Vienna held her palm over her heart, as she oft did just before a dizzy spell came on. “I cannot journey all the way to the frozen north, no matter what social standing you wish us to enjoy. You know my health is delicate.”
Juliette’s booming voice rose above her father’s footsteps. “The far north is much too cold for poor Vienna. You cannot possibly send such a delicate flower that far afield. I won’t let you, Father.”
Both his wife and Juliette rushed to pacify his youngest, but Vienna pushed them aside. “Visit? Tis all we must do, Father? Really? Are you sure about that?” For someone about to have a fainting fit, Vienna seemed surprisingly sturdy on her feet. “Visit for how long?” she asked.
Before he had a chance to respond, Juliette’s berating began again. “Why would our king, or any king for that matter, want two maiden English ladies to visit a heathen Highlander?”
Their pecking was making Godwin’s head throb. “Quiet, you three. You’re bringing on one of my thumpers.”
But Juliette wouldn’t be deterred. She rushed to the window, the one that overlooked his deer fields. “If this Laird is important to both kings, he must be a most important man indeed.”
Godwin gripped the sides of his head. “This man, this friend of the Scot’s king, is Tam. He saved the life of the Scottish king’s daughter. Enough,” he said clutching himself. “The details aren’t important.”
“Which daughter?” His wife always chose the most inane questions to ask.
Godwin scowled. “Does it matter?”
“How long must we visit him, Pa?”
His throat was parched from talking so much, and his stomach howled in hunger. “For as long as it takes,” he bit back.
“For as long as what takes?” Vienna looked troubled, clearly not believing this to be a simple mission of charity.
Godwin grabbed the servant bell and rang. “Where’s Standing? He’s never around when I need him. Where are honey cakes or freshly risen white bread dripping in honey? Before I can say another word, I need them all.”
Juliette ran to the heavy door and forced it open, her exasperation giving her strength, “Standing,” she yelled into the empty hallway, “Where are you?”
Then, turning back to face her family, she said, “What is the point of this silly visit anyway?”
The manservant popped out of nowhere.
Juliette belted out her father’s instructions. “Standing, please bring a tray for Pa. He wants ale and honey cake and a fresh wedge of bread. You must hurry.”
Standing bowed and was gone.
Mollified that food and drink was not far away, Godwin resigned himself to more inquisition. “Must there always be a point? Can’t two pretty, English maidens with much time on their hands and naught to do all day but moan at their dear father, visit a Scotsman in need? Think of it as charity work.”
Both girls tutted at him and looked thoroughly distrustful.
“Very well.” Godwin rubbed his twisted fingers over his stubbly chin. “The Scots King Alexander wishes to make this Tam a Laird or an Earl or something important, as a way of thanking him for saving his daughter’s life. But first, this Tam character must be pulled out of his doldrums and made cheery and pleasant to be around again.”
Vienna blinked her large saucer eyes, once, twice, then three times. “This Scotsman fellow, Tam, doesn’t sound like a nice person to be around. I’ll bet he doesn’t want us to visit any more than we want to go.”
Godwin shrugged as if the Scotsman’s wishes were neither here nor there. “Mayhap he doesn’t.”
Standing knocked and entered, and then placed his tray near Juliette. Juliette let the manservant slink away without serving his Lord first. That girl was soft around the servants. No wonder they all favoured her over her dear old Pa.
“What else do you know?” Vienna snatched the bowl containing honey cakes and held them under her father’s nose. Her meaning was clear. Her dear, starving Pa was not getting a single crumb until he told every, last word of his story.
“Very well,” he said, smelling the sweetness of the honey. “I believe that this Scotsman, Tam, is a wee bit of a hermit.”
“A hermit?”
“He’s grieving and hiding himself away, tis all. The king wants Tam to hurry up and get over his loss and black temper, so he can be of use to the king again. When it comes to killing, those Scots have the knack of it. I believe this Tam character was the King’s most gruesome, bloodthirsty killer, the best of them all. He would rather kill than talk. No wonder Alexander wants him back.”
The girls took a moment, for they had much to digest. Juliette was the first to recover. “This black-tempered, violent hermit, does he have reason to be angry?”
Godwin ran his tongue over his dry lips and imagined the feel of the cool ale against the back of his throat. “Yea, that’s the strength of it. You see, while this Tam character was busily saving the king’s daughter, his own wife was slain. There, now pass the honey cakes, and let that be the end of your meddling questions.”
Juliette tilted her head. “Are you sure we’re only being sent to his home to cheer him up? Is that the full truth?”
Vienna hid the honey cakes behind her back. “I hope we’re not being dangled before him like bait on a hook. Mayhap both kings wish to entice him into another marriage.”
Godwin shook his head, then thought better of lying. Lying never worked anyway. His daughters always caught him out. “I’m told that Tam likes quiet, timid women. So there.”
He sank deeper into thought. In his opinion, both kings had made a terrible error in judgement with their fancy thinking that his two youngest daughters were capable of tempting a war lord out of a black hole. If this Tam character thought he was miserable now, just wait till his daughters arrived!
“Give me a blasted honey cake.”
Juliette tore a honey cake in half and placed one bit on her father’s knee. He gulped it down in one swallow.
“Father, you really are sending us to the top of Scotland in the hope that this angry hermit, a women hater by all accounts, will wish to wed one of us, aren’t you?”
Godwin glared at his middle daughter. “Fat chance of that happening. The man will hate the both of you—guaranteed. Why, every comely, polite, respectful Scots girl, that both kings can find, has not managed to win his affection thus far. So, dear daughters, what hope do you two have? Answer me that. Now, pass the rest of the cakes.”
Juliette dumped the contents of the bowl onto her father’s knee.
“Okay,” she said, “so once we are rejected by this grumpy warlord, we’ll be allowed to wed an English nobleman of our own choosing?”
Godwin nodded, and the crumbs flew from his mouth. “That be the strength of it.”
Juliette turned to her younger sister, and together they seemed to enjoy a quiet smile.
Godwin closed his eyes a moment. He prayed that this simple act of sending both daughters to Scotland would not be deemed the first move in another war with Scotland. Battles had been fought over less. The last thing he wanted was to go to war against the loathsome, blood-lusting warriors of the North. Yes, war must be avoided at all costs. Yet he couldn’t shake the notion that this visitation was a step in the entirely wrong direction.
Chapter 2
Scottish Highlands
Tam listened to his manservant, Jock, take small, shuffled steps. It would be yuletide before the aged serf reached the great hall, and another age again before he reached his laird’s ear. Tam prayed that whatever the dour codger had to say would be worth his trembling journey across the bailey courtyard.
Mayhap rats had gotten into their grain stores again, or worse still, Tulloch Castle was on its last keg of ale. Nay, it was most likely naught, nothing but more gossip and grumbles about the ca
stle steward. Who got on with the steward Arnold and his wife anyway? It was the steward’s scratchy, attacking cat that Tam hated most. Arnold was nothing compared to that devilish feline.
That was the moment, the exact moment, Tam realised he was getting better. Even just a few weeks hence, he would not have cared if every stone wall in Tulloch Castle crumbled to the floor or if Arnold’s cat scratched his body to bits. Now, he cared.
At last, Jock, the manservant was at the great hall doorway, rapping his bony knuckles against the wood.
Tam decided to save him from more splinters. “Come in, my man, and tell me what you have to say.”
Jock fought his way forward, but once within the hall, he stared about with a blank face, as if he’d never seen the grand hall afore. Clearly, Jock’s reason for being here had slipped his mind. Jock stood a while, scratching his head. Then, as if congratulations were in order, he said, “Aye, I do remember what it was now.”
“Out with it then. Quick, before you forget again.”
“Right. Tis about our king.”
Tam shot upright. “Don’t tell me he’s on his way? I don’t have the stomach for the King’s meddling today, nor another of his uplifting talks.”
Jock tilted his head to the side, as if struggling to decide something.
Did the message about the king fall into the category of meddling or uplifting? And suddenly, there was no time left for Jock to ponder the problem.
He and Jock turned and glared at the hall door. Tam recognized the rush and blustering sounds in the hallway. That ruckus meant that the king and his men-at-arms were fast approaching. Since King Alexander of the great Scots nation had discovered the tunnel that connected his own royal Dingwall Castle with the much-smaller Tulloch Castle, there was no keeping him from Tam’s home.
The door burst forth with a flourish. King Alexander swept in, gold and purple robes trailing with the leaves in the breeze.
Tam bowed. “Your Highness.”
Jock bowed lower still, and when he finally stood, he muttered in Tam’s direction, “I’ve remembered what the message was now. The King is coming.” Then he bowed again and slunk toward the door.
Tam and the king rolled their eyes. “Tam, you cannot run a castle, albeit a small one like Tulloch, with such decrepit staff.”
Tam raised his eyebrows. This small holding was one of many that belonged to and was staffed by Royal Dingwall Castle, the king’s household. The staff members at Tulloch were part of the king’s staff, and they were the king’s eldest serving domestics. Tulloch was run by the king’s loyal servants, men and women who had been with the king since he was naught but a wee royal lad. But it would not do to correct the king.
“Well, Sire, as I have said oft enough in the past few months, make me Laird of somewhere else, and I shall hand pick my own servants and build a grand castle in your name.”
“And as I have oft said, Tam, as soon as you are healed, I intend to make you one of the most important Lairds in all of Scotland, if not the most important of all.” The king shooed his bodyguards from the room, ushering them out to join the servants in the hallway.
Tam closed his eyes. “I am not a patient man, Your Highness. I grow weary awaiting the honour.”
The king thrust his hands into his sleeves and paced about, eventually making his way to the window. It had snowed all morn, and now the powder white rested upon the heather, pretty as a picture.
“I am also tired of waiting for your illness to pass, Tam, and yet I still harbour feelings of guilt. If you had not saved my Marjorie, your wife would be alive today.”
Tam turned away, not liking his failings recounted aloud. They’d had this very conversation many times afore, and as always, the king was determined.
“You will not waste your life, Tam, wallowing in guilt. You must not be scarred from this loss. Tis time to move on.”
Tam clapped his hands together. “Well then, I have good news for us both. I am better. All healed and just like new again.”
Tam rushed across the rug, flaunting his good health, and his restlessness too. “My broken heart is all mended, and I am ready to kill for my country again. Please, Your Highness, send me off somewhere volatile, so I may execute a great many Englishmen, or Norsemen, even. I do not mind where they come from.”
The king smiled. “So formal today, Tam. You may call me Alex when we are alone. I have known you all your life. You are kin to me.”
“Fine. Alex, please. Give me land and men, and I shall do you proud.”
The king pinched his lips together.
“Action and distraction, tis all I need now, and then I’ll be completely recovered,” Tam added.
“Mayhap you are right. But the thing is, Tam, your fearful reputation precedes you. I cannot send you out there as a mere shell of your former self. You will be carved to pieces. Our enemies expect you to slice through a small army and still be wanting more. Nay, I cannot send you out unprepared. That would be no way to thank you for saving my precious daughter’s life.”
Tam straightened his back. “Give me a chance. Tis all I ask.”
The king drew in a deep breath. “Perhaps I will. Because you, Tam, know better than most, the grave perils we Scots face in our time.”
Aye, Tam thought, he knew because he’d heard his king bleat on about the troublesome Norsemen oft enough. How could he forget? But mayhap this was his chance. Mustering as much strength and valour into his voice as he could, he said, “The most important matter facing us now is an invasion from Norway. We must drive the Norse influence form the Western Isles of Scotland.” He hoped his little speech hadn’t sounded like he was mimicking the king because that is exactly what he’d just done.
The king’s face flushed. “So, we must! I will not rest until the Norsemen are gone and Scotland and all her islands are under my command.”
Tam started to visualize his new sword and freshly hammered battle axe. “Let me lead the charge, Your Highness. I shall not rest until I have driven every, last Viking from the Orkney and Shetland Isles.”
The king licked his lips. “I should like you to lead the charge, Tam. I’d like it very much. But first, I need to be reassured that you are the Tam-of-old—the strategic thinker who won many battles in my name, and yet got very few of my fighters killed. The Tam-of-old knew when to fight and when to retreat.”
Tam stared forward, wary of saying something that would turn the king against him. He was suddenly desperate to leave Tulloch Castle and fight again, regardless of the consequence.
“The Tam-of-old, the Tam I wish for, had a wife and dreamed of a son. He had much to live for and did not run off to war harbouring a secret desire to be killed. The Tam-of-old did not wish to die, so he might join his wife in heaven.”
Tam shook his head in denial but silently wondered at his king’s ability to read the situation so well.
“Sit, Tam, please. We have something delicate to discuss this day.”
Tam’s face fell. He’d heard his king use that phrase afore, and it was always regarding matchmaking. “Sire, please, I do not wish to marry again. I failed the first wife I had, so, you see, I am no good at being a married man. I am a much better warrior.”
The king collected his flowing robes, pulling them to one side, and sat. “Yet, I’ve never seen you happier, nor more successful than when you were wed to Helena.”
Tam winced at the mention of her name. “I will be a more ruthless fighter now—a fighter that has nothing left to lose.”
The king shook his head. “I have plenty of those already. You know what, my friend? My best leaders are all married. The young unwed warriors fight harder, true enough, but invariably they find themselves dead within the year. And then I must begin training more fighters all over again. Nay, I wish you to live longer and prosper on my behalf
.”
Tam rested his head in his hands. “I do not need another wife, Sire. Nor do I want one. Wives and marriages end in heartache.”
The king patted him on the back. “But you do want to be a laird of your own land again, do you not?”
“You know I do.”
“Well then, this is what we shall settle on. You will host the two young maidens coming to visit you on the morrow. Do not shy away. No more hiding in your room.”
Tam could only stare ahead at the gabled ceiling and blackened boards, knowing that the horror of what his king proposed was showing on his face.
The king carried on regardless. “I wish you to take one of the maidens as wife. If they really are not to your liking, then I suppose I could wed them off to McKay and Duff. I will hear your opinion first.”
Tam was too disturbed to respond.
“Come, my friend, you know how much I value your opinion. Watch these maidens carefully. You are to tell me which one would suit you.”
The king slapped him on the back again. “I insist you give the two maidens your full attention. I expect to hear back from you once the visit is over. A full report, mind.”
Tam smelled a rat. “How long is this visit to last, Sire?”
“I expect you to vet these young women properly. And for that reason, the two young ladies will stay here for two hundred days.”
Tam felt his eyes bulge. “Tis over half a year. But that is an eternity, Sire. You cannot be serious? After the first sennight, I will be ready to drive them both from the castle. After the second sennight, I shall have my sword at their throats.”
The king lowered his voice. “That will not happen, Tam. You will not insult the English king, so you must look out for the maidens and keep them safe. You can do it.”
Thistles and Thieves Page 2
