The Promise of Peace

by Carol Umberger

  That at least got a smile of approval from her father.

  Adam strode toward a large man in chain mail whose dark hair glistened in the sun.

  “Welcome, Adam!” the man shouted. He clasped Adam about the shoulders. “’Tis good to see you, brother.” The men had fostered together, as well as fought together for Bruce. Both turned to Nola. “And this is . . . this can’t be your daughter? Grown already?”

  Adam grinned. “Aye. Nola, this is the Earl of Homelea, Bryan Mackintosh. Nola is our oldest. And this is Keifer Macnab, your newest student.”

  Sir Bryan looked Keifer up and down and said, “Welcome to all of you. There is still some time before the midday meal will be ready, so allow me to show you the improvements I’ve made.” He offered his arm to Nola, and Keifer saw her blush as she accepted. As Sir Bryan walked them around the grounds, he treated Nola as if she were visiting royalty. Keifer thought he would very much enjoy serving such a man.

  Adam said, “I see little evidence of the destruction Homelea sustained.”

  “Well, I was very, very careful when I dismantled it.”

  They smiled at a secret obviously shared, and Keifer hoped to hear the whole story one day soon. They stepped inside the main hall where trestles were set up and serving girls scurried to set out food and drink.

  “Please sit down and help yourself. Lady Nola, I will give you over to young Keifer’s care while Adam and I talk.”

  Nola sat next to Keifer, and the two older men moved off to await Sir Bryan’s wife.

  ADAM SAT where Bryan indicated and accepted food and drink from a servant. He drank the cool water, grateful to wash the dust from his throat.

  Bryan broke off a piece of bread and handed the rest to Adam. “The boy looks capable—built strong. I understand Seamus has been training him. Why not let him finish the job?”

  “Seamus has done well—I think you’ll be impressed with Keifer’s abilities. But there is some bad blood in the family—our king took the Macnab lands away from Angus and his son for their support of England. ’Tis my understanding that Angus has come to terms with this but that Owyn Macnab considers the land and title his. Keifer may have to fight to keep it, and his sister wants him to be prepared.”

  “I see. Seamus can teach him to fight well enough, but Morrigan wants him to have the additional skills of a knight.”

  “Aye. That and the contacts he’ll make—you and the king among them—will give him allies he can call upon if need be.”

  “I’m anxious to see him with a sword. You will stay a few days and watch him train, won’t you?”

  “Aye. I have no desire to climb back in the saddle for a time.”

  Bryan nodded. “I thought you might feel that way. Stay as long as you like. You and I can catch up on news. We were unable to attend Morrigan and Fergus’s wedding. Did you go?”

  “No, ’twas too long a trip from Moy. They have a son and another child on the way. From what I’ve heard, they are doing well.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Fergus is a good man, and perfect for Morrigan.” Bryan looked over at Keifer and Nola. “Your daughter will soon be of marriageable age. Hard to believe the time has gone so quickly. Seems like just last week you and I arrived here and beat down Kathryn’s door.”

  “Aye, so it does. Nola is twelve, thirteen soon, and yes, I’ve started thinking about her future. I’ve a mind to betroth her to young Will Macpherson.”

  “An excellent way to strengthen that alliance. Always a wise thing to do.” Bryan watched Nola and Keifer again.

  Adam wondered what he saw that made him scowl.

  “How long has the boy been fostering with you?”

  “Six years. I think you’ll find Seamus has prepared him well.”

  “I have no doubt.” Bryan pointed his chin at the young people. “Those two have become good friends.”

  “Aye. As befits foster siblings, no?” Adam and Bryan had shared much over the years, and many’s the time he wished they lived closer to each other.

  “Nola may only be twelve, Adam, but I’d bet a fair amount of silver she doesn’t think of the boy as her brother.”

  “What? Has he done something to warrant—”

  “Calm down, the boy’s behavior has nothing to do with my observation. Nola wears her heart on her sleeve.”

  Adam considered this. “Then ’tis for the best that they be separated so she may consider other suitors.” He moved his goblet in circles on the table. “Mayhap Gwenyth was right.”

  “Oh?”

  “She mentioned the same thing not long ago. Aye, this separation will test them both. If God means it to be, it will survive this time apart and I’ll not stand in their way.”

  “Parenting isn’t easy, is it?”

  “No, it is not. How are your young ones doing?”

  Lady Kathryn walked into the hall, and Bryan stood and extended his hand to her. “Here’s just the person to answer your question.”

  All through the meal, as he listened to Kathryn and Bryan talk about their family, Adam stole glances at Nola and Keifer. The boy sat tall, a proper distance from Nola. She said something, and he leaned closer to answer her. She threw her head back and laughed, and Keifer’s smile held a definite fondness. Was it more?

  Nola placed her hand on Keifer’s arm in earnest conversation. Keifer listened, his gaze just shy of entranced. Nola, on the other hand, did not mask her fascination. The girl had a soft heart and never did disguise her feelings well. Though Adam stopped short of calling her affection for Keifer love, anyone could see that she held the boy close to her heart.

  Love? Or affection for a wounded soul? For Adam recognized the boy’s empty spot—the place where memories of his father belonged.

  Adam only hoped that he and Gwenyth had prepared the boy as thoroughly inside—as Seamus had outside—for adulthood. That Keifer would bloom under Bryan’s tutelage.

  Time would tell.

  SEVEN

  KEIFER WAITED FOR NOLA in his horse’s stall. Nola and her father would leave soon, and Keifer wanted a few minutes where their words could be private. He assured himself that he didn’t need her or anyone else, that he only wanted to give her something. But he dreaded her farewell.

  Any other time he would have heard her whistling or singing or chattering to the animals. But today she entered the barn so quietly he jumped when she lifted the latch on the stall door.

  She hesitated, and he pulled her into the stall and closed the door. Though her eyes were mirthless, she grinned at him. Then seeing his expression, her grin faded. “Why are you sad? You are getting what you always wanted.”

  “Aye. And you’ve had your adventure.”

  The horse walked over to see if Nola had a dried apple for him, but for once her hands and clothes were empty of such treats.

  “This trip to Moy? With my father as chaperone?” She pushed the horse’s nose away and the beast moved to the other side of the stall. “This does not count as an adventure. Not for me. But being here is what you always dreamed of, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, but I must leave all that is familiar once again. I don’t like good-byes. It seems like I am forever leaving or being left.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and one spilled down her cheek. “I don’t want to go. I would stay if I could.”

  He wiped away her tear with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Here. I have something for you.”

  “What?”

  He reached under his tunic and grasped the ribbon that held the key to his treasure box.

  She gasped when she saw it. “Why are you giving me the key? How will you open the box?”

  “I left it at Moy so that you can safeguard it for me.”

  “You left it behind?”

  “Aye.” He’d agonized over whether or not to bring his treasures with him. The things it held were childish mementos except for the laird’s ring. But he’d felt they would be safer in Nola’s care than here among strangers
.

  She stared at him and burst out laughing.

  “Why is that funny?” he demanded, hurt that she didn’t appreciate his trust.

  She reached into the pouch at her waist and pulled a knotted twist of wool from it. “I made this for you to keep in the box to remember me by.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well, I remembered mother telling us that before a tournament or battle, ladies would give their scarf or ribbon to the knight they favored. I knew that if I gave you such a thing, the other boys would tease you.” She held the knotted twine of wool out to him. “So I made this bracelet for you to put in the box where the others can’t chide you over it.”

  He took it, touched that she would think to do such a thing. He held it out to her and a tear escaped her left eye.

  “No, Nola. I’m not giving it back. Since I left the box in your care at Moy, I want you to tie this around my wrist.”

  She swiped away the tear. “You’ll wear it?”

  “Aye. I’m sure it will bring me luck, and I’m going to need plenty.” He swallowed hard. “And it will remind me of my ties to my family at Moy. Of you.”

  Nola took the bracelet and tied it to his outstretched wrist. “Does this mean you’ll wait for me?”

  That made him smile. “Wait for you?”

  She finished attaching the bracelet and took hold of his hand. “Aye. You said you would take me on an adventure, and I mean to hold you to it.”

  “I may not be able to fulfill that promise, Nola. What then?”

  “In that case, I suppose I may have to create my own adventure. I know I am only twelve, Keifer, and that we both will change by the time your training is over. I can’t promise my heart, nor will I ask you to. But could we at least promise not to marry anyone else until we’ve spoken to each other again?”

  She sounded much older and wiser than her years, and as always, her heart shone in her eyes. This child would be a woman and he a man grown when next they met. He feared they would change, affections going elsewhere. But he could not tell her so now, for he could not bear to break her tender heart.

  “You know of my pledge not to marry, Nola. I cannot ask you to wait for me.”

  “You may change your mind.”

  He shook his head.

  “If you do, then remember this promise.”

  “All right. That promise I can make. I promise not to give my heart to another until I speak again with you. Are you satisfied?”

  She nodded. “I better go. Da will be waiting.”

  “I’ll walk with you, but this must be our good-bye. I don’t want . . .”

  He drew in a breath to steady his voice. A man training to be a knight did not cry.

  “I know. I absolutely do not want to cry in front of my father!”

  He pulled her close and, without a second thought, pressed his lips to her upturned face. But a buss on the cheek didn’t satisfy, and he moved to kiss her lips. He’d never kissed a girl before, and he delighted in the soft way her lips yielded, molded, to his mouth.

  She put her arms around his neck and clung tightly. She hadn’t done that the time he’d caught her kissing Will Macpherson. Aye, this kiss was not the kiss of a friend, and Keifer was honor bound to end it before they promised too much to each other.

  He pulled away and looked down into her face. Her eyes seemed a bit unfocused and he grinned, amused that he’d had such an effect on her. But he reminded himself she was an untried girl who might read too much into the kiss. It was time to part. “You are a minx, Nola Mackintosh.” His smile faded. “And I shall miss you terribly.”

  “And I you.”

  “Come. We’ve sealed our vow and said our good-bye with a proper kiss. I don’t want your father to come looking for us.”

  They walked out of the stable and across the bailey to where her father stood with their horses. Keifer and Nola didn’t dare look at each other.

  “There you are, Nola. We were getting concerned.” But Keifer could tell from his foster father’s face that he understood and was not angry.

  Adam grasped Keifer’s hand. “We will expect to hear good reports about you, Son.”

  Keifer, not sure he could trust his voice, nodded. Adam turned to mount, leaving Keifer to assist Nola. He walked over to her and expected her to face the animal so Keifer could help her. Instead she leaped toward him, throwing herself into his arms. He pulled her close and buried his face in her untamable hair. Before he set her down, he said, “Off with you now. Don’t ever change, wild one.”

  With a determined nod of her head so familiar and dear, she drew a deep breath. He cupped his hands together and offered them for her to place her foot in them. She did so, and with a lift from him, swung her leg over the horse. He arranged her riding skirt to cover her leg while she settled her feet into the stirrups and tugged the other side of the skirt into place.

  Reluctantly he removed his hand from her calf and watched her gather the reins in her gloved hands. Amid the calling of good-byes from Sir Bryan and his family, Nola and her father set off. With a final wave, they trotted out the gate.

  Keifer wondered if he would ever smile again. Abandoned over and over again—Da, Gordon, Morrigan, his mother, Ceallach. It didn’t matter that he had wanted this. Heart ruled over head in this matter. And it didn’t matter that Nola left unwillingly. Their forced separation seemed the cruelest blow of all.

  Macpherson Castle at Inversie 1323

  NOLA OPENED THE SHUTTERS on the nursery’s only window and stared out at the bright, sunny day. She held Mary Macpherson in her arms, and though she loved the child dearly, Nola would have much rather been outdoors. She spent a good deal of her time in this room at Inversie, not only because Suisan asked her to, but also because Will didn’t frequent the place.

  Mary squirmed and Nola set her down. The little girl toddled off to her box of playthings.

  The door opened and Suisan came into the room. She cast an approving eye around the tidy room and at her happy child. “You are a godsend, Nola. I don’t know what I’d have done these last two years without you to help with Mary.”

  “I’ve enjoyed it, Lady Suisan.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, most of it.”

  “When Mary goes down for her nap, come to the solar and we’ll have your harp lesson.”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  Nola played with Mary until the child became cranky, and then they sat in the rocking chair until the little one fell asleep. Nola rocked a while longer and looked upon the angelic face. Despite her longing for travel and adventure, something about the feel of a child in her arms let her know that she would enjoy being a mother some day.

  Nola laid the sleeping toddler in her bed and pulled a soft blanket over the swaddled form. Then Nola went into the solar where Suisan kept her harp. The rosewood gleamed in a beam of sunlight that shone through the narrow window of the west wall.

  Suisan sat behind the harp and ran her fingers across the strings, adjusting them as needed to ensure all were in tune. When she was satisfied, she played a slow, haunting melody. Nola loved to listen to the older woman play. Lady Suisan’s face transformed as the music settled over them, as if it soothed her weariness.

  When she finished, she rose and indicated that Nola should take her place.

  Nola did so, settling her skirts. “I don’t think I will ever coax such beautiful music from this instrument, my lady.”

  “You may, in time.”

  But Nola doubted it, almost hoped that she would never play music that spoke so eloquently of loss and longing. She wondered what made the lady so sad and dared to probe. “Mother says you were to marry my da, but you changed your mind.”

  “Aye. And though I regret the callow girl I was who deserted Adam when he needed me, still, I have found love with William and I am content.”

  “Have you ever left the glen?”

  “Never.”

  “Did you ever want to?”

  Suisan pondered for a moment. “Perh
aps long ago. But as I said, I am content with my life as it is.”

  Nola thought of her own longing to see what the outside world had to offer. She doubted she could be content like Suisan if her dream never came true. Nola was more determined than ever to travel before she settled down to marriage and babies. Not that there was anything wrong with marriage and children, she just wanted something grand to look back on.

  Nola played the harp, choosing lively music that spoke of nuances and texture and excitement. For that is how she planned to spend her own life.

  IN THE DAYS AFTER KEIFER ARRIVED at Homelea, he had little time to miss Nola, despite the reminder of her “favor” on his wrist. Though he doubted that Uncle Angus still harbored ill will toward him, Morrigan had insisted that Keifer use his mother’s family name of MacTaggert. So that is how he introduced himself to the only other boy who was to train with Keifer. Donel was a tall, sullen young man with dull blond hair who kept to himself unless he was playing a practical joke.

  For the next two years Keifer’s days began before sunrise with feeding and grooming his horse. After chapel and breaking his fast, he learned how to ride a war horse. Seamus could not have taught him this because there were no such large animals at Moy. The beasts required quantities of grain and hay that were not readily available in the highlands.

  Sir Bryan was certainly a wealthy man, for he had three such horses. Two were used for schooling the squires. The third was the knight’s personal war horse, trained to allow only Bryan to mount it.

  The beast was magnificent—the son of the horse Bryan had ridden when he conquered Homelea and married its mistress.

  Keifer had mixed feelings about the beasts. He’d long heard the story of his father’s death from a fall from his horse. And though his grandfather had worked with him at Inverlochy, Keifer still feared the animals’ power and strength. But Sir Bryan taught him to harness his fear, to respect the strength, and to direct the power in appropriate response to specific cues.

  “You must understand how a horse’s mind works, what their natural insincts are. Then you can use those natural tendencies to your advantage,” the knight explained.