Squire John’s reply was immediate and confident. “Yes, my Lord. I have no doubt!”
“How can you be sure?” Earl Strongbow questioned the occasionally errant Squire John.
Squire John pointed up towards one of the distant hills. “Look up on that hill. Do you see the knoll with the boulders and clump of pines and birch trees?”
“Yes. What of it?” Earl Strongbow said.
Squire John said, “I saw a woman standing there alone. I saw her take off her cloak and lay it on the ground. Then she kneeled on it. She bowed her head down. At first I thought she might be weeping, but I believe she may have been praying. Then I saw a man walk up behind her.”
Earl Strongbow raised his eyebrows at Squire John’s description of what he saw. It was consistent with his recounting of events last night. “Is that where you said you found the cloak?”
Squire John nodded and said, “Yes, my Lord.”
Earl Strongbow wanted to know more details. “Pray tell me, could you see what the woman looked like? Could you see what color was her hair?”
“My Lord, it seemed to me she was fair-haired, and her hair was long and loose, but as you can see, it is too far away to see many particulars.”
Earl Strongbow squinted up at the distant knoll. It probably would have been difficult to see much detail. “Yes, I see what you mean. Could you see what they did next?”
Squire John gazed at the knoll, trying to recall the moment he observed them. “I believe she stood up and walked back up the hill with the man.” He hesitated, wondering if he should tell Earl Strongbow something else he observed. That he had seen the two of them holding hands. He decided against telling him, as it would only further irritate the foul-tempered Earl.
But Earl Strongbow wanted to know more about what Squire John had seen. He wanted to know if the woman, most likely Lady Rowena he was sure, was with these men against her will. Earl Strongbow asked, “Did the woman seem . . . afraid . . . of the man?
Squire John did not like the direction this conversation was going. He said, “My Lord, they were too far away for me to say either way.”
“How far is the cottage you burned down?”
Squire John pointed up the path and said, “It is only a mile or so that way, just around the base of the hill and about half way up the side.”
Without another word, Earl Strongbow raised a hand in the air and signaled his men to follow him. They followed the path up to what was left of Taran’s lodge. All that remained standing was the stone walls. The roof had fallen in and lay in a pile of charred rubble in the middle of the structure. It still smoldered in a few places.
“It’s too hot to go in and search it,” he said. “Too bad, we may have been able to find something that could tell us where they were headed.” He looked again at Squire John and asked, “Tell me again. What did they say to Sir William when you demanded them to release Lady Rowena?”
“They denied anyone named Lady Rowena was with them.”
“Did you see her in the house?” Earl Strongbow asked.
“No, they fought us off when Sir William demanded to search the place. They killed him and two others. They spared me only so I would warn you against coming back.” Squire John winced as he remembered how close he had come to dying.
“Did you get a name, or anything that would help us in our search, Squire John?” Earl Strongbow asked.
“No, my Lord. Only that the two men we are seeking are Highlanders.” Squire John snorted as he said the word “Highlanders”. He continued. “We returned quickly, in hopes of taking them by surprise, but they were gone. We saw them over on the hilltop. They were on foot. It looked like the two Highlanders we fought and the woman I had seen kneeling. We searched the cottage but found nothing useful. We torched it to deny them refuge in case they returned.”
Earl Strongbow looked at the hilltop where Squire John had seen them. “Once again, Squire John, I must question what you were thinking! Why did you not follow them? They were on foot! You were on horses!”
Squire John bowed his head. “My Lord. They disappeared into the forest. They know this territory, and we do not—”
One of the senior knights, Sir Percy, interrupted Squire John. Sir Percy could not keep standing by while Earl Strongbow bullied the junior knight. Sir Percy said, “My Lord, we are many miles inside of the disputed territory with Scotland. We were unsure of our authority to be here. We were unsure that the woman we saw is Lady Rowena. The three people we found here may be of no interest to us. We perceived the risks of making such serious mistakes on enemy territory could be grave.”
Earl Strongbow glared at Sir Percy, but said nothing. Sir Percy had a point. No matter how strongly Earl Strongbow believed the woman traveling with the two Highlanders was Lady Rowena, his men could not be certain. Someone who knew her had to see her clearly. Apprehending Scottish citizens mistakenly and taking them to England could ruin the knights and their manor lords. It could even trigger another round of armed conflict between the Scottish and the English crowns. The knights had done the right thing. They needed someone of Earl Strongbow’s stature and authority to identify Lady Rowena and seize her.
Earl Strongbow grunted his acquiescence. “Very well. Take me to where you saw them last. Perhaps we will pick up their trail.”
This time Sir Percy led the way down the hill into a valley where a creek gurgled through it. They climbed up the next hill and went down again. Another steep climb and they were at the top of the next ridge. They kept moving until they reached the tree line where Taran had stood and watched his lodge burn as Sir Percy and his comrades had pranced around on their horses.
“This is where we last saw them, my Lord,” Sir Percy said. “They entered the forest here.”
Earl Strongbow peered into the woods. The trees were thick enough to provide good cover for the three of them. On foot, travel would be tough enough. With his party of eighteen men and horses, the going would be slow. No matter. They had to keep going. They had no other choice. Earl Strongbow called out instructions to the men. He said, “Spread out and take it slow. I don’t need to tell you to keep your eyes open for them. But keep your eyes open for any signs of trouble. The local folk around here would love to take our heads to their King Robert.”
It was mid-afternoon when they rode into the woods. They spread out in a wide line formation, so that they rode side by side instead of one in front of the other. Progress was slow due to the density of the trees and shrubs. They slowly inched their way forward, speeding up to a normal walk only when they encountered a small clearing.
They continued at this pace for a couple of hours. They found no sign of their quarry. Finally, they emerged from the forest onto open terrain. Ahead of them, the moors stretched out in the distance before them. A road cut across the landscape. They saw a cart being pulled by two oxen, a peasant and most likely his son walking alongside. In the distance, they saw two more people riding palfreys with heavy packs strapped to their saddles. A couple of merchantmen dressed in colorful vests over linen shirts were on foot walking south, each with a bag of wool hoisted over one shoulder.
Earl Strongbow led his men away from the woods and onto the road heading northwest at a normal walk. As soon as the two merchants saw the contingent of English knights emerging from the woods and forming a column on the road marching toward them, they hurriedly stepped to the side of the road to make way.
Earl Strongbow hailed them and said, “Good day, sirs. We have lost our bearings. Would you kindly inform us where this road will take us?”
Relieved to hear that the Englishmen were simply lost and not planning to attack them, one of the merchants tipped his cap and said, “Good day to ye, Laird. This road will take ye to Carneluke in about a day’s ride. Then to Glasgow. I’m supposin’ that’s where ye’re headed.”
“And just why do you suppose we’re going to Glasgow?” Earl Strongbow asked, an eyebrow raised.
“To meet up with the rest of yer
army. Dae ye ken, Glasgow is where yer comrades are. Word is they’re stormin’ the city and burnin’ everythin’ in sight! Are ye nae goin’ to be part of that?”
Earl Strongbow glanced at his knights, and knitted his brow. “No sir, we know nothing of it. I assure you we are on an entirely separate mission.” Earl Strongbow thought, why had the king not informed me of this incursion? No doubt it was done as a way to appease the ambitious John of Gaunt. Good Lord, Lady Rowena could be in great danger if she is in the vicinity of Glasgow.
The merchant asked, “If ye’re nae goin’ to Glasgow, ye must be lookin’ for Edinburgh. Go about five miles that way,” he pointed northwest as he spoke. “Ye will find a crossroads. Ye can turn north there and ye’ll be a day’s ride to Edinburgh.”
Earl Strongbow said, “You’re from around here, then, I suppose?”
The merchant grinned. “Aye, born and raised. Me parents and their parents, too, and I suppose many generations before them, too.”
Earl Strongbow ignored the merchant’s unnecessary detail about his lineage and asked, “We are looking for two Highlanders traveling with a young nun. A lovely young English nun. Have you seen them?”
The merchants looked at each other with puzzled expressions. “Nae, Laird, that is a sight we would surely remember.”
“I see,” Earl Strongbow said, disappointment showing in his face. “Can you tell us where we might find a place to rest for the night?”
“Aye. Ride up to the crossroads and ye’ll see MacEwen’s farmhouse. He’ll take ye in if he has room. He might be full. His place was crawlin’ with English the last we saw it.”
Earl Strongbow said, “So be it. Good day, sirs.” They spurred their horses into a fast trot.
As they rounded the next bend in the road, they were met with heavy oncoming traffic. There were people on foot, on horseback, and walking alongside loaded ox-drawn carts. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry. The road was so crowded with travelers that Earl Strongbow’s men had no choice but to slow their pace.
He finally had his men block the road. As the crowd bottlenecked and stopped, Earl Strongbow called out, “We are here on the authority of King Richard! We are not here to fight! We are seeking a woman, likely dressed in nun’s clothing, traveling with two of your countrymen. Highlanders. Her name is Lady Rowena. It is imperative that we find them. If any of you know anything about them, you are commanded to inform me immediately!”
The crowd remained silent. No one thought anything good could result from giving the Englishman the information he wanted, even if anyone had information to give him.
One brave man hollered from somewhere in the middle of the bottleneck, “We dinnae care about yer Lady or yer king! Ye have invaded our land for the last time! Now get out of our way or we’ll kill ye right here!”
With a sudden clashing of metal and wood, the men in the crowd drew their swords, pulled their knives, or raised any implement they had on hand. They shouted and held their weapons high in the air, threatening Earl Strongbow and his men. They were all Scottish, and many had their carts and their animals loaded up with everything they could carry, trying to save what they could from the English onslaught.
Earl Strongbow saw quickly that he and his men could not fight this angry crowd. He estimated that the mob had swollen to at least a hundred people. They could easily have overtaken his paltry band of eighteen men. No doubt they were more interested in getting to safety than they were in killing Earl Strongbow’s men. He thought, besides, they’re not stupid. They know the English army is close by and would readily take their revenge on them along with everyone they love.
Another man, emboldened by Earl Strongbow’s hesitation and his fellow Scotsmen, shouted, “Move yer bloody English arses!” Others began shouting and the crowd began to heave forward. As they surged ahead, they began to stream around Earl Strongbow, no longer intimidated by him or caring that he was in their way.
Earl Strongbow was outnumbered. The flow of travelers forced him and his men to ease over to the side of the road. As they were buffeted off the road, Earl Strongbow found himself trapped in the crowd. He was pressed up against the side of a cart on one side, and on the other side a number of peasants with sheep, a couple of cows, and a few goats were trying to go by.
The peasants pushed and pulled their animals along, and as they passed, one of the peasants was jostling a rusty iron pitchfork along with other implements. It stabbed Earl Strongbow in the thigh just above his knee. It did not appear to be purposeful, but in any event Earl Strongbow felt rage surging in his chest. He wanted to draw his sword and hack the Scottish fool to bits right on the spot. But he restrained himself. His men were not prepared to fight this large mob. It would be a foolish and costly mistake.
He took a look at the wound. It was bleeding a little bit, but it was a minor puncture wound. He had suffered many more serious injuries in his days on the battlefield. Earl Strongbow ignored it.
They moved off the road to let the crowd pass. Earl Strongbow watched them in dejected, frustrated, angry silence. Lady Rowena’s trail had gone cold. He desperately needed a good night’s sleep, perhaps two. He needed a good meal, and then he could think clearly about what his next steps should be. He hoped they would find what they needed at MacEwen’s place.
After the flow of Glasgow citizens subsided, Earl Strongbow led his men northwest for another two hours, dodging in and around the stream of traffic that continued to flow away from Glasgow and Edinburgh. Finally, the exhausted knights came to the crossroads and MacEwen’s farmhouse. It was exactly where the wool merchants had said it would be earlier that day.
MacEwen’s place was a small manor house that had been converted to an inn. It was situated a mere twenty feet back from the road. A wooden sign was nailed to a post in front of the house with the name “MacEwen” on it. Even without the sign, it would have been easy to find because at least ten English fighters, a mix of archers, foot soldiers, and knights, were standing outside deep in conversation, no doubt discussing the day’s exploits.
Earl Strongbow hopped off of his horse. Upon hitting the ground, he felt a twinge of pain from the stab wound and groaned. “Wait here,” he said gruffly to his men. When Earl Strongbow approached the English troops, they fell silent. “My Lord,” they murmured and bowed respectfully. He barely acknowledged them as he walked into MacEwen’s farmhouse.
He found MacEwen inside, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of servants waiting on three long wooden tables of hungry, noisy English soldiers. When MacEwen apologized to Earl Strongbow and said he had no room for eighteen more men and their horses, the earl’s response was stony. “Make room,” he said, handing MacEwen two gold nobles, the highest value coin in all of England. Earl Strongbow was going to have his way.
MacEwen’s eyes popped at the sight of the gold coins. It was nearly six months of income for him. “Of course, my Lord,” MacEwen said with a smile.
20
Rowena could not remember the last time she slept so soundly. Taran’s servants had prepared a warm bath with fresh water, scented with rose petals and lavender oil. The bed in her private chamber was covered with clean linens. She prayed to God, thanking Him for delivering her safely to the castle of Frenich.
By the time Rowena rose, the sun was already up. She found a fresh set of colorful clothes, no doubt left by the chambermaid, hanging on the back of her door. Her nun’s habit had been taken to the laundress. She quickly washed her face and hands in a basin on a dressing table, then slipped into a finely woven linen tunic. A lovely white gown with embroidered blue trim that matched the blue of her eyes went over the tunic.
The clothes hung loosely on her slender frame, though when she fastened the belt around her waist, they looked as if they were made for her. She took Taran’s crucifix out of her bag and attached it to her belt. She would be able to feel it whenever she moved, and touch it any moment she wanted.
She put on a pair of soft, leather turn shoes and tied them secu
rely. She braided her hair and started for the door. She realized she was forgetting something. She went back inside and found her bag on the table next to the basin.
Rowena removed the assorted herbs she had picked from Taran’s garden and spread them on the stone windowsill to speed their drying. With a sigh of relief she found the knife from St. Martha’s in the bottom of the bag. She slung the bag over her shoulder and made her way to the castle hall. Today she would begin delivering on the commitment she made to Taran the day before.
She opened her chamber door and slipped into the passageway to the great hall. Like yesterday, it was bustling with servants going about their assigned tasks and refugees. She saw bread and cheese and jugs of water scattered about on the hall table. She glanced around the hall for Taran, but did not see him. A bite of some bread and cheese would get me going, she thought.
Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Page 15