by B. J. Scott
Robert stroked his beard and cocked his head to one side. “Is that so?”
“Dinna pay Alasdair’s ramblings any mind. I never sleep before a major battle—especially when I don’t know the details. I’d hope to speak with you after the evening meal, but was told you had retired early.”
“I was taken aback by the news about Alex and Thomas and needed some time alone. Like most Scots, this war has taken a huge toll on my family. In addition to losing three brothers—God bless them—” Obviously choked with emotion, Robert lowered his head and crossed his heart. “My sisters, wife, and daughter are being held prisoners by the English. Now that I’m back in Scotland, I’ll not rest easy until they are released.”
Bryce sat on the log beside Alasdair and lowered his voice as he addressed Robert. “Your return to the mainland was a supposed to be a secret, yet you attacked the English at Clatteringshaw, alerting Aymer de Valance to your presence. Would it not have been a better plan to sneak in unannounced, establish yourself in Carrick, and then launch your attack?”
“Mayhap. But after Methven, de Valance chased me across Scotland, then hounded me relentlessly on the Isle of Arran, boasting to all that he had me on the run like a frightened rabbit. By launching our attack, we showed those sympathetic to the cause that I am indeed ready to resume my role as king. His failed attempt to strike back at Glen Tool proved we’ll not be easily defeated again. Offers of alliances and support from the clans are mounting.”
“That may be, but do you think it wise to tarry in one spot for too long? The MacDougalls are no doubt headed to Turnberry as we speak, and the Earl of Pembroke canna be far behind.” Bryce understood the reason Robert needed to make a stand, but he also knew first hand how determined his enemy was to stop him.
“Our departure must be timed perfectly or it will appear as though I am running scared and not prepared to fight. This camp is strategically situated and well guarded. There are spies in the village, along the routes leading to Turnberry, and the surrounding area.”
“Robert spent many months preparing for his return,” Alasdair interjected. “Given you’ll be leaving for Fraser Castle in the morning, you’ve nothing to worry about.”
Robert cocked a brow. “You are leaving?”
“Damnation, Alasdair. I’m not going anywhere.” Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his brother. “Why is it you canna listen for once, instead of trying to dictate? I’ll be joining Robert’s forces when he confronts de Valance. My mind is set and I won’t discuss this with you again.”
Alasdair sprang to his feet and towered over Bryce. “You’re injured. I’ll not have time to watch your back or coddle you.”
“My wound is almost healed.” Frustrated beyond control, he lurched forward. As a show of strength, he shoved Alasdair, causing him to stumble backward. He glared down at his brother, sitting in the dirt with a look of shock on his face. “I dinna need a nursemaid, and if I do, I’ll find one who is qualified.”
Robert stepped between them. “Save your anger for the battlefield. Bryce is a grown man. Best you allow him to decide for himself, Alasdair. I need every able-bodied warrior I can get.”
Bryce faced Robert. “When do we depart, and where will we make our stand?” The sooner he honored his commitment to the cause, the sooner he could check to make sure Fallon was safe. A mix of guilt and trepidation tugged at his belly. He had no solid reason to think otherwise, yet something in his gut told him she could be in danger.
While he did not want to lead her on or give her false hope that there could someday be a relationship between them, he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her and he had not been there to stop it. Or mayhap he was destined to habitually let people down when they needed him the most?
“We leave two days hence. Loudon Hill is situated in the heart of my earldom, and the perfect place to wait for de Valance’s attack. This time, he’s in for a surprise.” Robert paused. “Are you listening to me, Bryce, or woolgathering?”
Bryce shook his head, his thoughts returning to the issue at hand. “How do you know he’ll fall for your trap?”
“He’s too pompous to ignore an open invitation to fight. Longshanks charged de Valance with thwarting the Scottish rebellion. If he wishes to remain in good favor with his king, he’ll not decline a challenge he believes he’ll win. With any luck, the MacDougalls will join him. I’ll have my revenge for Dahl Righ and the deaths of my brothers.”
Alasdair stood, stretched, then yawned. “I’m on guard duty in a few hours so need to get some sleep. Best you do the same, little brother.”
“I’m not tired.” Bryce tossed more wood on the burning pile. He was still annoyed with Alasdair, but his temper had cooled to a simmer. “You get some rest, and I’ll take your watch. There’s no point in both of us being awake all night.”
Alasdair nodded and left. Robert accompanied him.
Alone with his musings, Bryce tugged a length of plaid around his shoulders and moved closer to the fire. Like the Bruce, he relished the idea of facing Dungal MacDougall again. If only he could be certain Fallon was safe.
“Do you think she’s a faerie? If we catch her, she must grant us a wish.”
Fallon shifted her position, and struggled to open heavy-lidded eyes. She shivered, her clothes damp from the dense morning dew. Rays of sunlight filtered through the treetops, caressing her cheeks. She inclined her head toward the welcomed warmth.
“She moved,” someone squealed.
Fallon sat up with a start. This was not a dream. Two young lads stood a few feet a way, the eldest wielding a wooden sword. Her heart in her throat from the sudden fright, she studied the two young men as they returned her questioning stare.
The older lad puffed out his chest and stepped forward, shielding his younger companion. “This is Kennedy land. You’re trespassing. Dinna try any tricks, Faerie, or I’ll not hesitate to run you through.”
“I’ll get Da.” The younger lad raced off, disappearing over a nearby ridge.
“I was on my way to the coast, but got lost when night fell. I thought it best to wait until morning to resume my journey. I had no idea where I was, let alone on Kennedy land.” Fallon stood and brushed the leaves from her skirt. “If you please, I’ll be off.”
“Stop, Faerie! You’re not going anywhere until my brother returns with our da. I’ll warn you, he dinna take kindly to uninvited visitors on our land.” He pointed his toy weapon at her chest.
“I’m not a faerie.” Fallon fought the urge to laugh at the lad’s bravado, but she was not certain she relished the idea of meeting his father. What if he was an ally to the MacDougalls, or worse, a minion of the English king? Many of the borderland castles were now controlled by Edward’s men. Would he hold her prisoner and wait for Dungal to come and claim her?
The lad quickly scanned the area. “Are you alone?”
“Aye.” Fallon sat on a tree stump. “No one is with me.” She warily watched the lad, waiting for him to drop his guard, at which point, she intended to make a dash for the woods. Surely she could outrun a bairn.
He studied her for a moment before he spoke again. “The coast is too far a venture on foot. Where’s your horse?”
“I have no mount, so I must be off if I wish to reach my destination.” Fallon rose.
“Over here!” The younger lad returned and stumbled to a halt beside his brother. Winded, he doubled over and gasped for air.
A robust man with pleasing features crested the hill and joined the lads. “Who are you, and how did you come to be in the forest without an escort?”
Too late to escape, but still uncertain if he was a friend to the MacDougalls or a supporter of the Bruce, Fallon chose not to answer. The burr in his voice was definitely Scottish, but that didn’t mean anything in a country torn apart by war and upheaval.
He narrowed his eyes and planted his hands on his hips. “Well, what have you to say for yourself?”
Deciding it might b
e better to respond than to risk his wrath, she cleared her throat and answered. “As I explained to the lad, I was on my way to Turnberry, but when the sun set, I found myself disoriented, so decided to rest here.” She pointed to the rocks where she’d spent the night. She provided no more information about herself or her destination than was necessary. Hopefully it was enough to satisfy his curiosity and he’d let her be on her way.
“The village is at least a full day’s hard ride. To walk would take you a close to a sennight. In addition, for a lass to travel alone is far too dangerous. You’re lucky my sons found you, and not thieves, scoundrels, or the English. I canna believe you slept in the woods alone.”
“There was no choice.” Fallon wrung her hands, her eyes downcast. “I have an important missive to deliver to a friend and there was no one to accompany me.”
“I am heading to Turnberry today. If you wish, you may ride along with me and my men. Does this friend of yours have a name?”
Fallon shook her head and backed away. “I appreciate the generous offer, but I dinna know you, and it is best I travel alone. It would not be proper for me to be seen in the company of strangers.” While it sounded like a weak excuse, especially since she was traveling unescorted, it was the first thing that came to mind.
“John Kennedy.” He bowed. “I am laird of Clan Kennedy and father to these two fine lads.” He placed a hand on each of the boys’ shoulders and smiled. “I am more concerned about your welfare than I am appearances. I promise to escort you safely to your destination. You have nothing to fear.”
“My uncle, Douglas MacCrery, has mentioned the Kennedy Clan’s contributions to the Scottish cause.”
“I know your uncle well, and am proud to call him a friend. I am surprised he allows you to make this journey alone.”
Fallon lowered her head and crossed herself. “My uncle is dead.” She choked back a sob.
John looked puzzled. “Dead? I saw him in Turnberry little more than a fortnight ago, and he was as spry and ornery as ever.”
“He was branded a traitor for aiding a Scottish patriot following an attack at Loch Ryan and hanged by Dungal MacDougall.”
John cursed and slammed his fist against a nearby tree trunk. “The day that bastard meets his end canna come too soon. It’s bad enough he opposes the Bruce’s claim to the throne, but his clan’s traitorous acts of aggression against their fellow Scots and their affiliation with the English is inexcusable.”
The older lad waved his wooden sword in the air. “Let me at him, Da. I’ll teach the MacDougalls a lesson they’ll not forget.”
“I think your mam would have something to say about that idea. You’ve only seen ten summers and have more growing to do before you go off to do battle.” He patted the pouting lad’s head then looked at Fallon. “My offer to see you to Turnberry stands.”
Judging by his comments, John’s loyalty lay with Robert the Bruce. With his help, she might be able to reach Bryce and warn him before Dungal arrived. It was now clear that if she continued on foot, she didn’t have a prayer. “I am grateful for your kindness and will accompany you.”
“A wise decision. First, we must return to the castle.” John turned and headed down the path.
Fallon followed. Finding it difficult to keep up with his long strides, she scrambled to stay in step. They exited the forest. In the distance stood the Kennedy stronghold, an impressive castle surrounded by a moat and high stone curtain wall.
John slowed, allowing Fallon to catch up. “This is one of only a few lowland castles that have not fallen under Longshanks’ rule. The English took over most of the coastal holdings, including Turnberry Castle, the former home and birthplace of King Robert.”
Her empty stomach rumbled and the heat of a blush rose in her cheeks.
“Along with your lack of a mount, I noticed you carry no supplies.”
“I had no time to gather any. I left with the clothes on my back and nothing more.” She glanced down at her wrinkled attire then ran her fingers through her windblown hair.
“We can break our fast before we depart, and I’ll ask my wife to fetch you a clean gown. Are you able to ride?”
Fallon squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Aye, I learned to sit a horse when I was but five summers and ride as well as any man. Some say I have a way with horses.”
“Good. The journey takes us over some very rough terrain. To reach our destination before nightfall we must move quickly. While honorable, I have no doubt my men will find a comely lass distracting. I dinna want to contend with temptation if we are forced to make camp for the night.” He resumed his trek toward the keep.
As they neared the drawbridge, a brawny warrior with graying hair stepped out of the shadows, blocking the entrance to the castle. “The wee laddie claimed he and his brother found a faerie in the woods.” He peered at Fallon, then threw back his head and laughed. “Is this her? She dinna appear fae to me. With her dirt-smudged face and tattered clothes she looks more like a homeless waif.”
Consumed by embarrassment, heat rose in her cheeks. She smoothed her hands down the front of her soiled skirt. “I must look a fright, but have been traveling since yesterday.”
“The lass can wash up before we leave for Turnberry,” John informed the sentry.
“You’re not thinking of taking her along, are you? She will only slow us down. We are going to meet—” The older man stopped speaking when John raised his hand.
“Enough. She is welcome to go with us, but must keep up the pace. After we’ve eaten, we’ll be on our way.” John moved through the castle gate. Fallon tagged along.
They crossed the bailey and despite the murmurs and stares of the crofters milling about, Fallon held her head high. They entered the keep and a stunning woman with titian hair greeted them.
“This lovely lady is my wife, Lillian.” John took the woman’s hand and kissed it. “Fallon will be accompanying us to Turnberry. But she will need to change her clothes before we break our fast.”
Lillian smiled. “I would be very happy to help.” She placed her hand on Fallon’s forearm. “Come with me, I’ll show you where you can clean up. I’m sure I have something that will fit.”
John gave a curt nod, turned, then left them alone so they could tend to Fallon’s needs.
Grateful for their kindness, she welcomed the offer of a clean gown, the chance to wash her face, and to comb her hair. A bowl of porridge and tankard of ale never tasted so good. Refreshed and her needs sated, she anxiously awaited their departure. The quicker they got to Turnberry, the sooner she’d see Bryce.
Despite the grumbling and wayward glances, none of the Kennedy warriors openly voiced their objection to taking a woman on the trip. Astride a black destrier and looking every bit a leader, John wore a padded linen gambeson, leather gauntlets, and hauberk of mail.
“If you plan to join us, lass, best you mount.” John pointed to a palfrey tethered to a post. “Her name is Sage and like most woman has a mind of her own and needs a firm hand.”
Fallon pulled herself into the saddle with ease then dug in her heels, prompting the spirited animal to lunge forward.
They rode nonstop for hours, covering many grueling miles before the sun dropped to just above the horizon and twilight’s shadows crept across the path.
John slowed his horse to a walk and twisted in his saddle to face her. “You’ve done well, Fallon, but you must be getting tired and hungry.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. Her legs were numb, her back ached, and her stomach had been growling for the last two hours. “Will we reach Turnberry before dark?” Her pulse sped up at the thought of seeing Bryce.
“If we maintain the pace, we should arrive within the hour. You failed to tell me the reason for this urgent trip. It must be very important to risk your life.”
Fallon chewed on her bottom lip. “Why do you journey to the coast with one hundred heavy horse and armed men?” she countered.
“I’ll be joining with
other Scottish forces in an endeavor to drive out the English. We will take you to the edge of the village, but you must complete the last part of the journey alone.”
“The Bruce is not in Turnberry?”
“I dinna mention King Robert.” John frowned.
“There was no need to say his name. I am aware of his return to Scotland and need to speak with him on a matter of great importance.”
“Is he the friend you spoke of?”
“Nay.” Fallon shook her head. “But the missive I need to deliver involves the king.”
John reined in his horse. With a wave of his arm, he motioned for the men to halt. “Mayhap you should explain yourself, m’lady. Out of respect for your uncle, I dinna push the issue, other than to ask your name, when we were at my keep. Mainly because I believed you were going to Turnberry to meet a friend and it had nothing to do with Robert. Now that you have revealed the reason you travel, I refuse to take you any further without full disclosure. I’ll not put the king in jeopardy.”
Fallon swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her heart pounded as she tried to decide what to do. She had already said too much.
Dare she tell him the rest?
Her uncle warned her that the MacDougalls were not the only Scottish clan who refused to endorse or accept Robert the Bruce’s claim to the throne. For that reason, he told her to trust no one and not to reveal her secret to anyone but the King. True to his word, Laird Kennedy had seen her safely to Turnberry. He’d also declared his loyalty to the Bruce.
“I’m waiting.” John drummed his fingers on the pommel of his saddle.
“Until recently, I lived with my uncle in his croft near Loch Ryan. While hunting, he and his companions found a wounded man following the MacDougall raid on the Bruce’s brothers. Everyone else was dead. What he dinna know was that the man he rescued and I were acquainted. I’m a healer and he needed my help.”
