by Kara Griffin
Inside the cave, Graeme sat after eating his morning fare, and contemplated the dilemma before him. This was the worse time to be confronted with such a problem.
Liam tented his fingers as if he prayed for a miracle. “What was I to do? I had to put the horse down, Graeme. It went lame and wouldn’t recover. Now I’m without a steed. I need to replace my warhorse. I’ll have an advance. Gilroy can accompany me to the village so I can make the purchase. Although, I’d wager the coin he wouldn’t return with me. The lad’s been sneaking off there.” Liam continued to hold the coin from the wager he’d won with Brodin over whether he’d faint or not.
Graeme smirked because it wouldn’t be long before the coin would end up in another’s hands. Liam never held on to the coin for long. It was quite a fete he still held it.
“Aye, we’ll need to take care of it posthaste if we’re to leave to join the Bruce. I await word from James of his departure. As to Gilroy, I will find out what the lad is up to.” As he finished his words, the lad in question came through the entrance.
Gilroy trotted into the cave and held a parchment. “M’lord,” he said to Graeme, “I have a message for you. A rider came from the abbey. ‘Tis a message from Black Douglas.”
He thwacked the lad’s head. “No one calls him that, lad. Watch your tongue. What’s this I hear about you going to the village without permission? What are you about?”
The lad raised both brows, bit his lip, and slouched his shoulders. “M’lord? I don’t sneak off to the village. I sometimes go there to learn the news of my laird, the Bruce.”
Graeme sensed the lad lied, but he didn’t have time to deliberate it. “You’re not to go to the village without my permission.”
“Aye, m’lord.”
“Go and take refreshment to the friar’s messenger. Speak not of our matters. Do you understand?”
“Aye.” Gilroy bowed and left the cave hastily.
“I detest being harsh with the lad, but he must learn to restrain his actions and tongue. I should give him better instruction as should we all.” Graeme held the parchment, but continued to gaze at the exit where the lad departed.
“What say it?” Liam leaned in.
“James bids us to meet him on the road. They have left the Bruce’s encampment and travel to the west. We should hasten if we’re to catch up with them.”
“I’ll have to get a horse along the way. We should leave this day.”
“Aye, we will. Go and tell Brodin and Heath. I’ll inform Kerrigan of our departure.”
Liam chuckled. “Aye, just don’t take too long, Graeme, saying your goodbyes. We have no time to await you and need to leave posthaste.”
He tossed a hunk of bread at his head. Before he could leave and search for Kerrigan, the lass, Galyn came and curtseyed before him.
“My lord, can I get you anything? A drink, food …?”
Graeme gazed over her head and searched for Kerrigan when the lass took his arm. He pulled away, knowing her game. She’d tried many times to gain his notice since she joined their group. His heart was already taken, and he hadn’t any regard for the lass other than that she was Kerrigan’s friend. Before he could stop her, she kissed him. He was about to push her way when Kerrigan gasped from the entrance of the cave.
“I … I am sorry.” She fled whence she came.
“Mistress Galyn, I appreciate your interest, but I am … That is, I cannot reciprocate your feelings.” He felt awkward saying such and never had to refute a woman’s advances.
“It is Kerrigan, is it not? You have affection for her? I see the way you look at her. I understand, my lord, and had to at least try.” Her face brightened, and she turned and hurried into the antechamber.
Graeme let out an exasperated sigh. He went in search of Kerrigan and found her by the stream where they went to get water. It was a good distance from the cave, but there were enough trees to give cover. They should have announced they’d taken vows of marriage to those within the cave, but they hadn’t and he now regretted it.
“There you are.” He knelt next to her and took the bucket and dipped it into the water.
“I didn’t mean to witness …”
“Kerrigan, cease. What you witnessed was not of my doing. I didn’t approach the lass. She kissed me before I knew her intent. You know I only have eyes for you, lass. My heart is yours, my love, my wife.”
She fell against him and they sat next to stream. “I worried.”
“I know ye did, but you shouldn’t. I will never be unfaithful to ye, lass, you’ve my word. We should make the announcement. Mayhap you will whilst I am gone?”
Kerrigan raised her chin. “Aye, let me tell them. Where are you going?”
“I must tell ye, I’ve received a message that Robert’s army travels toward the MacDoughalls. We go to protect the king. I must leave for my comrades await me.”
Her arms tightened around him. “Nay. I don’t want you to go.”
“I must. The Bruce needs our protection and I’ve vowed to repay the MacDoughalls for you.” Graeme set his arms around her and returned her embrace.
“You don’t need to repay them and the king can protect his own arse.”
He laughed. “If ye knew our king, you wouldn’t say that. His passion for retaliation overrides his sense of safety. Nay, I must. All our allies will join him and I cannot allow him to war without protecting his back.”
“I worry for you. What if you are injured? What if you shan’t return? I will be lost without you.”
He kissed her tenderly on the lips. “Ah, lass, what if’s will not deter me. I cannot promise ye not to get injured or to return. I can only vow you will never be without me.”
A tear trickled over her bonnie cheek, to which he rubbed away with his thumb. “Do not weep, Kerrigan. If anything, I am gladdened I got this time with you. I will try to send word if I cannot return. Stay in the cave and do not for any reason go to the village. You should have enough stores to keep you until we return.”
“Aye. God be with you, Graeme.”
“Farewell sweet lady.”
He released her and walked away feeling more sorrowful than he had in a long time. When he was home on Cameron land and went off to a skirmish, he’d never felt remorseful leaving Sorcha. It was then he realized what he’d felt for his first wife was not love. Mayhap he respected her or cared a great deal, but the feelings he had for Kerrigan much differed.
Graeme reached his comrades who readied his horse. Liam rode with Heath until they found a horse to purchase. There was a farmstead on the route, and he’d enquire there. In silence, they rode hard and none spoke of what was to come. It was likely the largest battle they’d participated in since Wallace and Moray took to Falkirk. He hoped Robert’s allies grew and joined him, because the MacDoughalls would indeed win if not. They’d be well outnumbered.
Along the road, they crossed the farmstead where his good friend Giles Keith held up for his infirm after being dealt a crippling blow to his leg. His wife Dolina ran the farm and was a stout woman who took on her husband’s tasks. He’d heard she’d taken an ax and cut off her husband’s leg when it refused to heal. So like a Keith to wed such a woman. She was from good hearty highland blood.
“Great Gods above. Look what the hound dragged to our farm. Welcome, welcome.” She opened the gate to the homestead and waved them forward. “Good to see you, Graeme. I thought you might pass this way. All gather to support the Bruce. About damned time. I’m having a hard time keeping Giles from running to join.” She laughed. “Aye, but he only has one good leg to stand upon and fortunately can’t run anywhere. Come refresh yourselves.”
“Dolina, you look well. How fairs Giles? You actually cut off his leg?” Graeme tethered his horse and greeted his longtime friend with an embrace.
“Oh, aye you bet your sweet arse I did. It was his leg or his life. I do like the rest of him a wee bit more than his leg. He is sometimes dispirited, but he’s gladdened to be alive. He’ll be
happy to see you.”
“We cannot stay long and have need of a horse. Our friend here’s went lame. Have you a strong steed that can handle a long journey?”
“Giles, come out and greet our guests,” she yelled, and to him in a softer tone, “Come, we have but three horses right now. I deem one might be worthy.”
She took them to the corral and tilted her head in the direction of the horse standing the farthest from them. “He is strong and has the stamina of a warhorse.”
Liam jumped over the fence and approached the horse with caution. He whistled low and tried to gain the steed’s attention. The horse got spooked and ran at full speed in his comrade’s direction. Graeme was about to jump the fence and come to Liam’s rescue when the horse stopped abruptly and splattered mud all over Liam’s garments. He circled Liam, snorted and tossed his head to and fro as if prideful at what he’d done.
“What do you make of that? He must like your friend there, for he’s been known to trample a person if he gets too close. Aye, he’s yours for he’s chosen you.”
Graeme removed a pouch and put seven coins in her hand. “Is that enough?”
“Perhaps one or two more, it’ll be a long winter.”
“’Tis only just summer.” He should be angry she would try to swindle him, but she was a shrewd woman and wasn’t one to deny.
She laughed a boisterous bellow. “Aye, but winter will be here eventually.”
Graeme spoke with Giles a few minutes about the coming battle and apologized for their hasty departure. Giles understood and spoke of his desire to join the fracas. “You’re needed here. We’ll stop by on our return.”
“Good, I long to hear of the details. You’ll tell me all. God speed to all of ye.” Giles hobbled away, the crutch under his arm moved rapidly to keep his pace.
They left the farmstead with a sack of foodstuff, given to them by Dolina. She had a heart after all and wasn’t such an unreasonable lady. Veering off the trail, Graeme led the way through the gorge and made their trek shorter. With luck, they’d reach James Douglas before long.
With no time to waste, they rode through the night and the next day, and only rested for a few minutes here and there. Towards morning they entered the woods which inundated with a layer of thick fog. The moon made its descent and lent a creepy mien to their view. Graeme kept to the task and listened intently for any sound of foes, but only heard the hoot of an owl.
They rode for another hour in silent reflection of their surroundings. Ahead, the rustle of footsteps sounded and he knew they reached the army’s camp. He held up the signal, one arm reached high with a fist to alert their alliance. A man stepped from the trees.
“Is James Douglas about? He bade us to meet him.” Graeme wouldn’t divulge who they were and the implication of why they’d come was hopefully noted.
The man, marked with dye from a woad leaf grinned, his teeth flashed bright. “Aye, he is. He’s yonder taking rest.”
Graeme left his comrades to rest and went in search of James. He found him slumbered next to a small fire, his body uncovered except for the greenish-blue marks of the woad. He appeared to be a banshee or a berserker, aye, ready to kill anyone who came near. The ancient tactic enabled them to strike fear in their opponents, much akin to their battle rituals.
Unafraid, Graeme kicked his ankle. “James, we have arrived.”
His comrade opened an eye and grinned. “Aye, about damned time.” James sat up and stretched. “Been awaiting ye.”
“We’re close enough to MacDoughall land. Has the fight begun?”
“Not yet. Robert is yonder taking his rest as are the most of the soldiers. We’ll set out when the sun rises higher. What of you? Are you ready?”
“We are impatient to get this over with. Och have no fear, we’ll protect the Bruce. You just do your job and kill as many of those rogues as ye can so we can go home.”
James laughed. “No worry, I’ll do my duty. Just be sure to do yours. Before we go, I wanted to tell you what I learned of the wee Moray. He’s alive and well. Seems Comyn’s clan is taking care of him and hesitates to do him harm with threat from the English king. I am not sure why Edward has interest in the little lord, but he’s not to be harmed.”
“That’s good news.” Graeme leaned against his knees and watched the soldiers roust and made ready.
“My lad was able to find out a bit more. Seems Robert Comyn had a mistress he was seeing before the Bruce waylaid him. Aye, and there was rumored a bairn came of it.”
Graeme shook his head muddled by the inference. “What has that to do with our situation?”
“If you can find the lady and her bairn, you could use them to barter for the wee Moray. They’ll want the Comyns wee bairn, his kin, returned even if it be a bastard.”
Normally Graeme wouldn’t consider doing something so heinous, but he wouldn’t have a choice if he found them. Laird Moray would want his son protected even if it meant handing over a woman and her child to the Comyns. “Do you know her name?”
“Nay, och she lived close to where you hold up. Aye, and when you return you should enquire.”
“I will, James. If I find her, I’ll send a message and we’ll contact the Comyns.” Graeme motioned to his comrades who went to collect the soot from the fires. He took a heavy pouch of oil and added it to the pile set before him. When it turned pasty, he rubbed his skin to camouflage himself and then did the same on his sword and shield.
Brodin, Heath, and Liam repeated the ritual and within minutes, they transformed themselves. All were darkened, and none should be able to recognize them. He was concerned for they would be well within the view of their king, especially since they were there to protect him from any clash that would injure him.
James watched them with an astonished gaze. “What in the name of God are ye doing? Never mind, Graeme. We all have our own methods and tactics when it comes to warring.” He untied a pouch from his belt and removed something from it. It appeared to be a mushroom, to which James broke in half and popped into his mouth. The other half he returned to his pouch.
Graeme was curious, but there was no time to reason what his barbarian friend was doing. He returned his attention to his comrades. “Don’t get too close to Robert. We’re here to ensure no one strikes him from behind or waylays him.”
James stood and scratched his beard. He fastened his tartan around his waist with a thick belt and pulled a tunic over his head. “Once we pass MacDoughall land, you can be on your way. We’ll continue on and meet with the Campbells. They await us north of the crossing. Now let us on to the fight. I aim to use this arm, for it’s been untried for several days.”
The moon lowered and couldn’t be seen, and yet the sun hesitated to rise. Rain fell, sometimes in torrential sheets and kept the woods dark. The closer they got to the MacDoughalls, the rain lessened to a light shower. Graeme and his comrades dressed in the black garb and fortunately the oil they’d mixed with the soot kept the rain from washing it from their skin. It was a good thing because no one would recognize them. Even Sir Gilbert, the leader of the Bruce’s guard, and their champion, wouldn’t know who they were.
They approached the noise of the clash, knowing the MacDoughalls heard them coming. Shouts of war cries came and men yelled their challenges. Graeme turned his horse and dodged trees as he made his way toward the Bruce. Brodin, Heath, and Liam followed. After several hours of trailing Robert and ensuring his safety, Graeme grew fearful the MacDoughalls would claim victory. Many of the king’s army befell and lay at their horse’s feet as they trod through the thick woods. They’d already reaped losses and Graeme tensed and realized they would soon need to retreat or lose all. He hoped Robert understood.
As if he put the thought in Robert’s head, he called for a withdrawal. He bellowed his command, and those fighting continued until they could free themselves of the tarry. Robert rode ahead of them and ended up riding near the loch. A narrow passageway allowed them to pass through the small area, bu
t the MacDoughalls blocked the way. Robert would be cut down.
Graeme held his sword, knowing he had to get in front of the king. He kicked his horse’s haunches to get him moving, veered past Robert and bumped him, until he reached the first MacDoughall. His sword struck metal and his strike deflected by the foe’s, but his second slice proved true and disarmed the fighter. The adversary fell from his horse and rolled down the small hill toward the water of the loch. Robert called to him, but Graeme wouldn’t heed him. He hoped his comrades protected Robert’s arse.
He was able to deflect two more assailants and there didn’t seem to be any others in front of them. Graeme turned to see the happenings behind him and spotted both Heath and Liam embroiled in a clash on foot. Brodin rode up the slope toward another MacDoughall, when another rode hastily toward Robert. His king would be forced from his horse and likely struck where he lay. He couldn’t have that and jumped from his horse. As he reached Robert, a MacDoughall tried to unseat the king by grasping his tunic. The king’s garment ripped, but the man held fast to Robert’s broach.
Robert fell to the ground and looked up at the assailant who held his sword in position. Graeme ran at breakneck speed and intercepted the man’s strike. His sword rang true with his strength and for a few minutes, he deflected the enemy’s attack. Graeme advanced and backed the man against a jutted out rock. The man shoved him and jumped upon the rock behind him and disappeared.
He quickly took the top of the rock but didn’t see the man. He’d run off. Graeme turned to find the Robert standing behind him.
“Who are you?”
“Your soldier, sire.” He bowed and kept his head down and his voice low, hoping the king wouldn’t recognize him. “I must go.” It was risky to flee without the king’s leave, but Graeme had no choice. He had to get out of there before Robert recognized him. He’d been able to keep his head down, and only Robert called after him.
“My thanks. Come let us retreat. We’ll not victor this day, but we live to fight another.”
“Aye, my lord, we do. Do not despair, my lord. We will win this fight. I have confidence in you.” Graeme bowed and hastily left before Robert approached.
