by Tessa Murran
Chapter Twenty-Seven
From his vantage point atop the hill, Will could see the troops massing down the river valley a few miles ahead, all heading to Berwick. The English reinforcements were daunting in their numbers, thousands of men trudging alongside a wagon train bulging with weapons, tents and provisions. A veritable river of violence and death was headed for the Scots forces some miles up ahead. He spotted wood and tools, possibly siege engines, in pieces now, but easily assembled. Soon they would be hurling volley after volley at the same walls the Scots had attacked not a year earlier. Some victories, it seemed, were fleeting, and while King Robert had been basking in the glory of taking the prestigious border town, his enemies had been plotting how to take it back.
Will glanced back at his men, a hundred or so, vulnerable, now they had left their ships with a handful of men in the bay ten miles north at Burnmouth. There had been no point in bringing them up river to fall foul of English ships if a blockade of Berwick was already underway. He needed certainty as to their role in this fight before acting, and for that, he needed to find Cormac Buchanan. If his scouts were correct, then nightfall would bring them to the Bruce’s camp where Cormac was most likely to be.
He rode back to his men, sheltering in the trees and turned to Waldrick. ‘English, down in the valley below. We must ride around them and stay out of sight.’
‘How many, Will?’
‘More than we can handle, my friend. Move the men back into the trees quietly.’
‘Will,’ hissed Waldrick in alarm.
Hooded men on horseback emerged from the forest around them. Swords scraped free of scabbards, and the Bains braced themselves as the strangers quickly surrounded them.
‘Hold, they are Scots,’ snarled their leader, driving forward his huge, black horse. He rode closer to Will. ‘What foul wind blew you onto these shores? I would have expected you to be running from a fight instead of towards one,’ said the man contemptuously as he pulled back his hood.
It seemed he had no need to find Cormac Buchanan, for Cormac Buchanan had found him. Will sucked in a breath and braced himself for trouble.
‘I seek an audience with the King, Cormac.’
‘I thought he was no King of yours?’
‘He is when I need him to be. Don’t you want to know why I am here?’
‘Whatever the reason, I can be assured I won’t like it. Why don’t you tell me now?’
‘I will tell the King and only the King.’
‘Where is my sister?’
‘Safe, back at Fitheach, guarded by my best men.’
‘So that she can’t escape you?’
‘Like I said, so that she is safe.’
‘Has Morna come to regret shackling herself to you? Is she happy with her lot?’ Cormac’s lip curled in disgust as he looked Will up and down.
‘Not exactly.’
Cormac glared and his mouth set in a hard line. ‘You and your men will follow me to camp.’
***
Morna went in search of Beigis the morning after her arrival at Beharra. She found Ravenna’s friend sitting on a dry stone wall near the stables with two flaxen-haired children chasing the chickens at her feet.
‘You are Beigis? May I sit with you?’ she asked.
Beigis looked discomforted but replied, ‘Yes, of course.’
Morna settled herself on the wall. The stone was warm under her bottom where the sun hit it.
‘How beautiful they are,’ said Morna, smiling at the children.
‘They are my whole life,’ said the woman with feeling.
‘Beigis, forgive me if I pry, but Ravenna told me you fled here because you were in danger from Ranulph Gowan.’
‘As you, too, have been.’
‘Aye, he is a bad man, is he not?’
Beigis nodded and clenched her hands together. ‘Ravenna has been very kind, I can never repay the debt I owe her.’
‘As she tells it, you were a good friend to her before her marriage to my brother, when she had nothing and no one in the world. Ravenna never forgets a favour, she has a loyal heart. It must have taken courage to leave your whole life, your loyalties and clan behind. I would like to know how you did it?’
‘T’was not so hard in the end. Ranulph wants an heir so, just days after my husband died of a fever, he came to me and told me we were to be wed. I will always remember his words, so cold, so cruel. ‘Do not expect love or affection from me, I am not that kind of man. This is a great honour for you. Do your duty, serve me and give me children. You are comely enough, and you are my choice. There is nothing more to discuss.’ When I told him I could not do it, that I was grieving for my husband, he said my children would be taken from me if I refused. He did not care for me, not even a little, but I had proven fertility, you see, so I made a good broodmare.’
‘How awful for you. That man has ice in his veins.’
‘Aye. Wedding Ranulph would have been unbearable. My Tamhas, God rest his soul, well, I married him as my father’s choice. I thought duty was its own reward, but in the end, he was kind and gentle with me, and we had a sort of happiness. I grew to care for him deeply. I have always been the dutiful daughter, the obedient wife, but when he died, and my future became Ranulph Gowan, something snapped in me, and I could not stand it any longer. I took my children and fled.’ She smiled, bringing out the gentle beauty of her face. ‘How I wish I could have seen the look on Ranulph’s face when he found me gone, he would have been so shocked – mousy, little Beigis rebelling at last.’
Morna smiled back at her. ‘You have been helping Owen in his recovery. It seems you have become friends.’
‘Aye, what of it?’ Her tone was sharp.
‘I must find a way to make amends with him, and I am not sure how to proceed. Does he…does he speak of me at all?’
‘Very little,’ replied Beigis, which hurt Morna’s pride more than she cared to admit. Beigis regarded her with soft, blue, doe-eyes. ‘He certainly didn’t tell me you look so well.’
‘Not as well as you.’
‘Oh, I cut a fine figure once, but my bloom is faded now, whereas you, I can see how you could have broken his heart.’ There was a reproof in her words which gave her away.
‘I did not mean to.’
‘T’is done all the same. Owen suffers all the same.’
‘Beigis, do you care for him?’
Beigis stood up and brushed dirt off the back of her dress. ‘I do no such thing. I esteem him and why would I not, he is a fine man, and he has been kind to me and my children. I seek only to ease his pain while he heals, that is all.’
‘Beigis, do not be afraid of caring for Owen. I am wed to another, and I have no claim on him.’
‘Do you not, Morna? she said as her face turned pink. Taking her children’s hands, Beigis hurried away.
Sighing heavily, Morna jumped off the wall. That had gone well. All she meant to do was befriend the poor woman. Instead, she had offended her, but she had also learnt something. Why would Beigis be so irked at her question if her feelings for Owen did not go beyond those of a nurse and a friend?
Either way, it was cowardly to put off the inevitable. Gathering her courage, Morna went to find Owen.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Will stood in the ankle-deep mud outside the tent as the breeze lifted the King’s penants – a lion rampant on a field of gold, flapping alongside the blue and white cross of Scotland - the proud colours of patriotism. His family had paid a high price for refusing to bleed for that cause.
If this went well, he would have a chance to redeem his family name while positioning Clan Bain near the throne of Scotland. He could buy the King’s favour by aiding him in defeating the English threat. If it went badly, he would be hanging from a gibbet by nightfall, or facing an even worse death.
Cormac had said little on the ride into camp, instead, giving him a hard, black stare now and again. It seemed his resentment at having his sister stolen still burned bright. Wou
ld the man plead his cause fairly with the King, or condemn him and turn his sister from a bride to a widow? Whatever Cormac Buchanan was, he had a reputation as a just man, if a little ruthless with it. Will had no choice but to trust in that.
A chill rain started to fall and leaves whirled down from the trees. Soon it would be the onset of winter and camping out would be a bone-numbing misery of wet feet, limbs aching with cold and disease stalking the camp.
‘The King will give you a moment now.’ Cormac was at his shoulder with a grim look on his face. ‘Speak honestly and simply. Do not waste your words for he has no time for fools. Hand over all your weapons.’
When Will narrowed his eyes, Cormac gave him a grim smile and held out his hand. ‘Do you think I trust you enough to let you stand before my King with a blade in your hand? You’ll as like open his throat as parley with him.’
Will entered the tent defenceless and stood before his King.
Robert the Bruce sat on an ornately carved chair regarding him with gimlet eyes as Will approached and knelt at his feet. Having never before met the man, Will was surprised at how unprepossessing he was. Not an overly big man, nor a handsome one. He had a face that bordered on ordinary. He had imagined him a monster, for so many years, but now he saw an ageing man, war-worn and weary from the struggle of hanging on to power, a rot in his soul that was slowly consuming him.
‘Bain, is it?’ sneered the King, his tone dismissive and bored. ‘I hear you were once an O’Neill, or have you forgotten that?’
‘I will never forget,’ said Will, looking Robert straight in the eye.
‘It seems you have the O’Neill insolence still, even if you have lost the name. What do you want of me?’
‘I wish to fight for you and for Scotland.’
The King smiled. ‘What makes you think I need you to?’
‘Ships, Your Grace. The English have many, and you have few. If the English blockade Berwick, you will need to come up river and attack. If they sail up the coast and outflank you by bringing their forces into Scotland, you cannot move quickly enough to halt their advance. With my ships for transportation, you can.’
‘Do not presume to school me in war-craft, Bain. I have been slipping an English noose for years, while you were sucking at your mother’s teat. I seem to remember I scourged your clan for not having the spine to fight for Scotland. Why would you want to fight for a man who has done that?’
‘Survival - yours and mine. Your fight was with my father, not me and not Clan Bain. The clans of the Western Isles have considerable power, power you need to harness if you are to take the fight into England. Whether Berwick holds or falls, King Edward is attacking with renewed vigour since he mended fences with the Earl of Lancaster. A united England is a strong foe, and it will need a united Scotland to oppose it. I have influence with the other clans of the Isles, and I can rally them to your cause.’
‘Assuming there is a sliver of truth in this, what are you proposing?’
‘I have brought ten ships, left at anchor some miles from here, awaiting the outcome of our meeting. The men brought into camp with me today are but a fraction of the number I have left scattered along the coast waiting for my command. Let me help you defend Berwick.’
The King beckoned Cormac and whispered in his ear, and Cormac nodded.
‘And in return?’ said Cormac.
‘I wish to have your assurance that Clan Bain be looked upon favourably and as an ally. I will keep order in the Isles at your command and my enemies will be your enemies.’
The King stared at him for so long it became unnerving, before finally dismissing him. ‘It is fortunate for you that my man Cormac here has vouched for you, else your head would be resting atop a spike for daring to claim the name O’Neill in my presence. It is also fortunate for you, though most likely not for her, that you have connived to marry his sister. I will think about your proposition. You may leave my presence William Bain, but you may not leave this camp. Is that clear?’
Will nodded and backed away. When he got outside the tent he sucked in a breath of air. Cormac was right. The urge to rip the man’s throat out had been strong indeed.
Some time later, as the hammering in his chest subsided, he felt Cormac at his shoulder.
‘Your weapons,’ he said, handing back Will’s sword and knife. ‘For defence only. You will be watched, rest assured the King never drops his guard.’
‘Because there are so many men out to kill him?’
‘Careful of that treasonous tongue of yours and mark my words you…’
Cormac trailed off, his gaze drawn to a young man staring back at them from across the opposite row of tents. He was blonde and striking in a useless, noble sort of way, all fine clothes and clean hair.
‘Who is that?’ said Will, surprised by Cormac’s reaction. ‘Judging by the venomous look on his face, he obviously knows you.’
‘That man over there, his name is Ranulph Gowan.’
Will turned back to the young man, anger taking his breath and went to move towards him but Cormac took hold of his arm in a grip of iron.
‘No, not here, not now. The King has no time for clan feuds when we have a war to win.’
‘Why is Gowan still breathing? A sharp blade in the night and Morna is avenged.’
‘He knows by now that Morna escaped his evil scheme, and he knows vengeance is coming. He also knows full well that I have found out it was him who took her. That whoreson will also know that my sister is now wed to a pirate laird from the Western Isles. I am happy to let it be known that we now have an alliance with Clan Bain. So Gowan knows I am coming for him, he just doesn’t know when. A condemned man once told me that he did not dread the executioner’s axe cleaving his neck, it was the waiting to die which was tortuous, not the dying. In answer to your question, I do not strike him down because, like a worm on a hook, I like to see him squirm.’
‘Well, his wait is over. There is one more condition of my giving my service to the King, and it is this. When this fight is over, I will take the head of Ranulph Gowan, and I alone.’
Cormac sighed and looked back down the field at the hapless Ranulph Gowan who hurried off under the force of his stare. ‘Agreed,’ said Cormac, ‘and, if you die, which you probably will, then I will see it done. What did you mean earlier about Morna not being happy?’
The question took Will off guard. ‘Nothing…I…we quarrelled before I came away, that is all.’
‘I suppose you do that a lot, for she has a temper on her my sister.’
He looked over Will’s shoulder. ‘Ah, here is my brother.’
Will turned to be confronted with the handsome and unreadable face of Lyall Buchanan. Though he had the same knack Cormac had of hiding his feelings behind a mask of indifference, his hands were balled into fists.
‘You look grimmer than last I saw you,’ said Will.
‘So Bain, I heard you had come,’ Lyall replied bitterly.
‘And I heard you wed that bonnie redhead I caught you with. You are a lucky man.’
‘Do not speak of Giselle, ever.’
‘It was a compliment.’
‘Not coming from you,’ replied Lyall.
‘Well, much as I am enjoying standing here with the two of your glowering at me, I am in need of food and a bed for the night.’
‘No, you are not,’ said Lyall, turning to Cormac. ‘All is ready, Lord Douglas is waiting for us.’
Cormac turned to Will. ‘You will have to forsake your soft bed and food. Send word to your men and ships that they are now under the King’s command.’
‘They are mine to command.’
‘No, they are the King’s to command, that is if your loyalty is true. Or do you intend to slink back to my sister with your tail between your legs when this belated piece of patriotism gets too hard for you?’
‘If you trust me so little, why let me fight alongside you?’
‘Because I know a killer when I see one and I need killers right n
ow. Gather the men you brought to camp. We march south, tonight, into England.’
‘England?’
‘Aye, the English force sent to Berwick is over ten thousand strong and cannot be overcome with what we have. They are attacking from land and sea simultaneously and moving miners up to the walls to undermine them.’
‘That will take time.’
‘Aye, but though the sow they sent up against the walls has already been burned, they will keep trying and eventually, they will get through.’
‘Lucky for us, Edward is a fool,’ said Lyall. ‘He marched his army north for a siege, but he did not have the sense to bring siege weapons with him. How the oaf thought he could smash his way into Berwick without trebuchets and slings, I do not know.’
‘He has realised his mistake. I saw siege weapons being transported,’ said Will.
‘Aye, they have had to be sent up from England, which has bought us some time, but not much. Once those weapons are assembled, Berwick is in for a pounding,’ said Lyall. ‘The English attack has already been repulsed twice by the town’s defenders but, as the siege prolongs, their resolve and courage will weaken.’
‘So we are headed into Yorkshire, Bain, to raid and smash and burn our way south,’ said Cormac. ‘We hope to antagonise Edward, make him retaliate and split his forces. That will give us a chance. If he sends men after us, it will weaken the siege of Berwick.’
‘If he sends an army south then we will be deep inside northern England and cut off from the Scots army,’ said Will.
‘Aye, but we can do some damage first,’ said Lyall. ‘So, William Bain, it seems it is time to test your new-found loyalty.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The hill was steep, so Morna was puffing by the time she reached its peak. Owen did not turn away when he saw her approaching. His eyes were fixed on her all the way up in a way that was unnerving.
Morna tried to catch her breath and think of something, anything, to break the tension evident in the way her former suitor was plucking at the grass where he sat, tearing it out by its roots.
