by Emma Prince
“What?” Logan exclaimed, moving to her side. At the same moment, Niall closed the distance between them, clasping her hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
She faced her brother. “I didnae ken his name, but I recognized his face. He was one of the demons haunting me in my sleep, even all these years later,” she said quietly.
Returning her attention to the Bruce, she took a fortifying breath. “I…I went after Bruin—both to stop him from firing the village, and to end his ability to hurt other innocents.”
The Bruce’s frown deepened. “I can understand why ye’d want vengeance, Mairin, and to protect the innocents of Pontefract’s village, but why didnae at least one of ye stay with Lancaster?”
“I should have, sire,” Niall said, straightening under the Bruce’s watchful scowl. “But I chose to remain with Mairin. I couldn’t allow her to face such danger on her own.”
Logan made a startled noise at that, his eyes flashing with surprise and then respect as his gaze fixed on Niall.
“Niall saved the villagers and put out the fires Bruin had already started,” Mairin hastily said. “And I…I killed Bruin.”
She ducked her head under the Bruce’s penetrating stare. “While we were in the village, Lancaster set out from the castle. We went to the cave to send ye our final missive with news of Lancaster’s retreat, but we were caught in a snow storm. We were forced to remain there for the night.”
“But ye sought to catch up to Lancaster after that?” the Bruce asked cautiously.
“Aye,” Mairin replied quickly. “We set out the next morn. It took two days, but we reached him just as he’d begun to engage with Harclay’s army.”
“We couldn’t stop Lancaster from attempting to cross the river, despite the odds against him,” Niall said grimly. “And we didn’t protect him from being captured by Harclay. We will face whatever punishment you deem fit for failing our mission.”
The Bruce considered Niall’s words for a long moment. He tapped a finger over his mouth. “How can I explain things?” he murmured, more to himself than to them.
At last, he fixed his gaze on them again. “In truth, yer mission was completed—successfully—the moment ye sent that final missive regarding Lancaster’s move toward Dunstanburgh. Mayhap even before then, when ye sent word of his utter failure against Edward’s army at Burton Bridge.”
Niall caught Mairin’s gaze, his brows lowered in confusion. All she could do was give a single shake of her head, for she was just as bewildered as he.
“The problem was, I had no way of getting word to ye that ye could stand down,” the Bruce continued. “Logan was supposed to find ye before the battle began at Boroughbridge, but it seems ye werenae there.”
Logan quickly apprised the King of Mairin and Niall’s capture after the short-lived battle, their removal to Pontefract along with Lancaster and his co-conspirators, and how he’d broken them out of the dungeon the night before they were to face judgement with the others.
The Bruce exhaled. “Thank God for Harclay’s knowledge of Pontefract Castle, else ye would have had to resort to more…overt means to regain them. And that would have destroyed my entire scheme.”
“And what the hell is yer scheme?” Mairin blurted. She sucked in a breath, willing the insolent words back into her mouth, but they’d already escaped. How could she have spoken to her King like that? “Sire, I—”
To her shock, a slow smile cracked the Bruce’s lips behind his beard. “Ye two have more than earned an explanation of the plot in which ye so effectively played a part.”
The King settled into his chair as if he were cozying up to a fire with a beloved book. “I’ll have to go back many years to explain, though.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“It began when Lancaster first sought an alliance with me some eight years past, no’ long after Edward’s failure at the Battle of Bannockburn,” the Bruce said. “He wished to rally the nobles against Edward and usurp the throne for himself—with my help.”
Mairin blinked in surprise. She hadn’t realized how far back the Bruce’s entanglement with Lancaster went. She glanced at Niall. His brows had risen as he waited for the Bruce to continue.
He steepled his hands in front of him as he went on. “I cared little for the man even then, for he was arrogant and fickle, but after I learned he’d hired bounty hunters to kill his bastard-born son and the lad’s mother—John and Isolda, whom I’d sent Ansel Sutherland to protect—I couldn’t swallow the prospect of an alliance, even a strategically useful one, with the man. But—” He held up a finger. “I allowed him to believe that I was still open to joining with him against Edward.”
Of course he had. Mairin knew the Bruce was a shrewd strategist, but it seemed that she hardly understood even the most basic of his many schemes.
“No’ long after I discovered Lancaster’s treachery,” the Bruce continued, “I attempted to siege Carlisle Castle to strengthen my position and challenge Edward’s control over Northern England. I failed.”
“I remember that,” Niall murmured. “It was a shock to all those in the Borderlands, for even though you weren’t ultimately successful, King Edward never once offered his aid to Carlisle. We knew then that we along the border were on our own.”
“Indeed,” the Bruce said with a nod. “Despite Edward’s complete desertion of the borders, Carlisle Castle managed to stand against me—thanks to the shrewd maneuvering of its warden.”
“Andrew Harclay,” Mairin breathed.
The Bruce nodded. “But my siege against the castle wasnae a complete failure, for I was able to capture Harclay. If I could not own Carlisle, I reasoned, I would own the man who controlled it. Ostensibly, I held Harclay for ransom, collecting two thousand marks for his safe return. But of course my true motives were far more devious than that,” he said with a wolfish grin.
“Did he carry some information you wished to possess?” Niall asked.
“Quite the opposite—I wanted him to bear information that I possessed,” the Bruce replied. “I showed him the treasonous missives Lancaster had sent me, asking me to join him against Edward.”
Mairin frowned, sorting the pieces in her head. “Harclay was loyal to Edward,” she said slowly. “But he must have grown frustrated at being abandoned to face Scottish sieges on his own. By giving him information on Lancaster’s treason, ye put him in an impossible situation.”
“Aye,” the Bruce said, the grin still lingering on his lips. “Harclay was disturbed by Lancaster’s traitorous actions, but he also feared the Earl, for he was the second most powerful man in all of England, behind only the King himself. He didn’t wish to cross Lancaster by going straight to Edward with news of Lancaster’s treason. But if he didn’t inform Edward, he would appear to be in league with Lancaster, or at least sympathetic to him.”
“Which gave you leverage over both Lancaster and Harclay,” Niall said, his brows winging.
“Exactly.” The Bruce leaned back into his chair. “But I only needed one English nobleman in my pocket. Hence yer mission. Lancaster’s rebellion was indeed useful to me—it bought us many months of peace as the English squabbled amongst themselves. Had Lancaster succeeded, I retained his vow to cease England’s war on Scotland. But if he failed…”
“Ye needed a contingency, someone else who could remain close to Edward, but who was also under yer influence,” Mairin said. “Someone like Harclay.”
“You were playing both sides all along,” Niall murmured.
“Ye see, the two of ye were only half of the equation,” the Bruce said, his voice tinged with sympathy. “Of course I couldnae tell ye that at first. I was playing two different games of chess at the same time, but Lancaster couldnae have found out about it. I feared I’d be putting ye in more danger if ye kenned all. Knowledge can be perilous. Sometimes ignorance is safer for all involved.”
Logan snorted at that. “Which is why ye didnae tell me any of this until after I sent my wee sister on th
is blasted mission.”
The Bruce raised a brow at him, but nodded in assent. “Ye’d never have allowed her to go into it blind if ye kenned everything, orders from yer King or nay. But I needed her skill with the messenger pigeons at my disposal. I couldnae have waited weeks for a missive from them when the situation was changing by the hour.”
The King turned back to Niall and Mairin. “Once ye were dispatched to guard and spy on Lancaster, I explained matters to Logan, then sent him to Harclay to serve the same function.”
“It was damn hard kenning I’d be leaving Helena for another few sennights, especially with her time drawing nigh,” Logan interjected quietly. “But I was desperate to get as close to ye as the King would allow, Little Bird, in case ye needed help.”
“Logan carried Lancaster’s treasonous missives with him in the event they needed to be deployed,” the Bruce continued.
“Archbishop Melton,” Mairin said, feeling her eyes widen on Logan. “Ye gave him those missives.”
“Aye,” Logan confirmed.
“I’d hoped Lancaster could have drawn out his rebellion longer,” the Bruce continued. “But after yer missive about his disastrous efforts at Burton Bridge, I kenned he wouldnae last more than a few sennights at most. So I sent word to Logan to encourage Harclay to move against Lancaster.”
“Harclay was eager to publicly prove his loyalty to Edward,” Logan commented, “despite—or mayhap because of—his secret dealings with Scotland.”
The Bruce nodded. “And only a day later, when I received word from ye two that Lancaster was retreating even farther north, I kenned it would be Harclay’s chance to quash the rebellion completely. He’d be a hero in Edward’s eyes. And unlike Lancaster, Harclay’s dealings with me remain unknown.”
“Apparently my…suggestion that Harclay use a shield wall to hold the bridge went unnoticed by Edward,” Logan said wryly. “Harclay certainly didnae mind using a Scottish tactic against his own countrymen.”
“Harclay seems verra open indeed to dealing with us,” the Bruce replied, lifting one brow. “It appears I’ve backed no’ only the stronger of the two men, but the smarter as well.”
“Then ye never truly planned on coming to Lancaster’s aid,” Mairin said cautiously. It had troubled her deeply to consider her honorable, worthy King entering an alliance with a man like Lancaster. “Ye werenae really going to lend him Scottish men and supplies.”
“God, nay,” the King huffed. “I was only biding my time to see which side would prevail—with Scotland’s interests foremost above all else.”
Mairin released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It had shaken her faith in her King, country, and most of all herself to consider the possibility that a tyrant like Lancaster had become an ally. A weight lifted from her heart to know that the Bruce had crafted his elaborate scheme with Scotland’s wellbeing and future at its center.
“The two of ye were supposed to remain safe,” the Bruce said, concern tinging his voice. “Logan was meant to find ye before the battle at Boroughbridge began in earnest, but as I ken now, ye werenae there. Ye were never meant to be caught up in the middle of things, nor imprisoned as suspected traitors. For that I offer my sincerest apologies.”
“Thank God I got to ye in time,” Logan said quietly. He turned to the Bruce and quickly relayed that Lancaster had been executed, and that Edward had ordered the deaths of several more of the rebellion’s leaders.
The Bruce let a long breath go. “Edward has regained control of his country, then. Which means we may have to brace for a fresh wave of attacks if he still thinks to carry out his father’s legacy as Hammer of the Scots.”
“Aye,” Logan said grimly. “But at least ye have Harclay under yer thumb. He was made Earl of Carlisle, and has earned a place in Edward’s good graces. He may be able to sway Edward away from another long, drawn-out war effort.”
“And if Edward continues to ignore his border, Harclay may be more open than ever to work directly with Scotland to ensure peace for his new earldom.” The Bruce smiled tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Christ, what webs I’ve woven.”
For a brief moment, Mairin glimpsed what a toll the Bruce’s tumultuous reign had taken on him. He’d been fighting for Scotland’s freedom for nearly twenty years, sometimes on the open field of combat, and others in these sorts of tangled machinations of strategy, willpower, and boldness.
The King lifted his hand from his weathered features to swipe it over his hair, which was more gray than russet now.
“I owe all three of ye much, but especially ye, Mairin, Niall,” he said, nodding to each of them. “I willnae forgive myself easily for putting two of my most trusted warriors in such a precarious position.”
Beside her, Niall stiffened. She had a strong suspicion about the emotions ricocheting through him at the Bruce’s words, for she felt them too—shock, followed quickly by a swell of pride.
“Then…” Niall began slowly. “You won’t punish us for failing to keep Lancaster alive.”
The Bruce gave them a wry look. “I think spending a night in Pontefract’s dungeon was punishment enough for yer transgression. Consider it time already served. The truth is, none of this would have been possible without ye. I am humbled and honored to call ye members of my Bodyguard Corps.”
Niall bowed deeply in response. Mairin followed suit, her throat clogging with emotion as she dropped into a low curtsy.
“Regarding another matter…” When Mairin rose, she found the Bruce’s dark eyes dancing with mischief. “Am I wrong in surmising that the two of ye forged a… special connection over the course of this mission?”
Logan frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Niall beat him to it.
“Aye,” he declared firmly. “Though truth be told, I loved Mairin even before we set out from the training camp.”
Mairin felt heat climb to her face, but she kept her chin lifted. “It took me a wee while longer to realize it, but I love him, too.”
The Bruce clapped his hands, a broad smile breaking on his face. “I’ve done it again, then!” he exclaimed. “And this time, I have paired no’ one but two members of my Corps through a mission. If we ever have a moment’s peace from England, I should become Scotland’s official matchmaker in addition to my duties as King.”
Mairin couldn’t help it. She giggled. It was a sound far too silly for a fierce warrior like her, but she didn’t care.
“Although,” the Bruce commented, frowning and tugging on his beard. “Mayhap I cannae take credit for this match. I had assumed Will Sinclair would accompany Mairin, given the fact that he is Scottish, and therefore more trustworthy in Logan’s eyes—no offence meant, Beaumore.”
“None taken, sire,” Niall replied dryly.
“Will and I share a friendship—naught more,” Mairin murmured. “Will’s match may be waiting for him somewhere. Mayhap he will find her someday. But for me, it has only ever been Niall.”
She cast him a shy glance. His eyes burned with love so fierce that she felt it all the way to her toes.
“And it has only ever been Mairin,” he replied softly. He tore his gaze from hers to face the Bruce once more.
“Then I suppose ye’ll want my blessing so that the two of ye can be wed,” the Bruce said.
The air whooshed from her lungs. “Aye,” she breathed, her eyes locking with Niall’s once more. “I suppose we do.”
“Granted.” The Bruce rose from his chair and stepped down from the dais. He strode straight to Mairin, plucking up her hand and bending over it gallantly. Before Mairin could even find her wits to curtsy again, the Bruce turned to Niall and clasped forearms with him in a hearty shake.
“I hope both of ye will remain in my Corps—after ye take some time for a honeymoon, of course.”
“Aye,” Mairin said again, stunned. She could hardly believe this turn of events. She’d once thought herself cursed to struggle, to suffer, to merely survive for the rest of her life. But now
she was being given a chance at so much more. True happiness. Love. Marriage. And the promise of the life she’d worked so hard for in the Corps.
“It seems we are to be brothers, English,” Logan said, eyeing Niall. Grudgingly, he extended his hand, yet Mairin didn’t miss the way his gaze turned solemn. “I ken I will never be able to make amends for what I put yer family through, but—”
“But mayhap we can put the past behind us and start fresh,” Niall finished, taking Logan’s hand.
“I will be forever in yer debt for keeping Mairin safe,” Logan murmured, gripping Niall’s arm firmly.
Niall’s bright eyes slid to Mairin then. “Nay, I think not, for I only reminded her a time or two how strong she already is.”
Mairin’s throat clogged with emotion. A grin itched at the corners of Logan’s mouth. “Good answer, English. No’ that ye need it, but ye have my blessing to remind her of that every day for the rest of yer lives.”
At that, Mairin hesitated. She couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her days with Niall, but where would their happy future be built? Her heart, which had only a moment before been soaring, stilled now.
“I hope after we are wed, we can go back to the training camp,” she said, searching Niall’s face. “It is where I feel strongest, and most myself. But I would understand if ye didnae wish to make a permanent home in Scotland when ye—”
“There is no question,” he said firmly, cutting her off. “We will return to the training camp.”
“Are ye certain?”
He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “I have fallen in love with Scotland just as surely as I’ve fallen in love with you, Mairin. I already consider it my home. Now I want to start a life with you here.”
“It is settled then,” the King declared. “Though ye may find the camp rather quiet after all yer adventures of late. There havenae been any new recruits since ye joined, Mairin, and with Will returned to his family’s keep—” he nodded at Logan, who must have shared the news with the Bruce about the passing of Will’s father “—there are only a handful of ye left there.”
