Rise of a Legend (Guardian of Scotland Book 1)

by Amy Jarecki

“Is that not why I brought Scotland under my rule?” King Edward leaned forward on his elbow. “Aside from the acquisition of trade and lands, those miserable sheep are dispensable. Put them in the front line.”

  With a rap, the door opened and Edward’s valet strode inside. “Sir Ormsby has arrived with news from Scone, Your Grace.”

  Edward gripped the armrest of his throne. “The question is what is Ormsby doing in London and not at his post in Scone?”

  The valet bowed. “If I may show him in, I’m certain you’ll find his story diverting.”

  Glancing at Norfolk, Edward rolled his hand through the air. “Mayhap you should alert the headsman.”

  The knight entered dressed for battle, carrying his helm cradled in the crux of his arm. His beard did nothing to hide the man’s frown or the fear in his eyes.

  Edward let him squirm for a moment while he scrutinized the man. Ormsby had been reasonably useful last spring when they sacked Berwick and Dunbar. “Well out with it, sir. Why in God’s name are you not holding my castle at Scone?”

  The man shivered to his boots. “Sacked, Your Grace.”

  Edward’s fingers itched to issue the cur a well-deserved slap. “Sacked? Then why are you standing before me unscathed?”

  “I-I was able to spirit away—with the aid of my men.”

  “How fortunate for you. But you managed to lose my stronghold in the interim?”

  “There is an uprising underway, led by a vassal of the people. A great behemoth of a man.”

  Edward’s shoulders tensed. God, he hated imbeciles. “One man? And who is this giant?”

  “William Wallace. He killed my unarmed cleric in cold blood…a-and only a handful of my men managed to escape his capture.”

  “You witnessed this murder of your cleric?” Raising an eyebrow, the king picked beneath his fingernail.

  “No, Your Grace, but it was reported to me in Roxburgh.” Ormsby bowed. “En route to inform you, sire.”

  “You sniveling maggot.” Edward threw up his hands. “You cannot manage to keep the miserable Scottish heathens in line? Those people are the outcasts of society. How could you have allowed them to gain the upper hand in Scone?”

  “I—”

  Lord Warenne cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Your Grace, but as I recall, William Wallace is also the same scoundrel who killed Sir Heselrig in Lanark.”

  “You mean to tell me, we’ve allowed a murderer to run loose up there? Of all the lawlessness. Why has he not yet been arrested and made an example of?”

  “He’s enormous s-sire,” Ormsby stuttered. “Seven feet tall and twenty-six stone.”

  “And my greatest lords to the north are afraid of Goliath?” Edward slammed his fist onto the board. “King David killed that Philistine with a pebble.”

  Sir Ormsby bowed his dull-witted head. “Forgive me, Your Grace.”

  “Perhaps ’tis time we crush this Wallace once and for all.” Edward looked toward John de Warenne, the most trusted man in his court. “Surrey, I shall assign the Earl of Cornwall with mustering new recruits for Flanders. You shall depart for Scotland at once and put an end to this petty uprising.”

  Lord Warenne stood and bowed. “We shall ride at dawn.”

  Another rap came at the door and the valet stepped inside. “Your Grace, a missive has arrived from Mr. Cressingham on the northern border.”

  Edward beckoned the valet with his fingers whilst eyeing Warenne. “You may as well wait for the news, John. At least my treasurer has the sense to send a missive rather than travel all the way to London to bring word himself.”

  After reading, Edward folded the vellum and placed it on the board. “It appears all the nobles of Scotland need to be reminded as to who is suzerain over their miserable country. I thought Robert Bruce, William Douglas and James Stewart were securely under my thumb, but Cressingham reports they’ve caused a skirmish in Irvine, which I might add was swiftly quelled by Lords Percy and Clifford.”

  “’Tis grave, indeed,” said Lord Norfolk.

  “Not too terribly concerning.” Edward twisted the garnet ring on his finger. “Warenne, you’d best collect Lord Percy and Lord Clifford on your journey north. Clearly they have demonstrated the ability to stop the uprising with their victory at Irvine.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Warenne bowed.

  “Appeal to those Scottish nobles who have pledged their fealty and remind them their lands will be forfeit on both sides of the border if they so much as hint at refusing my call to arms.” Edward panned his gaze across the faces of his councilmen. “Meanwhile I shall continue to focus on more important battles to secure my holdings in France.”

  ***

  By the time the news arrived of the Scottish noble’s failure in Irvine in early July, William and his men had Perth under Scottish control. But his army’s success did nothing to quell his ire. The only color William could see was red. He balled the missive in his fist and ground his teeth. “Bloody backstabbers sought terms from the English rather than stand and fight.”

  “Is it about Irvine?” Eva asked from her seat at the table in the hall at Scone.

  He slapped the missive down. “God’s bones, woman. How did ye ken?”

  She heaved a huge sigh. “By now you ought to know I am not a seer.”

  For the love of everything holy, he needed to hit something. Hard. “If ye kent, then why couldna ye have told me about this? ’Tis the lowest blow to a man’s character.”

  Her face turned bright red. “What would you have done if I’d told you?”

  “I would have ridden like hellfire to fight beside them.”

  “Right, and I would have been taken from your life for good before I had a chance to utter the words. Regardless, the outcome would have been no different. You know as well as I that I can do nothing to change the unraveling of history. I can only share things that will not affect your true story.”

  He kicked a chair leg. “Then what good are ye to me?”

  Eva turned her face away with an exasperated cough.

  “Och.” His heart clamped tight as a rock. “Forgive me. It didn’t come out the way I’d meant it.”

  “I know.” She stood and pulled her medallion out from under her shift. “This is my gauge. It heats up against my skin when I’m beginning to let a little too much out of the bag. When I was about to tell Heselrig your name, I was flung back to my time—remember? If I say anything that will change the past—I mean your future, I will be taken away, and I have no idea if I’ll be able to come back.”

  He spread his palms to his sides. “But ye came back once before.”

  “Only because I prostrated myself in the Fail ruins in the midst of a storm and begged.”

  William grasped the medallion and rubbed it between his fingers. “It feels like a lump of bronze to me.”

  “Same as it does to me most of the time.”

  “Dunna distract me with trinkets.” He let it drop back to Eva’s chest. The last thing he needed was to have his mind run amuck. “I cannot believe both Wishart and Stewart backstabbed me thus. ’Tis contemptible. Blast them. How in God’s name am I to stage a rebellion if the nobles undermine my every move?”

  She tucked her medallion back inside her bodice. “They have their sights set on fattening their coffers as well as their holdings of land.”

  “That they do.” William jammed his fists into his hips. “Their avarice exceeds all reason.”

  “But you’ve said yourself that is why you were chosen to lead the rebels. Because you are a second son with no title, no lands, nothing but your sword and your psalter. You have nothing to lose.”

  “I have everything to lose.” His heartbeat thrummed beneath his skin. “The freedom of my people is more precious than all the gold in Christendom. That is what I am fighting for.”

  She crossed her arms. “So you will go burn Wishart’s home?”

  “Och aye, now ye can tell me what I will do, yet you canna say what will be done against me?
Ye are a vixen.” William stood and strapped on his sword. “I will ride this verra night and rain down vengeance on those who choose to supplant me. It would be one thing if they had succeeded, but now they sit in the company of Percy and Clifford negotiating for lands? The shite-eating dogs would sell their own mothers to increase their wealth.”

  Eva watched him from under her thick red eyelashes. God’s teeth, she could be maddening with her secrets.

  “What else do ye know that ye’re not telling me?” he groused.

  “Wishart’s ‘nephews’ are really his sons.”

  “I already kent he’d gone against his oath of celibacy. He’s not only a backstabber, he’s a blasphemer and a hypocrite.”

  “Possibly.” Eva tapped her toe. “And when you return, there will be a reply from Andrew Murray. I hope you will have recovered from that sore head of yours, because not all news is bad.”

  “Ye’ll not be cosseting me this night. The only news that would pull the dagger from my heart would be to see King John restored to his throne.” William turned on his heel and headed for Little, Blair and the stables.

  ***

  Wallace refused to allow thoughts of Eva to cloud his mind as he thundered south to Wishart’s manor at Ancrum. Why in God’s name didn’t she warn him about the backstabbing nobles in Irvine? Only stopping to rest the horses, William and his men rode tirelessly.

  The blood boiling beneath his skin propelled him forward. No man could grow tired when cast aside and used as thresh on the floor like Wishart and Stewart had done. To send a man to rain havoc across the country and then to undermine him? Worse, to fail at their pathetic attempt to make a stand and then to submit to the English?

  Wishart deserves every moment he spends in Roxburgh gaol.

  Though it was midday when they arrived, the sky was dark with heavy clouds, and rain pelted from the sky.

  William turned to Little and Blair. “A nobleman would never fight in a squall such as this, but I say, nothing will stop men of the earth. We were born to work, to trudge through the mire and harvest the crops, and we will stand for what is right regardless of the tempest.”

  “I say we burn the rafters,” Blair said.

  William sliced his hand through the air. “I didna bring the whole army because I aim to make a point. My quarrel is with Wishart. We’ll not burn him out this day. There are Scottish servants depending on the living he provides.” William leaned in. “But I will take his silver and his children.”

  “Children?” Blair asked.

  “The two lads he calls nephews.”

  “Bloody miserable hypocrite. He’s a bishop for the love of God.”

  William chuckled. “Mayhap he’ll answer for all his sins when he comes to collect the lads.”

  Ahead, two guards huddled under the archway of the portcullis, holding their hands out to a brazier stocked with burning peat.

  Little slipped behind one and Blair the other, swiftly disarming them.

  William stepped out from the side of the outer bailey wall. “We mean no harm to any Scottish subjects.”

  “Ye’re Wallace are ye not?” asked one.

  “I am.”

  The other nodded. “We’ll not stand in your way.”

  It didn’t surprise William to meet with no resistance. He gestured to his men. “Take all the silver ye can carry.” Then he bounded up the stairwell, exiting at the third floor passageway. He opened and slammed doors until he found the lads. The eldest, Paden’s hands shook as he pointed a dirk at Wallace, shielding the younger with his body.

  Holding up his palms, William stepped inside. “Och, Paden. Lay down your arms. I’ve no intention of hurting ye or Adam.”

  The lad paid him no mind, shaking his damned dirk. “Aye? Then why have ye entered my uncle’s home by force?”

  William removed his helm and sat in a chair by the hearth—though not once did he shift his gaze away from the armed lad. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Mayhap if I explain from my viewpoint. Your da asked me to lead a rebellion, and after a successful battle where I reclaimed the city of Scone for Scotland, your da rode off with a number of nobles and led an uprising in Irvine.” William leaned forward. “Where he not only deserted me, he undermined the verra authority he granted my army from the outset.”

  Adam sniffed. “But he’s been captured.”

  “Aye, and imprisoned in Roxburgh,” William added. “Which means someone needs to foster ye lads until he’s released.”

  Adam peeked out from behind his brother. “Will we ever see him again?”

  “Wheesht,” Paden admonished, his voice cracking.

  Again William sat back. “Who kens how long the English will hold him. But in the interim, the pair of ye will learn to be men serving Scotland.”

  “Ye mean for us to fight?” Adam asked, his eyes round as coins.

  William held up his two-handed sword. “Are ye skilled with a weapon such as this?”

  The lad shook his head rapidly. “Naaaaay. B-but I can shoot arrows as good as Paden.”

  The elder brother elbowed the lad. “Now ye’re telling tall tales.”

  Adam rubbed his arm. “Ow.”

  “I’ll tell ye what. Ye’ll go with me this day and join the greatest army Scotland has ever seen. Ye’ll work with my commanders. I’ll say it will not be easy labor either, but I will look after ye until your father is released.”

  Paden tipped up his aristocratic chin. “What if we refuse to go?”

  “Then I’ll hogtie ye and throw ye over the back of my horse like a sack of oats.”

  Adam gaped. “Ye wouldna do that?”

  “Och aye, I would.” William tightened his grip on his hilt. “Your da backstabbed me for certain, but I aim to make sure ye two lads ken the meaning of honor afore ye reach your majority. Ye can choose to come along peaceably or I’ll force ye. But ye’ve no business hiding here with no one to teach ye how to be a man.”

  “What if I try to kill ye while ye’re sleeping?” Paden asked.

  “Well, then.” William stood, grabbed the lad by the wrist and disarmed him. “That would be the last mistake ye’d ever make.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Out of necessity, Eva had taken charge of the tower house in Scone until a Scottish sheriff was appointed. The locals showed their gratefulness by providing an abundance of food and allowing William’s army to camp in their fields and barns.

  But today her jaw dropped when William walked into the hall and introduced her to Paden and Adam—Wishart’s nephews who were fourteen and eleven. Leaving the boys standing in the center of the hall, she pulled William into the alcove that led to the kitchens. “What the hell were you thinking, kidnapping a bishop’s sons and forcing them to join your army?”

  He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “They need to learn to become men.”

  “With swords in their hands? What if one of them is killed?”

  “Och, ye ken I willna allow that to happen.”

  “Right.” She thwacked his beefy shoulder. “Just like you did with Lachlan.”

  He threw his hands to his sides. “I canna believe ye are bringing that up. Lachlan’s death was an accident.”

  “Aye? And these boys won’t meet the same end?”

  “Not if ye’re looking after them.” He leaned in.

  “Me? So you expect me to be their babysitter—” Eva jutted her face toward his. “I mean nursemaid?”

  “These lads no longer need a nursemaid, but with their father imprisoned in Roxburgh, they need someone to teach them about honor and obedience.”

  Eva pursed her lips. “Don’t they have another relative to foster them?”

  “Aye, but I dunna trust any kin of Robert Wishart—not after he deceived me in Irvine.”

  “And so you aim to take these younglings and mold them to your way of thinking?”

  “What better way? There’s an enormous void between the minds of the gentry and the minds of the
commoner in this country. Mayhap when they return to their home, they will have a greater appreciation for the common good.”

  Christ, the man does have to make sense.

  She glanced over at the two lads, standing in the center of the hall, bonnets in hand. They could have been orphans by the forlorn looks on their faces. Then she remembered the history books mentioned that William looted Wishart’s home and took his children, though she couldn’t recall anything ever being said about what he did with them. Great.

  Holding up her palms, she eyed him. “I will not be saddled with these boys alone. I fully expect you to assign them with work, just as you’ve done with Robbie—and that work had better be something guaranteed to keep them from harm.”

  “Aye, Miss Eva.” William bowed deeply. “And my thanks.”

  She pointed at his sternum. “You owe me.”

  “Och aye?” He waggled his spiteful eyebrows. “I’d be more than happy to deliver on that promise above stairs this eve.”

  She groaned, forcing herself not to giggle. “You are incorrigible.”

  He gave her a pat on the behind. “And ye are irresistible.”

  She thwacked him on the arm as she headed to the lads. Lord knew babysitting wasn’t one of her strong points. “I hope you came ready to work, young men.”

  “Us?” Paden asked with an adolescent voice that had just started to change.

  Eva picked up his hand and turned it over. Just as she’d thought, the boy had no calluses. “There will be no sitting on your laurels waiting for servants to wipe your…” She looked at Adam. “Noses.”

  Paden threw back his shoulders. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Good, because I have enough to worry about.”

  “Ye’ll help Miss Eva and Brother Bartholomew,” William said. “And if ye cause trouble, ye’ll answer to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Paden. Evidently, William had already instilled the fear of God into them.

  “But when do we shoot arrows?” Adam asked.

  Eva tensed. “You will not be touching a bow within five miles of the enemy.”

  “Miss Eva speaks true.” William placed his hand on the youngest lad’s shoulder. “Ye can train with the men if there’s no threat. Meanwhile, Sir Edward Little and Father John Blair need squires. Robbie Boyd will take ye under his wing and show ye the ropes.”