by Kara Griffin
Graeme’s stomach lurched when the lass cried out after being hit with a stone.
“Please someone, please help me. Help me,” her words turned to sobs.
He closed his eyes against the vision of her fingers clutching the wooden gate of the cage. If Mary suffered such a fate, he despaired at what Kerrigan was going through.
“God Almighty, what have they done? When the Bruce learns of this his wrath will be ravenous.”
Liam pulled his arm. “Let us leave. I cannot stand aside when the lass in such distress.”
“There is naught we can do.” Hopeless at not being able to come to Mary’s aid, Graeme’s ire rose. Short of alerting the guard of who they were, they couldn’t intervene.
Brodin and Heath returned. He motioned to them and went into a mead hall. Standing on the far side, because there were no tables available, Brodin glared at the two men who stood too close. Liam went off to get them drinks. They waited for his return.
Once everyone held a cup, Heath said, “We questioned the guards. The lass in the cage was the only woman brought here. She was alone.”
Graeme sighed with frustration. “Then Kerrigan might have been taken to Berwick.”
“’Tis likely. We will leave as soon as we finish this drink.” Heath lifted his cup.
“To hell with the drink, we depart now.” Graeme dropped his cup and sauntered from the hall. He didn’t want to admit it, but the drink tasted better than that served in the mead hall they frequented. His friends finished their drink in a rush and followed him outside.
He retrieved his horse from the hostel and rode out. They only rode a few miles when darkness took hold. With little time and the urgency of their trek, Graeme hesitated to rest. But it was wise to do so with the dimmed light guiding their way. They didn’t light a fire since the area was unknown to them and they didn’t want to risk being approached by the enemy army.
Graeme rested his back against a tree and thought of Kerrigan. Her face waved in his memory and was vivid. He remembered how small her nose was, how full and lush her lips were. Her eyes beheld a sparkle when she teased him. Would he ever see her lovely face again?
They rested and quieted. He listened to the night sounds and pushed the old cloak he wore aside to better reach his sword. Then he thought to remove his sword and place it upon his lap should he need to defend himself.
Liam noticed his action, and he too did the same. Better to be prepared for an attack than to react later. Graeme wouldn’t close his eyes because he didn’t trust the English. They were too close to the border and even if many Scotsmen remained in the area, their loyalties were questionable.
Toward morning, he rose and rummaged through the sacks tied to his saddle.
“What are ye doing?” Liam asked.
“Taking account of our stores. We’ll need to stop and purchase more food in the next town.”
Liam whistled to Brodin and Heath, who rose and readied to leave.
They set off toward South Berwick. The town was reputed to be a market town where many traded goods. Its position on the coast was vital for the English as they wanted the territory to protect their northern borders as well as sieges from the seas. The nearer they got, the dense fog infiltrated the thoroughfare. Berwick was only a half day’s ride from Roxburgh and not such a great distance.
Graeme hoped to make it by midday. After seeing the lass hanging in the cage, he feared what they would find. He wondered why the king would separate the women and as the thought came to him, Liam sidled his horse.
“I believe King Edward is trying to send a message, and he’s using the Bruce’s family. He’s telling all of us in Scotland our families will be separated if we don’t align with him.”
“He is being brutal. But ye ken, the king doesn’t realize he’s causing his own peril. The Bruce will retaliate four-fold and his message will be for naught. I wonder if Robert received word of their capture yet.” Graeme suspected King Edward’s message would be lost on those whose hearts sided with Scotland for their people would rather fight than give in to the will of a malicious king.
Brodin joined in. “If Robert has found out, I am loathed we’re not with him. He’ll need our protection even more now.”
“Our king does need our protection more than ever. He’s likely to be foolhardy wanting vengeance for Edward’s mistreatment of his family,” Liam said.
Their glum discussion almost made Graeme commiserate with his king. If only Robert wasn’t the cause of his woe. Even so, he realized if he were Robert, he’d want Edward’s head for the atrocities inflicted upon his family.
Throughout the morning they rode hard, and they found a good place to tether their horses outside the wall of the keep. The fortification appeared to have been recently amended, for they heard it took damage in the last siege. Now high walls protected its interior, and the stronghold looked well-fortified. Graeme kept his gaze on the sentry standing guard high above. It was a good indication either the king was in residence or other political emissaries visited.
They kept walking toward the keep and above on a large beam another cage rocked to and fro. The lass cramped inside and held tight to the iron. She didn’t cry out, but gazed defiantly at the crowd. Graeme recognized her for the lady was Lady Comyn. Robert’s other sister was nowhere to be seen. His chest tightened because Isabella was a gentle soft-spoken woman. Although she had political convictions and often went against her husband in her beliefs, she always held herself in respectability.
Isabella moved, and the clank of the chains about her feet sounded. When she looked at him, he saw the look of hunger in her eyes. He plucked a hunk of bread from a man who stood nearby. When the man objected, Heath shoved him and Brodin pulled a dagger free. The man stepped back, but Liam blocked him from fleeing.
“Buy yourself another.” Liam tossed the coin at him and the man nodded and fled.
“Good thinking, Liam. We don’t need him squealing to the sentry,” Brodin said.
Graeme got as close as he could to the cage and tossed the bread to Isabella. She grabbed it and ate it as if she hadn’t eaten in days.
“Let us find out if Kerrigan was sent here.”
“We should ask Lady Comyn.” Heath gazed at the woman above.
“Nay, we cannot chance someone will overhear. I have an idea.” Graeme walked to the nearby village where the mead hall should be. Instead he found a busy inn where travelers rested. They might be able to find out news from the occupants instead of bribing the guards.
Fortunately an empty table sat in the center of the busy hall. He motioned to his comrades to be seated and vigilant. They ordered food and drink and waited. The inn’s room became noisy with boisterous laughter and people spoke in groups. Graeme couldn’t catch anything from the occupants.
He finished off his drink and noted his friends sat back trying to listen as he was. “Why don’t we mingle and see what we can find out?”
Across the room sat an older woman. She dressed well, not as a villager. The woman was newly arrived to the town and wouldn’t do. As he gazed about the room, he spotted another woman near the hearth. She looked to be local by her garments and demeanor. A young lass sat with her and an aged man. She appeared bored, and he noticed her watchful gaze.
Graeme approached and took an empty seat nearby. “Good day.” He despised her sort. She was a meddler and knew everything that went on in the town. She would have the news he sought.
“Good day,” both the woman and man said at the same time.
“I’m traveling through and noticed the revelry. Is there a festival?”
The lady shook her head, but remained quiet.
“I’m a crofter from the west come to trade.”
“What’d ye farm?” the man asked.
“Sheep. Aye, sold a few of my stock.” He patted his tunic as if he’d secured the coin from the sale.
The man threw a hand in his direction and Graeme shook it. “We’re the Bartons. My wife, Hilde, and o
ur daughter there. I’m Thom.”
“If there’s no festival why are all the people gathered? Is the king about?” Although Graeme knew why, he wanted to hear what they lady knew.
Hilde sat forward. “They all came when the Bruce’s family was captured. Did ye see the lady in the cage? She is a traitor and should verily hang there until she rots. ‘Tis said it is none other than Lady Comyn herself.”
“Nay. I fear my intent was only to sup and get back on the road.” Graeme was disgusted by the woman’s ill regard of life. Were that she was the one imprisoned in the cage, hungry, and fearful.
“All came to view the lady. I wish he’d brought the other ladies for the entertainment would’ve been humorous to be sure.”
“Were you here when she arrived?” Graeme wanted to shake sense into the woman, but instead he fisted his hands lest he jump from his seat and strangle the wretched ewe.
“We were. It was exciting to see the woman chained and drug through town. Many threw food at her. She fell twice and caused an uproar. ‘Twas entertaining to be sure.”
Graeme was sickened by the woman’s obvious unsympathetic attitude, but he continued his ruse. “She was the only woman captured?”
Hilde smirked. “She was the only one paraded through town. The Bruce’s sister was hanged in a cage at Roxburgh. I begged Thom to take us, be he refused.”
Thom scowled at his wife. “Have a care wife, for those women did nothing to be treated with such irreverence.”
“I came from Roxburgh and saw a woman in the cage. I pitied the poor lass.”
“Well, good sir, ‘tis her own fault being related to the usurper. ‘Tis beheld the king sent the Bruce’s wife to Londontown and is ensconced in the tower never to see the light of day again.”
Graeme was relieved to learn that. If Lady Bruce could bear it, Robert would eventually gain her freedom. All he had to do was parlay with the English king and perhaps give into a few concessions. That was if Edward was willing to negotiate.
“I do feel woeful for the child though. For the Bruce’s daughter was captured as well. ‘Tis said the king showed mercy and sent her to Watton, to the nunnery there.”
Thom poured him a cup of ale, but Graeme shook his head and refused it. “Thank you, sir, but I must be on my way soon.”
“Headed home?” Hilde asked.
“Aye. My wife awaits me. There was no other woman caught by the good king?” Graeme suspected their loyalties to King Edward and as much as he balked against claiming so, he had to appear to be of the like mind when it came to which side he took.
“There was another. Wasn’t she the king’s other sister?”
Thom finished chewing before he answered, “She was. I don’t know what happened to her.”
Graeme rose. “I must be off. Be well.”
“Safe travels to you,” Thom said.
Graeme signaled to his friends, alerting them he was ready to leave. He left the hall and ventured outside. While he waited for Brodin, Heath, and Liam, he watched the passersby. Those in the lowlands appeared to have more support for Edward than Robert. He hoped their king realized the plight he was up against. Holding their lands to the north would be vital in the endeavor to take back Scotland.
Heath joined him. “I don’t think Kerrigan was with them when the lassies were caught.”
“I agree. There was no word of her, only the king’s wife and sisters and Lady Comyn.”
Brodin and Liam strolled from the inn.
Liam spat on the ground and scoffed. “I loathe being by the border. Aye, these wretched people should be gone from our lands since they have so much adoration for King Edward.”
“Let us leave this place for it smells of nothing but the English and traitors.” He would say no more, but being there made him apprehensive.
They hurried through the town gate and retrieved their horses. Graeme was forlorn. Where was Kerrigan? He was certain the king would have sent her to safety with his family, but perhaps he hadn’t. If not then where would he have sent her? He tried to think of where and reasoned James must have arrived after the king sent the womenfolk away.
“We should make our way back to the abbey. Mayhap the friar received word from James.”
Brodin scowled and guffawed. “Aye? And mayhap shite will fall from the sky.”
“I agree with Brodin,” Liam said. “James is hiding. He won’t be found until he’s ready to reveal himself.”
Heath, ahead of them turned in his saddle. “James knows he’s angered you. He is probably remorseful. Either that or he vows ye want to kill him.”
Graeme looked ahead and spotted a regiment of soldiers marching along the trail. They rode past, and he noted the defeated look on their faces. Something dreadful happened to them. He wondered if they had a skirmish with Robert’s army. He motioned to his friends and dismounted. A lad trailed the group of men and Graeme motioned to him. The lad’s face downcast.
“Lad, where do you hail from? Did ye beat those savage Scots?” He had to present the image of siding with the enemy if he’d get answers.
“You should’ve seen ‘em,” his voice grew incredulous. “They fell from the trees. Our troop was well numbered, much more than they and still they …”
“What say you, lad? Did the Scots defeat you?”
“The massacred us. I swear they were invincible. Aye, like they were possessed by the devil himself.”
James. Graeme set a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“I ran. I’m a coward.”
He commiserated with the young one even though he fought for the wrong side. “It is never cowardice to flee when you can take up arms another day.”
The lad smiled. “I never thought of that.”
“Where did you fight the Scots?”
“Just west of Dumfries. We were sent to find the Scots’s king’s guard. King Edward heard the tales and of their doings and he bid us to apprehend them.”
Graeme glanced at his comrades. “Off with ye. Be well, lad.” He remounted his horse and when Brodin sidled next to him, he shook his head to indicate they not speak.
Once they reached the vacated woods, he slowed his mount. “We must make haste. All be on guard for if the English king searches for us, who knows what dangers lurk.”
“Will we continue to the abbey?” Heath asked.
“We shall. Then we will go in search of James. He is out there wreaking havoc on Edward’s army. He shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“Nay.” Liam laughed. “We just have to look for Edward’s soldiers.”
“Did you hear what the lad said? James and his band are doing more than wreaking havoc. Appears he is intent on destroying the army.”
“Well now.” Brodin fingered his jaw. “Ye can’t be as angry with James now.”
“The hell I can’t,” Graeme said.
As they rode toward Dumfries and the abbey, they came across two more regiments, both of which gave the same story. They were inundated by Scots who felled a good many of their number. Their losses were substantial enough for them to return to their barracks.
By nightfall, they reached the abbey, and the friar was in a frantic mien.
“It is good to see you, my lords, but I cannot entertain ye, for the Bishop comes. He is stopping here before he travels to the border to meet with England’s king. I have no time to dally and must prepare.”
“I only want to ken if you’ve word of James.”
“I’ve received reports. Seems he wars with England regardless of what the Bruce wants.”
Graeme tilted his head at the friar’s words. “What does the Bruce want?”
“King Robert has left our lands. Perhaps he’s abdicated his desire to be king.”
“I won’t believe that, Friar. He’s sacrificed too much to gain the crown.” Graeme suspected with winter coming, the king would rest his legions and regroup in the spring.
“I must go.”
“Thank you, Friar Hemm. G
ood fortunes with the Bishop’s visit.” Graeme said to his friends, “We’ll rest a bit, gather more food, and ride out. We leave at dawn.”
When the sky lightened enough, they rode out. They traveled to the west of Dumfries where James was reputed to haunt. They rode until night made their search impossible. Near Urr a small wooden bridge allowed them to cross the river.
The ground became slippery from the recent snows and slowed them. Graeme led their procession, knowing they would soon need to make camp. The sky remained dark with bulbous clouds and a heavy chill hung in the air. He smelled moisture and suspected snows would soon fall again.
By midday, they reached far western lands. Reverting around the many streams and hills, they continued south until they reached the ancient standing stones well beyond the Douglas’ stronghold. The high stones evoked a sense of tradition in him, and Graeme insisted he and his comrades stop to pay their respects to those who worshiped there. There was a sense of awe for those who came before them. Each of his friends dismounted and walked amongst the stones, silent and reflective of the lives lost and given.
After the respite, they remounted and continued to ride. Graeme didn’t think the English men-at-arms would come this far south, and he changed direction and headed toward the family seat of the Douglas clan. Trees speckled hills and in the distance, the woods grew thicker. Before he could react, a group of men rode hell-bent toward them.
“Turn back. Don’t go in the wood,” one soldier yelled.
“They’re fiends. Flee for your lives,” another called.
Graeme stopped and watched as they fled past.
“I believe we’ve found James,” Brodin said with a touch of humor in his voice.
Graeme took off and was the first to enter the woods. Snow lightly cascaded and within minutes became heavier. The air grew colder but graciously the wind abated. Their breaths sent a waft of mist into the air.
The sound of laughter echoed through the trees. From their position, Graeme noted more English men scattered toward the opposite end of the woods. Swords clashed and war cries mingled with the Scot’s intimidated laughter.
Graeme sat upon his horse and watched the fray as did his comrades. He nudged his horse forward when the last of the foes fled. They would have given assistance, but it appeared none was needed.
