by Kara Griffin
“Be that as ye say, my lady, I wouldn’t leave you to your own. Moray told me what he expected, and that was to betroth you to Lord Lennox. Whilst we await him, I bid you to enjoy your stay. My wife and sisters are here. Surely you want the company of other such women.”
She was handed a cup and bowed her head. “I do appreciate your care. I shall look forward to meeting Lord Lennox.” A pain wracked her stomach, and her breath pitched. Queasiness came, and she resisted the urge to gag. God help her, she would have to do something to get out the betrothal, but what she didn’t know. Hopefully the man would be delayed and she could make her escape before he arrived.
“I was a great friend to Moray and he to me. He supported my claim to the kingdom and I am pleased to do this for him. I will see to your future, Mistress Kerrigan, and be assured you are settled.” He went on to tell how he and Moray met and how their friendship evolved.
And even though she pretended to hang on his every word, she gazed about the hall searching for Laird Moray’s son. She wanted to see for herself he was well. Once she knew that, she would make a plan to flee.
“I know who you seek. He will be brought to us soon enough. Tell me, lass, have you heard of the legend of king’s guard?” He sat back, content to drink his ale. “Tales are being told from one end of Scotland to the other.”
Kerrigan set her cup down. She dreaded lying to him, but it couldn’t be helped. She would protect Graeme and his comrades regardless of the disloyalty. “Oh, my lord, everyone has heard of the legend of the king’s guard. I’ve heard the most delightful tales as well.” She sat forward pretending to be enthralled by their discussion. “I overheard the village baker saying they rescued four of Lord Leicester’s men near Caerlaverock some months ago. And a farmer was said to have his livestock returned by them and the guardsmen sought justice for him. Some say they saved a poor merchant who lost his wife’s skull in a trunk of coins.”
James bellowed with laughter.
“What is so humorous, James?” Robert asked.
“What the lass says might be true for I’ve heard the same tales. Aye, but they are just stories told around the fires at night. Surely such fetes are embellished.”
He winked at her and Kerrigan wished they were alone so she might pinch James’ arm. She doubted it would hurt him for he seemed not to have a care for his safety given the way he rode his horse.
“I do hope they are real. It would be a shame for their renown gives us all hope goodness prevails during this difficult time.”
The king smiled and raised his cup. “I agree. Such tales make for a jovial time and we could use merriment. Mayhap they do exist. Perhaps the bard will sing of them this eve. Ah, here is young Moray. I will leave him to ye to get reacquainted. I bid ye to join us this eve for the feast.” Without another word, he left with James following.
Andrew ran toward her with a big smile on his face.
“Kerrigan, I never thought to see ye again.” He stood next to her, but he watched the king progress through the hall, awed as much as she being in his presence.
“I’m pleased you’re well. You’ve grown taller.” She wanted to hug him close and let him know how much she’d missed him, how gladdened she was he wasn’t hurt during his confinement.
“Aye. I’m happy to see you, Kerrigan. I was scared, but I remembered what Da told me. He said to always be courageous.”
“I am certain you were brave.”
He grinned from ear to ear. “The king says I will foster with his knights. Look at the armor he gave me. I will begin my training soon.”
His voice rose with excitement and Kerrigan saddened at his news. The lad was young, too wee to take to arms yet. His armor was of good quality and would protect him. “I am sure you will make a fine soldier and your father would be proud.” What could she say? She had to show encouragement for there was nothing in the lad’s future but warring, such as his father’s life, and his father’s before that.
“Is it true, is my Da dead?”
She detested telling him the sad news. “He perished from his wounds. I am sorry, Andrew, but know he did so doing his duty. I spoke with him before he passed and his last words were of you.” She wanted to take him into her arms and comfort him, but he would have none of that. Even though his lip quivered slightly, he resisted crying.
“I must go for the lads are to sup together. I stay in the garrison with the other squires.”
“I am glad you are safe, finally. Go and be well.”
A lad his age was hard to keep in one place for long. He ran off to join his friends, and she likely forgotten. She watched him go, melancholy at the thought she would probably never see him again.
Kerrigan was escorted by the steward and taken to a chamber where the other ladies resided. They sat around discussing the night’s activities and none seemed to notice her. That was until a young lass came forward.
“Good day to you, I’m Marjorie, the Bruce’s daughter.” She sat next to her.
“I am Kerrigan.” Beyond exhausted from her travels and from her the daunted discussion with the king. She sat next to the lass, completely defeated.
“Everyone knows who you are. My father has spoken to his wife about you.”
“Is she not your mother?” Kerrigan glanced across the chamber to the staid woman whose face didn’t show any pleasure at her conversation with the surrounding women.
“Nay, sadly my mother, Lady Isabelle died. He’s married to Elizabeth de Burg now and those two,” she said pointing at the ladies seated near the queen, “are my aunts. The lady sitting beyond is my father’s sister, Christina, and the other is Mary. I am pleased to sit with you.”
Kerrigan sensed sadness about the girl, but she had a serene expression on her face and didn’t seem unkind. She was a bonnie lass with big blue eyes and a perfect shade of light brown hair parted in the middle and rolled into a coif. She bared a resemblance to her father with her coloring.
“I heard you were Lord Andrew Moray’s ward.”
“I was. My family perished, and he was kind enough to take me in.”
Marjorie leaned close. “You should not trust them,” she whispered and tilted her head in the ladies’ direction, “for their lips loosen when they sneak sips of wine at supper.”
Kerrigan smiled knowing she had somewhat of an ally in her newfound young friend. “I thank you for the advice.”
“You are tired. If you would like, you can rest on my pallet. I will make excuses for you.”
“I am and appreciate it. Thank you.” Kerrigan stood and followed her to the corner of the chamber where a pallet sat filled to overflowing with covers.
“Rest here and I shall come when supper is served, and the feast begins.”
She settled down and tried to rest, but Graeme kept intruding in on her thoughts. She hoped he wasn’t hurt too badly. How she missed him. One way or another, she had to escape from this place and make her way back to him even if that meant she’d be in exile as he was.
Kerrigan didn’t know what to think of James Douglas for he verily could have given Graeme’s location to the king. But he hadn’t. The man was a puzzle and certainly not easily solved. With her eyes closed, she listened to the sounds within the chamber and wished Graeme was beside her. She missed his touch, his kisses, and hearing him speak her name from his sweet lips.
As tired as she was, she dozed on and off. Marjorie awoke her a short time later, and she was still weary, but the king wanted her attendance at the feast.
“My aunt left a gown for you to wear this night. Would you like assistance?” Marjorie placed a heavy woven crimson gown on the bedding.
“Thank you, Marjorie.” Kerrigan went to the washstand and rubbed water on her face. Once cleaned, she pulled the gown over her head. The gown was plain with wide fabric at her arms and a thin black velvet ribbon at the waist. The heaviness of the cloth pooled at her feet. Marjorie pulled the ties to close the back.
“There, you are presentable f
or the feast. Let me run a comb through your hair,” she said, and pulled out a piece of grass that must’ve gotten there during her travel. “You’ve the loveliest hair, Kerrigan, it’s so light and long. How I wish I had such curling tresses. I deem you will be the comeliest lady at the feast this night.”
She smiled at the lass’ kindness. “I would rather have your hair for I always wanted darker straighter locks.” As soon as she finished combing her hair, Kerrigan took her hand and allowed Marjorie to lead her to the feast.
The hall filled with the castle’s occupants, servants, and the king’s soldiers. No one would dare sit until King Robert arrived. He came a few minutes later and everyone bowed their heads. Kerrigan did so as well, but watched as he passed by others. He wore an unaccountable expression on his face. She wondered if he’d received unfavorable news or if he was displeased with someone. Hopefully she wasn’t the cause of his perplexing mien.
He walked around and spoke to the people, mostly men. Their boisterous laughter rose within the hall. Robert made his way to his table, which sat at the far end of the chamber. As he walked past, he stopped in front of her.
“Lady Kerrigan, I’m pleased to see you joined us. Lord Lennox will join us shortly for he has arrived. I am pleased to announce your betrothal for it will give us something to celebrate.”
She bowed her head, but verily wanted to retch. Kerrigan felt the twinge in her throat and resisted the urge. A panic stiffened her, and she thought she’d fall to the floor. She took a deep breath and realized she would have to think of something to say when the time came. “Thank you, my lord, I look forward to meeting him.”
Just as she spoke, a man marched into the hall. His steps thundered through the hall as everyone stepped aside and allowed him to pass. Kerrigan knew if she remained standing it would be miraculous.
He was a fair-haired man, lanky, yet had musculature. His face chiseled with sharp edges to his jaw. Handsome didn’t begin to describe his features, for he looked to almost feminine with his smooth face and dimpled chin. The man bowed and jabbed the point of his sword down and into the wood of the flooring.
He knelt, and set his hands on the hilt of his sword and said, “My lord, I am here at your behest. You have my fealty as well of all those within my clan. What service may I do you?”
“Lord Lennox, Micheol, I am pleased you arrived. As you ken Moray and your father set a betrothal betwixt you and his ward, Mistress Campbell. I will see it settled this night.”
Micheol kept his green eyes firmly on the king. Kerrigan couldn’t think of anything to say to get out of this tarry. She stepped back when he motioned to her and Lennox’s eyes reverted to her. His gaze pierced her and unnerving.
“Is she not lovely? She will make you a goodly wife.”
Lennox rose, but his face showed no regard for her beauty or otherwise. “Sire, I would gladly take her to wife, but I’m afraid I cannot.”
She wanted to shout with glee at his unacceptance, for even if he found her unattractive, at least she’d gotten her wish. Kerrigan remained silent, and all those who stood around them waited for the king’s response.
“Do you refute my will?” Robert stepped forward, his hands clenched and his face scowling in displeasure.
“I would never refute you, my lord, it’s just … with Moray’s passing I discerned the betrothal annulled and I was betrothed to the daughter of our clan’s rival to gain peace. I would gladly do any other service for you.” Micheol inclined his head, appearing to be appeasing.
King Robert turned and peered at her before returning his attention back to Micheol. “I can see how you would discern that, you are freed from the agreement. Please join us at our feast this eve and I bid you to rest before your journey home.”
Micheol bowed to him and then to her. He stepped back and retreated into the crowd. The hall’s silence filled with murmurs and their attention returned to the food being served by the maidservants of the castle.
Kerrigan fell back upon her seat, relieved that was over. Marjorie gazed at her and then pushed a trencher near her. “You should eat something, Lady Kerrigan, for you are peaked.”
But she wouldn’t eat a thing. She still felt the king’s gaze and tried to abate the anxiety settled in her chest.
Robert took a seat next to Marjorie. He leaned forward and motioned his daughter to sit back. “Well, that is disappointing. Is it not, Lady Kerrigan? Lennox would’ve made you a fine husband. Still with Moray’s death, it is up to me to see you married and settled.”
Kerrigan held her breath. She couldn’t tell him she’d married, especially because it was to someone he’d likely kill and secondly because he hadn’t given her permission. With hope, she reasoned if she said nothing perhaps he’d forget the undertaking.
“What say you? Would you be pleased if I were to betroth you to a gallant knight?” Robert fingered the goblet in front of him, a light smile upon his face.
She nodded and tried not to show her aversion. “If it is your will, my lord.” She picked up her cup and tried to appear disinterested.
“To someone say … Ah, Sir James.”
She choked on the liquid and Marjorie pounded her back. “You see, father, you’ve upset Lady Kerrigan for everyone knows the Douglas is formidable and trying. No lady wants to be wed to such a … You wouldn’t betroth me to a man I didn’t love. Lady Kerrigan knows her own heart.” Marjorie quieted when her father gave a look of disapproval.
“I doubt James would find me acceptable, my lord,” Kerrigan said, hoping to redirect his attention for he seemed affronted by his daughter’s view.
“He wouldn’t? Nonsense. James,” he called, “Would you be pleased if I were to betroth Lady Kerrigan to you?” and to her, “James will rule his family lands one day. And he’s a noble man who is to be knighted. What say you?”
James frowned and was as aghast as she was at the king’s suggestion. “I’ve no time for marriage, sire, for my heart only belongs to you and Scotland and fighting your foes.”
She had a new respect for James. He knew of her marriage to Graeme and with his words, surely the king would cease his will to see her wed. At least that’s what she hoped.
“Well, my lady, there it is. Perhaps we should knight you now, James, for you swear fealty and make promises others do not.”
“I live to serve you, Robert,” James said.
To her, the king said, “Worry not, my dear lady, for I shall find you the bravest, most valiant man to wed you to.” Robert rose and walked toward the dais where his wife awaited.
Kerrigan released a nervous breath and Sir James, the knave, winked at her. She sat next to Marjorie and enjoyed the lass’ chatter. She spoke nonsense, and Kerrigan only caught the end.
“… aye and then she tripped on the hem of her overdress right into the pickled pudding. It was all I could do not to laugh.” Marjorie giggled and hushed when her aunt glanced at her.
“How dreadful for her.”
“Oh but Christina recovered without little effort. She has a way about making excuses for her clumsiness. Once she blamed her trip on one of the servants who was so aghast he retched upon the rushes right in front of everyone.”
“Oh my, that sounds … well, rather comical.”
“I do like my aunt for she makes the evenings entertaining. See her friend there,” she said and pointed at the lady sitting next to her aunt. “That is Lady Buchan Comyn. Her husband, John Comyn sides with the English, but my lady says she stands with my father. I would deem her husband is not pleased with her for it is known he is at King Edward’s court.”
“Is he related to the Robert Comyn, Lord of Badenoch who King Robert is said to have killed?”
Marjorie nodded her quickly. “Lady Isabella’s husband is his cousin. She is Lady MacDuff as well and crowned my father because her brother, the Earl of Fife was captured and is held in Londontown. She did so again the following day for it is said all kings must be crowned by a MacDuff.”
The
steward stomped to the center of the hall and struck the floor with a long stick, and a younger lad stood next to him. With a large horn, the lad called the end to eating and the beginning of entertainments.
“I give you, the MacMhuirich,” the steward shouted, and bowed to Robert before stepping backward.
Marjorie clapped gleefully. “We are in for a delight for he is known to be the best bard in all of Scotland.”
Kerrigan wasn’t interested and wished to leave, but she couldn’t get up and flee the chamber with everyone sitting and remaining quiet.
The bard jumped upon a table. His voice rose to a yell, “You have all come here today to enjoy his majesty’s supper and amusements. And now that your bellies are full, I share with you the story and the legend of the king’s guard.”
She sat forward and realized she was frowning. Kerrigan sat back and placed a serene and hopefully uninterested mien on her face.
“It is said these men, the king’s guard were exiled with his majesty when our Good King Robert took Scotland for his own. Such bravery by our fearless leader to step forward and claim what is rightfully his. Who are these noble guardsmen? Where’st do they hail? No one knows but his majesty. And even as I begged, nay pleaded with him, he has remained closed lipped.” The bard smiled at the Bruce and turned hastily toward the opposite side of the hall.
“’Tis said they’re ghosts, and aye they walked across the waters to return to their beloved homeland. It’s bespoken they continue to protect our noble sovereign and uphold their duty. They wield mighty swords ready to fell any man that needs punishment and go against any army our King Robert challenges. If ye be fortunate to come across them, be not afeared for they’ll help you. That is if ye not be fearsome of their garishly gruesome faces and dark garb.”
A loud bang came from across the chamber and a rush of whispers and gasps echoed through the hall.
