butterflies through Joya’s middle. Els stepped out of the trees, looking so handsome she wished to throw herself into his arms. “I’ve been following the lass to make sure she is safe. I need to see what she’s uncovered about the Grant bairn.”
“What is this about the Grant bairn?” the king asked. “Which Grant?”
“Alasdair Grant’s wee son was kidnapped,” Joya explained. “They wish to exchange him for Alexander Grant. Els, I’ve seen him. John’s fine, but I don’t like the fool who is watching him. I must go back to guard him. He needs someone to protect him until the Grants arrive.”
The king’s brow furrowed. “I would advise you not to go back for long. If they find out you’ve misled them, they’ll likely kill you. And who are you?” he directed to Els.
“Elshander Grant, my king, grandson of Alexander Grant.”
Joya stood back, listening to the two talk. It felt almost surreal to see them together, the three most important men in her life.
“And which of his children do you belong to?”
“Jamie.”
“One of the lairds. I hope the Grants will continue to stand with me. When I am able to come out of hiding, I may call upon your sire for assistance in the Western Highlands. There are some who still stand with King Edward, though he’s near death is my guess. He’s failing, but he’ll take as many of us down as he can before the end.”
“Aye, you have the support of my clan,” Elshander said, reaching out for Joya’s hand. She gave it gladly, and he moved a wee bit closer to her.
“Ah, and you’ve chosen a fine woman, I see. Take good care of this lass. She’s special.” King Robert turned to see who stood nearby. “Derric, choose one hundred of my men and set up an ambush on the long side of the loch. I’ll join you shortly. Elshander, please escort Joya back to the camp. See that she arrives safely, and if you are not successful in getting the wee laddie back, I pledge whatever assistance I can give after this skirmish is done.”
Then he slipped off into the woods. Derric leaned over and gave Joya a quick hug before leaving to do as he was instructed. Joya noticed there was a bit of a bounce in his step that she hadn’t seen in a while. Perhaps his experiences since he left hadn’t been the best either. He’d been forced into fighting at a young age. She glanced up at Els. “Do you suppose he’s happy to have been put in charge?”
Els tipped his head, watching the men leave, a few of them pausing to pat Joya’s shoulder as they passed. “Aye, that and the pride he has in his sister. I think your brother may be changing his ways.”
Once they were nearly alone, or at least it felt like it—there was no knowing who hid in these trees or where—he nodded to a big boulder close to them, “Come sit on this rock with me and tell me what you know.”
“Aye, but it must be quick. They plan to attack soon. I must get back and foil their plans as best I can. I want the English to be slack, to think there will be little to fight here.”
“Tell me about John,” he said, holding her hand and rubbing his thumb back and forth.
“They called me over to assist a daft fool, who took me inside the hut where John was being kept. He was verra tired, as if they’d given him something to make him sleep. But he asked for Mama and Papa, and he still had his sword. They have not hurt him from what I could see.”
“Can you check on him again? I’m certain my grandsire will come to Ayr for the trade, if he’s well enough, though what plan my family has concocted, I don’t know. But we have two days before ’tis to take place. Hopefully, this skirmish will be over by then.”
King Robert bellowed to them from a distance. “Take her back, Grant, before they become suspicious.”
“He’s right,” Joya said, “I must return.”
Els stood, helping her to her feet. He kissed her quickly on the lips and whispered, “I’m proud of you. Please be careful. I will assist our king, then I’ll hide in the woods again to keep watch over you.”
“I’ll be careful.”
She shuffled out the same way she’d come in, a crust of bread tucked in her hand, practicing the story she’d tell the earl.
Praying at the same time for all to be well. She had too much at stake in this battle.
A wee bairn, her brother, and the man she loved with all her heart.
***
Els watched her go, praying she’d be safe. He wished one of his cousins was here to share in his excitement. That lovely lass whom he so loved had made three things possible.
They knew John was still alive and well.
She could lead them to him, if necessary.
He was about to take part in a battle with King Robert the Bruce, without his cousins, but he felt no fear. Although he did not fully understand why it had abated, he thought part of the answer was Joya—being with her soothed him, and she was so fearless and brave, she made him more so. She made him forget those staring eyes and the emptiness it had made him feel. She made him look toward the future instead.
He followed her as far as he could, hiding in the periphery of the woods and watching for anyone who might bother her, but since she was once again disguised as a decrepit old woman, hunched over and dressed in rags, he wasn’t too worried. When she made it back into the English camp, she was immediately led by two guards into an area he couldn’t see, so he returned to Loch Trool, hiking back into the forest. He waited under the stars, creeping back to the English camp once to see if he could spy on Joya, but all was quiet.
He prayed she was with John.
Bruce’s men hastened to organize the ambush and prepare the men for the fight to come.
Derric gave Els instructions on where he wished for him to wait,
moving him in with a larger group of swordsmen. “You’ll go in the front group. You’re one of our best, and we wish to do as much damage as possible from the outset.”
Pleased with the compliment, Els hoped it meant he was finally past his fear. He would need to be to support his country. And so he settled into his position, hidden in a copse of trees—a perfect spot for an ambush—and waited.
They waited and waited forever, the sun nearly at its highest point when the sounds in the distance finally began to change. Peeking out, he saw nearly five hundred men, if he were to guess, making their way stealthily toward them, a few on horseback, many archers, and a slew of swordsmen in the middle. Joya must have done her job well.
They looked as if they were going to a festival instead of a skirmish. In fact, they had the same look John had whenever he tried to sneak up on someone and scare them. That smug look that meant their victims had no idea what was about to happen.
Only they weren’t going to take anyone by surprise.
As soon as the English group passed their front line, the Scots screamed their battle cries and emerged from their hiding spots along the path by the loch. King Robert grabbed the bow and arrow from an archer standing next to him, nocked and fired, hitting the leader of the enemy group. The Englishmen were so surprised by the fall of their leader and the number of Scots that many of them turned around and ran, just like the churlish bastards they were. But the Scots followed, King Robert carrying the banner.
Els approached two men, swinging his sword. One opponent struck back, and their swords locked in the air for a moment, but Els quickly overpowered him. His weapon sliced the man’s shoulder, marking it with blood, and the soldier promptly dropped his sword and ran.
Els had never seen such a thing. The second man came toward him, offering a half-hearted offense, but when Els struck back with all his might, he raced after his companion.
It wasn’t more than a few moments later that the shouts of success went up among the Scots, the English all running yellow-bellied back toward Ayrshire.
The cheers were so loud Els couldn’t hear himself chuckle. And while the win felt good, especially because there were few wounded dotting the landscape, he had work to do. He made his way back to Derric and said, “Well-planned ambush, but I must go after your sister.”
Derric clasped his shoulder and said, “Many thanks for watching over her.”
Els started to walk away, but then stopped and turned back “Since her sire’s dead, I’ll ask you. Do I have your blessing to ask her to be my wife when this is finished?”
Derric broke into a wide smile. “You surely do. Godspeed to both of you.”
That put a smile on his face for the rest of his trek back to the English camp.
Chapter Sixteen
Joya shuffled all the way back to the camp where she’d last seen Rollo. No one approached her, but she heard the sound of men running through the trees. The sentries had likely gone to fetch Rollo. Indeed, she hadn’t made it much farther when he greeted her. “You saw the Bruce? Is he there?”
“Am I to tell you or the earl?”
“You will tell me everything, then you will be taken to Ayr. Since you are the only woman here, we need you to care for that laddie for a couple of days. No questions asked. Understood?”
Joya nodded, her heart skipping a beat at the two parts of his explanation that pleased her. The first was that she would be able to get away before they attacked the Bruce, which would make it less likely she’d be discovered. The second was that she’d be allowed to care for John.
“What did you see?” Rollo persisted, his arms crossed in front of him.
She thought carefully before she began her tale. “I stepped into the middle of the forest and saw no one, but I waited. Eventually four men came to me and told me to go on my way. I told them what you and the earl advised me to say, that I was hungry and desperate for some food.”
“Did you see any others?”
“There were more in the bushes, but they never came out to speak with me. One of them gave me an oatcake, then a tall man with dark hair whom I thought to be the leader came out and asked me several questions.”
“Go on,” he prodded.
“He wanted to know where I came from and if I’d seen any men gathering anywhere.”
“And you said? Speak up!”
“I said I hadn’t seen any large groups since leaving Ayr and that the burgh appeared nearly deserted when I left.”
“What else did you see? You must have seen more. Any horses?” Rollo began to tap his foot, obviously impatient, but she wouldn’t be rushed for fear she’d make a mistake.
“I didn’t see anything, but then the oddest thing happened. I heard someone retching. The dark-haired man tried to hurry me away, but then I heard someone else retching. Retching and moaning. That’s what I heard mostly.”
Rollo’s face lit up at this revelation. “They’re sick. Wonderful.” He waved his hand toward two men behind him, who hurried off. “This will be a perfect time to attack. Now, if you do a good job in Ayr, we’ll give you two gold coins.”
She knew this to be a bold lie, but she kept that thought to herself. She didn’t need the coin, just a wee laddie named John Alexander Grant.
The two men Rollo had sent away returned on horseback, leading a third horse. One of them dismounted and tossed her up onto the third one.
Rollo scowled at her. “They will follow you if you try to go off on your own.” Then he turned to his men. “You will deliver her to the sheriff within two hours, and you are not to touch her until this mission is completed. Understood? If she runs away, kill her. We can always find another.” After giving Joya another scathing look she hadn’t earned, he departed.
She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking the foremost question in her mind.
Which sheriff?
***
The wait was intolerable.
It was the end of the second day and they’d still heard nothing from Els or from Grant Castle. Alasdair was going to lose his mind if something didn’t happen soon. His wound was healing, and he seemed to have escaped the fever, but the pain in his leg continued.
But that leg pain was inconsequential compared to the pain in his heart whenever he thought about his son. Even worse was the suffering of his sweet Emmalin, who’d taken to cuddling Ailith constantly, and he couldn’t fault her. He wished to do the same with both of them.
The door flew open, and Gaufried raced over to where they sat by the hearth. “Visitors from Grant land. About one hundred if I were to guess.”
Dyna came in from outside and said, “Alasdair, you need to come outside to witness this.”
Emmalin gave Ailith a squeeze before handing her to Bessie with a reluctant sigh. Alasdair grabbed a shawl for her, arranged it over her shoulders, and they stepped outside together, hand in hand. Gaufried had already assigned ten guards to protect the entrance to the keep.
On their way across the courtyard, Alasdair squeezed Emmalin’s hand, hoping they would finally get some good news. When they arrived at the curtain wall, he moved his hand to her back and ushered her up the staircase so they could see what the guards saw. Dyna followed them. Together, the three of them peered out over MacLintock land on the other side of the moat, the scene such that Alasdair wrapped his arms around Emmalin. In the front of the Grant warriors, resplendent in their red plaids, rode Alick, holding the Grant banner high as he approached.
But next to him?
Nothing could have prepared Alasdair for the vision of his grandfather riding his own horse again. He hadn’t done it in a while, though he’d attempted many times. He sat tall, his pride in his Grant warriors evident in his posture as he came across the bridge behind Alick.
“Oh, Alasdair,” Emmalin said, giving him her first real smile in days. “Your grandsire looks wonderful. They must have an idea on how to do this exchange.”
He turned to Dyna and said, “He’s not going. We have a plan.
I’ll pretend I’m Grandpapa and get my own son back.”
Dyna smirked at him. “I’ll let you argue that with him. See how it goes. Have you noticed who else is along? It took me a moment because my gaze was fixed on Grandsire.”
Alasdair turned around and stared, unable to believe his eyes. “God’s teeth. I’d never have believed it. ’Tis Uncle Jamie and Aunt Gracie, and Aunt Kyla and Uncle Finlay.”
“Aye,” Dyna said, “which means Papa must be in charge of Grant Castle.”
“Are you sad he did not come?”
Dyna shook her head. “Nay, Els has had a rough time of it. ’Twill be good for him to have his parents nearby. And I know Aunt Kyla. Think you she wouldn’t come if Grandsire is planning on going after John?”
The three headed down the steps and waited for the horses to enter once the portcullis was raised. “I’ll be right back, Em,” Alasdair said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll help Grandsire down.” He hurried over to his side and said, “Grandpapa, I’ll help you.”
“Stand back. I can get down on my own.” His bark came out so loud, Alasdair nearly jumped. He stood back, but not too far, waiting to see if he could indeed make it. To his surprise, he did, looking much more agile than he had in a long time. When he stood on his feet, he grinned at Alasdair and said, “All my practicing has paid off.”
“But why, Grandpapa? How long have you been practicing?”
“A few months. I had one of my dreams and a certain someone warned me I needed to prepare myself for unexpected travel.” He winked at Emmalin and said, “A wise man always listens to his wife.”
Uncle Jamie helped Aunt Gracie down and said, “I hope you have plenty of food. We traveled quickly once we received the message and had naught more than apples and oatcakes. Alick and I are starving.”
Uncle Finlay said, “Don’t forget me.”
“Aye,” Emmalin said, “We always have plenty. Welcome to MacLintock Castle. Come inside and take the chill off your bones.”
The group made their way through the courtyard, the mood a bit more somber than usual due to the situation. Bessie bustled about inside, giving instructions to the serving lasses. Alasdair put more wood on the hearth, and Aunt Gracie quickly found Ailith and picked her up in her arms, settling in front of the fire.
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