by Candace Robb
‘A friend escorted us to Elcho Nunnery. From there we joined various companies of farmers and tradesmen on the way, anyone journeying along our path.’
‘No doubt most of them were spies,’ Simon said wearily. ‘You are fortunate to have arrived safely.’
6
DOUBTS
Maus’s endless chatter about fabrics, fashions, beauty preparations had Celia seething with envy, and leaving the tittering maid she headed out to the privy in the backland to think how to lift her mood. She needed some occupation that would remind her that she was far more valuable to Margaret than a mere lady’s maid. Despite the delicacy of her activity in the backland, she spied a neighbour peering at her as she emerged from the flimsy shed shaking out her skirts. The gawker was a woman, which was a relief, but the invasion of privacy put Celia in an even fouler mood than before.
‘Have you never seen a woman relieve herself before?’ she called out, angrily flouncing past the woman who had at least blushed quite vividly.
She needed occupation. Perhaps a walk would clear her mind. She had never experienced such a thing in Dunfermline or Perth, or even Edinburgh, where she’d been living in an inn where drunks were always tottering into the backlands for a piss. But as she walked she thought how the English occupation of the castle, the crowd of armed men, the battle everyone expected at the foot of the outcrop on which they lived had changed the lives of the townsfolk. No wonder they watched strangers so closely.
She discovered she had retraced her earlier steps to Evota the alewife’s house. And who should be just stepping out into the lane but the English soldier who had been there yesterday. Fortunately he had not yet caught sight of her. Withdrawing into the shadows Celia watched him walk past. He was a handsome man, no doubt about it; studying him now she was reminded of someone – there was something in his eyes, and his colouring – pale hair and dark brows and lashes.
But this was no time for idle comparisons. She wondered why he’d returned to Evota’s house. It was impossible for her to have replenished her stock of ale already. So the man had other truck with her. She supposed Evota might be selling sexual favours – or perhaps her daughter was – she had seen the suggestion of breasts in the young woman despite her small stature. Keeping close to house fronts and therefore in shadow, Celia followed the man.
Sir Simon’s comment about spies made Margaret anxious for James. Had they been noted, then followed? Was one of Ada’s servants too talkative? She was also very uneasy about Ada’s behaviour. She was clearly still in love with Sir Simon – or at least sexually aroused by him. And the feeling was mutual. Margaret feared that Ada would forget herself and say something to compromise them, or worse she would decide she was better off supporting her English lover’s king. She had never seen Ada exhibit such nervousness.
While they ate, the topic of their journey was revisited several times, Sir Simon disturbingly keen to learn more about their escorts. Ada was quite convincingly vague and disinterested, busy asking about her children. It seemed they were all well wed but for Peter.
‘And that is my surprise for you,’ said Simon.
‘He is to be wed?’ Ada asked.
Margaret silently applauded Ada’s believable confusion.
‘Wed?’ Simon frowned, then caught her drift and nodded. ‘I’ve confused you. No, he has no time to devote to courting at present, not while he is serving King Edward.’ He smiled, obviously eager for her to guess.
‘Peter is in Scotland?’ Ada held a hand to her heart.
Simon nodded. ‘I should like to introduce him to you.’
‘He is here?’ Her voice quavered.
‘He is.’ Simon looked quite satisfied with himself.
Tears and stammering expressed how overcome Ada was with the news that one of her children was so near.
But that was the last of the act to which Margaret was witness. For suddenly Sir Simon produced the soldier who had escorted them to the castle and suggested that Margaret return to the town while he and Ada enjoyed some time alone.
As she wound her way through the crowd in the castle yard Margaret tried to calm herself with memories of Ada’s strength of character. She must not lose faith in her. Ada was merely playing her role and was not a silly young woman in the first flush of love. She had been quite convincingly surprised by the news of Peter’s presence.
Once outside the castle gates Margaret looked round at the few people abroad despite the sunny afternoon. In this Stirling was much like Edinburgh, lives lived behind shuttered windows, folk hoping unseen was forgotten. In the marketplace on Broad Street she spied Celia hurrying towards Ada’s house.
‘There is my maidservant,’ she told her escort. ‘I’ll join her.’
The soldier bowed to her and took his leave, and Margaret caught Celia before she’d reached the door. Her maid was flushed and out of breath.
‘What have you been doing to be so exhausted?’ Margaret asked.
‘Following the soldier who seems to be wherever I am. He was at the alewife’s again.’
Margaret felt as if her stomach had risen to her throat and she crossed herself. ‘That does not bode well.’
‘No.’ Celia took a deep breath. ‘But I learned nothing. He went straight to the castle gate.’
‘Come. Father Piers might recognise him from your description.’ As they walked she told Celia about the host of men forming down below. ‘I fear for James.’
‘I fear for us all,’ said Celia.
As Margaret stood to one side of Castle Wynd waiting for a troop of foot soldiers to go past so that she and Celia might cross over to the kirk, she only partly listened to her companion’s complaints about Maus and the nosey neighbour; she was going over all that Sir Simon had said in search of evidence that he’d had news from someone who’d followed them on their approach to Stirling, but she could find nothing specific except for his comment about all travellers being spies, and that was something he might have said quite innocently. Her fear left little room in her head for Celia’s complaints, and she dismissed them as her maid’s way of putting the massing army out of her head. However, when she realised what Celia was confessing she was alarmed by the risk she’d taken.
‘Father Piers advised we leave Evota alone for a day. I thought I’d told you that,’ Margaret said.
‘I hadn’t intended to go there,’ Celia said in a peevish tone.
Margaret regretted her sharp response, appreciating Celia’s help. She paused to apologise. ‘I don’t question your intentions, Celia, forgive my temper. I’m worried about Ada, and I confess I haven’t been listening with care.’
Only now did she notice the chill of the late afternoon, the long shadows and how the streets had emptied. She wondered whether this late afternoon trip to the kirk was wise – they were the only women about. She resumed walking, quickening her pace.
‘Why worry about Dame Ada?’ Celia asked breathlessly as she hurried to catch up. ‘She has a lover to protect her.’
‘That is the matter,’ said Margaret. Once they reached the relative safety of the kirk yard she expected to feel calmer, but a chilling flash of her vision of Roger’s fall startled and frightened her. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for the spell to pass.
‘Mistress?’ Celia touched Margaret’s arm. ‘What is it?’
Waving off Celia’s concern – she did not trust her voice – Margaret lifted her face to the sun and took several deep breaths. ‘Just a spell of dizziness,’ she said when she finally felt herself again. ‘I hadn’t realised how frightened I’d been up at the castle.’ The kirk yard seemed peaceful once more, until she glimpsed the edge of a steep outcropping to one side of the graves, then glanced up to the castle on its height. She’d found the site of her visions of Roger’s death. Dear God, keep Roger from this place, I pray you.
‘I was frightened for you,’ said Celia.
Margaret forced a smile. Celia need not know what she’d just realised. ‘Ada is quite the player,
God be thanked.’ She described the tenor of Ada and Simon’s reunion – quietly, for she felt exposed even in the kirk yard.
‘They might become lovers again,’ Celia said. ‘That is unwelcome.’ With her dark brows knit together, she looked as if she were ready to take on the worry for both of them. ‘Do you think she knew she still held him in her heart?’
‘You put it so prettily,’ said Margaret, amused despite the eerie silence. ‘I doubt she knew she still lusted after him.’ She recalled her own unexpectedly passionate reunion with Roger and felt herself blush.
Celia took no notice, already knocking on the door of the priest’s house. But they both jumped as a shriek broke the silence. It seemed to have come from a house in the market square.
‘Where is that clerk?’ Celia said with worried impatience when the door was not opened at once.
‘We are not expected,’ Margaret reminded her, though she, too, was anxious to move inside.
At last the clerk appeared, looking harried as usual, and asked them to follow him to the kirk, where Father Piers would see them in the sacristy after he’d completed some business.
‘The sacristy?’ Margaret asked. ‘Behind the high altar?’
‘The soldiers will not go there,’ explained the clerk.
‘What do you think that shriek was?’ Celia asked in a low voice as they hurried across the yard.
Margaret shook her head. ‘I think I’d rather not know.’
She wished she had returned to the kirk to announce that she’d found Archie. She had to remind herself how unlikely it had been that they would find him straightaway; had it been so simple James would not have needed her here. But she felt adrift and a little frightened. She tried to think what James would do next. For all their careful planning, they’d been unable to see to details because they hadn’t known what she’d find. With the English army gathering below, she wondered how Archie would have avoided being caught down there. To distract herself from unwelcome doubts, she asked Celia about her movement about town.
‘What did you note about Evota and the daughter – was her name Ellen?’
Celia nodded. ‘Yes, Ellen.’
‘Anything that might help us find Archie?’
‘You might find this of no consequence, but they are tiny women – I felt almost tall,’ she grimaced comically.
‘I believe that is the first time you’ve mentioned your size to me.’
Celia shrugged. ‘It’s seldom to the point, is it? But it might be this time.’
Margaret smiled a little at Celia’s earnest expression.
‘I thought Ellen a child,’ she said, ‘but when she stood to rebuke the children – well, she has a mature figure. Do we know how old Archie is?’
Margaret realised she did not. ‘Father Piers calls him a lad, but that is of little help. I wonder whether Evota kens her son’s whereabouts.’
The priest’s clerk reappeared, bobbing his head. ‘Father Piers is at leisure to talk with you now. If you will follow me.’ He led them down the north aisle and into the sacristy.
Father Piers rose from a table strewn with parchment and came forward with an expression of concern. ‘Has something happened that you return so soon?’
Margaret introduced Celia, who explained her concern about the English soldier, describing him with care.
Piers dropped his gaze and thought for a while, fingering the prayer beads hanging from his girdle. Margaret was disappointed when he looked up, shaking his head.
‘I do not think I know him.’
He moved back to his table and settled in his chair, scanning the documents with his eyes as if ready to return to them.
‘Forgive us for taking up your time,’ said Margaret, stung and ready to depart.
But the priest glanced up, shaking his head. ‘No, do stay.’
‘But you are busy.’
He glanced back at the desk. ‘So I am. But I’ve sent my clerk for the woman you wished to meet – the one who provides Archie with information.’
‘Does she live within the castle walls?’ Margaret asked.
‘No, without, on St Mary’s Wynd.’ He glanced at Celia. ‘Your maid can be privy to this?’
‘Yes, Celia is in my confidence.’ Margaret grew a little bolder. ‘This morning you did not wish to speak of the woman – was it because Dame Ada was present?’
Father Piers looked uncomfortable. ‘There is no such thing as too cautious at present. Everyone’s loyalties can be challenged. I pray you, heed what I say, Dame Maggie.’
She nodded.
‘Dame Ada’s liaison,’ he averted his eyes at the word, ‘with Sir Simon is of great concern to me.’
Now there were three of them concerned – four if she counted James, who would have been quite disturbed had he witnessed Ada’s reunion with Simon. Margaret prayed that Ada might remain strong.
‘Now please, sit down,’ said Piers. He told his clerk to serve some watered wine. ‘Forgive me, but it is scarce, and is truly almost gone.’
Margaret had been surprised to be served any in the town, though not at the castle. The English kept themselves supplied. ‘Of course,’ she said as she took a seat.
He picked up some of the documents, then dropped them and came around the table. ‘The matter is out of my hands; I don’t know why I am worrying over it.’
‘Can you speak of it?’
‘It is no secret. The Lord Steward and the Earl of Lennox met with Longshanks’s royal lieutenant – Warenne, Earl of Surrey, the pompous b—’ he covered his mouth, embarrassed. ‘Forgive me, but it has raised my choler that our nobles should try negotiating with Warenne. I fear they are now hesitant to engage the enemy, a sudden timidity on seeing the expanse of the English camps. Wallace and Murray may not have the support they are counting on.’ He raked his long fingers through his thin hair, making it stand up, an uncharacteristic gesture for the fastidious Piers.
Margaret took it as a sign of his distress.
‘I understand that our party made it through the valley with little time to spare before the English troops began massing below,’ said Margaret. ‘But I didn’t know Warenne is already here.’
‘Whatever is to happen will happen soon,’ said Piers. He looked a little relieved at her knowledge of the situation. ‘I wonder whether James knew how close they were on his heels. Perhaps messages from the castle are no longer of much importance.’ He paused, considering it. ‘But we cannot assume that.’ He smoothed his hair and turned his attention to Celia. ‘Tell me what you noticed at Evota’s home.’
He expressed what seemed sincere concern about the English soldier, which Margaret thought odd after seeming disinterested a few minutes earlier.
It was not long before Dame Johanna was announced.
Demurely dressed in a simple gown and white wimple, the woman looked more like a nun than a soldier’s mistress. Sensing her hesitate on seeing strangers, Margaret rose to greet her, introducing herself and Celia.
‘James sent me.’
Johanna visibly relaxed upon hearing that. ‘I am so grateful that you have come to Stirling.’
Margaret guessed that Johanna was a little older than herself. Her smile was the sort that could light up a room, which it was doing at the moment. She was buxom and graceful, with dark brows, blue eyes, and milky white skin with just a sprinkling of scars from some pox – it was small wonder she had the pick of the soldiers.
But the smile was short-lived as Johanna continued, ‘Have you heard? Gordon Cowie the goldsmith has been murdered in his shop. Stabbed in the heart and neck.’
‘The scream we heard,’ said Celia to Margaret.
‘God have mercy on his soul,’ said Father Piers.
Margaret crossed herself and said a silent prayer for the man’s wife, the fine Isabel. She remembered Ada pointing out the goldsmith in the castle yard. ‘Why?’
It was Piers who answered. ‘In faith, I am not surprised by this news. Gordon has angered many in the town by b
uying favoured treatment from the English at the castle. But when did it happen, Johanna?’
‘Not long ago. I heard of it as I came here – they are crying it out in the marketplace.’
‘In daylight?’ Celia whispered. ‘How frightening that a murder could happen in daylight.’
Piers shrugged. ‘I suspect that with the garrison on the move someone must have felt the castle would not bother with a townsman’s death.’ He seemed quite unmoved by the news. Margaret thought perhaps he approved, but as a priest he would never say so.
‘Let us talk of something else,’ said Johanna. ‘Have you found Archie, Dame Maggie?’
‘No.’
‘I’d advised Dame Maggie to wait a day before going to his home,’ Father Piers explained, ‘although Celia had cause to go there today.’
‘I did not see him,’ said Celia.
Johanna sank down on to a bench, shaking her head slowly. ‘It is so unlike him to stay away for so long, and now, with this murder, I fear for him – or us.’
‘Tell Dame Maggie what you fear, Johanna,’ said Piers.
She glanced round at the waiting faces. Margaret could see that the strain of her work for Balliol had etched lines on Johanna’s forehead that belonged to an older woman.
‘Archie has mentioned many things of late that he’s seen within the castle walls. One day he bragged that they have all our meat there and he’d managed to steal a few bites. Once I forgot myself when he mentioned the soldiers’ quarters – I try not to seem too curious – and I asked him how he managed to see them. He said he had been delivering ale for his ma, which I already knew, and I asked no more, although I can’t believe he would deliver to their quarters. Mostly it was the way he said it, as if he had something to hide. He answered too quickly, too sharply. Do you see?’