The Mark of Salvation

by Carol Umberger

  She continued to crouch before the fire, poking at it now and then. “King Edward was convinced that Bruce could not beat him in a pitched battle. John was to receive . . . Scottish lands upon the victory. I came with him so that we might occupy the castle immediately.” Her shoulders stooped a bit more. “This castle,” she whispered.

  Her obvious distress overwhelmed him. “I’m sorry, Orelia. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”What should he do? How could he comfort her? He knelt beside her and laid his hand on her shoulder, his fingers brushing the thick braid of golden hair. She reached up, still staring into the fire, and placed her small hand on top of his fingers. His heart raced. But he dared not remove his hand and take away whatever comfort she felt from it.

  Then her words struck him full force. “This castle? Edward planned to give Dunstruan to your husband?”

  He felt her take a deep breath, then she twisted to face him and their hands parted from their resting place. The room seemed colder somehow.

  She wiped a tear from her eye. “Yes, Dunstruan.”

  “Father, have mercy,” he said under his breath. How could she stay here, knowing if her husband had lived this would have been their home?

  She looked at him strangely. “I thought you didn’t pray, Ceallach.”

  He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “A force of habit, nothing more.”

  Her expressive face and eyes were full of questions, but to his relief, she let it be. “It’s all right, being at Dunstruan. I have made peace with God over John’s death and my sojourn here. I believe God has a purpose, a blessing that will come of my hardship. In fact, I am sure of it.”

  “I am amazed at your ability to see good in such a tragic situation.” She amazed him and disturbed him—disturbed that buried piece of him that used to know how to love and be loved. Something near his heart warmed like the flame she had coaxed from the fireplace.

  “It’s easy to feel blessed when life is going well, Ceallach. Not so easy when it feels like God has deserted you. I confess, in those first days after John’s death that’s exactly how I felt.”

  “And now?” Did he really want to hear what she had to say? Would her words brand him as weak?

  “Now? Now I see God’s hand in my decision to accompany John. We had no hope of having children—having a son—so we came here to expand John’s holdings. John wanted his younger brother to take on more responsibility for the inheritance that would eventually be his.”

  She stood up and smiled again and he thought it strange. “My husband was told he couldn’t father children. A childhood fever, you understand.”

  “A fever.” He nodded although he wasn’t altogether sure what a fever had to do with begetting children. Still, he certainly wasn’t going to ask for an explanation of such a subject from her.

  “John was wrong not to believe that God would hear our prayers for a child.”

  Ceallach stood also, uncomfortable with looking up at her as she paced. “Wrong?”

  Turning to face him, she fingered the cross she’d taken from her husband’s body. “John’s last words to me were a reminder that no matter what happens, I am not alone.”Tears ran down her cheeks but instead of wiping at them she placed her hands on her stomach. “My faith has sustained me and I have been blessed. In this John could not have been more right.”

  Ceallach couldn’t quite grasp her meaning. “What are you saying, Orelia?

  Beaming with obvious happiness she said, “I am carrying John’s child, Ceallach. A miracle and a sign of God’s gracious love.”

  Ceallach could only stare at her. Her prayers had certainly been answered and he was happy for her. But she was carrying another man’s child. The tiny flame near his heart sputtered and nearly went out.

  ORELIA YAWNED and pulled her nightdress close to ward off the chill. The fire had burned down again. How long had she been talking with Ceallach? And why did he stare at her so? “Now you will understand why I am anxious to return to England.”

  He seemed to come out of a trance. “Of course. You must claim the child’s inheritance.”

  She glanced at the window opening. “It will soon be light. Perhaps I will return to my bed and rest a bit more.”

  “Yes, of course.” His voice sounded strange.

  She looked at him. “But you will not.”

  “Nay, I’m done for the night. Go on. I’ll keep watch.”

  What a strange thing for him to say. ’Twas only the wind causing trouble tonight. But she did find it reassuring to know that he would keep them safe. “Thank you for keeping me company, Ceallach. For letting me talk about John. It eases the pain to remember him. And to think ahead to the joy of having his child to raise.”

  She started for the stairs when he called to her. “Orelia?”

  She turned back to him.

  Looking decidedly uncomfortable he asked, “Would you add some more peat to the fire?”

  “If I don’t, you will sit here in the cold, won’t you?”

  He didn’t answer, and she wondered about his aversion to tending the fire. She walked back and after building up the flames she looked at the scar on his neck.

  One of the kitchen servants at Radbourne had been burned in a cooking accident and her skin had looked much like this. How had Ceallach received this mark? He’d looked stricken when she’d first seen him tonight, as if he’d seen a spirit. What secrets did he hide? Remembering his look of terror, did she really want to know? “Some day I would like to hear your story, Ceallach.”

  “My story?”

  “Why you fear the fire. How you came to have those scars on your back.”

  She saw his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. But he didn’t look as despairing as he had earlier. Orelia was drawn to the big man. His size and quiet dignity gave shelter without realizing, without awareness. Like a shade tree giving shade simply by existing.

  “Goodnight, Orelia.”

  She would not get an explanation tonight. But one day soon, she would insist. “Goodnight, Ceallach.”

  She climbed the stairs to her chamber pondering the fact that she had made a number of friends here among her enemies. Eveleen, Morrigan, and perhaps Ceallach, too. How could she explain the comfort she drew from his presence? He asked for nothing in return, was unaware of his affect on her. So she gave him the only gift she could, a smile she hoped conveyed her appreciation. Gentle reminders that God still loved him, no matter what had happened to make Ceallach think otherwise.

  The wind had died down, and she crept quietly to her room. Before climbing under the covers, she knelt and said a prayer for Ceallach, that he might find peace from whatever plagued him from the past. And with her hand on her stomach, she prayed for the safety of the future she carried.

  NlNE

  Each brother knight is alIowed three horses; at the discretion of the Order his squire may have one also.

  —from the Rule of the Templar Knights

  Morrigan once said that the love of a woman might heal me. For a time I hoped that woman might be Orelia, that perhaps she would stay at Dunstruan. But it cannot be. She carries a reminder of the life she left in England.

  Even were it not for the babe, Orelia wouldn’t want a man as scarred and weak as I am. The scars on my body are not the worst of it. Those I can hide from sight. ’Tis the scars on my heart that I fear will never heal.

  Especially if Orelia leaves Dunstruan.

  ANOTHER WEEK WENT BY, nearly six weeks since the battle, and still there was no word from Bruce that the prisoner exchange had been arranged. Knowing that Orelia was anxious to go home and why it was important for her to do so, Ceallach sent Fergus to Stirling to find the cause of the delay.

  While they waited for Fergus to return, Ceallach and Orelia and even Morrigan prepared the wool for spinning. First the wool was sorted according to fiber length. Long-fibered fleece made the best yarn for the hard cloth with its tight weave that could keep out all but the worst weather.

  Wh
ile Orelia and the other women pulled handfuls of the sorted wool through a coarse metal comb, Ceallach prepared the large loom with warp threads. There was sufficient yarn from last year to weave a good amount of cloth. The weaving hut filled with the women’s chatter and Ceallach discovered with some surprise that he enjoyed their company.

  When Fergus hadn’t returned within three days time, Ceallach worried that Edward of England had returned or some other calamity had befallen Scotland’s king. Ceallach would have to go to Stirling himself. But late the afternoon of the fourth day Fergus rode into the bailey.

  Everyone gathered around to hear what he had to say. The poor man barely had time to dismount from his horse before the questions started.

  Ceallach waded into the group. “What delayed you, Fergus?”

  “Nothing serious, but it will take some telling. May I have a drink for my parched throat before I begin the tale?”

  “Of course,” Ceallach said, relieved that at least war hadn’t broken out again.

  They sat at a table in the main hall. Morrigan brought bread and drink and then sat beside Fergus as he explained his delay. “When I arrived at Stirling, they were beginning to tear down the castle. I learned that Bruce had moved his headquarters to Dunfermline Abbey and so I had to ride there.”

  Ceallach nodded in agreement with Bruce’s choice. “The abbey has accommodations fit for a king.”

  Fergus set down his mug. “And a queen. Bruce is anticipating the arrival of his wife—he asked you to come to Dunfermline.”

  “What of the Englishwoman? Is she to go with me?”

  “Aye. Bruce expects to exchange the prisoners any day.”

  Ceallach, Orelia, Morrigan and Fergus left Dunstruan the next day and set out for Dunfermline Abbey, a dozen or so miles east of Bannockburn. The abbey had ample accommodations for royalty and guests, having been used as an occasional royal residence since the days of Malcolm Canmore, three centuries past.

  The trip was uneventful and when they arrived at the abbey, Ceallach escorted Orelia to her chamber. Knowing she would be anxious for news, he said, “I will return as soon as I can. You should probably rest.”

  “I’ll try.”

  He left her, not at all sure how he felt about leaving her for good. One thing he did know—he would miss her company.

  Fergus and Morrigan had gone off to see about purchasing some horses, and Ceallach went to find Bruce.

  “Ceallach, welcome. It’s good to see you again. How are things at Dunstruan?”

  “Your Majesty.” Ceallach bowed. “Dunstruan is doing well. I brought the Englishwoman with me. Fergus said you’d arranged for her release?”

  Bruce’s face clouded. “So I thought. I have only just received a letter from Edward of England.” Bruce held a piece of parchment aloft and shook it in the air. “Not only is the wretch ungrateful that I returned his shield and seal, he refuses to agree to terms for peace. And he has reneged on the agreement to exchange the prisoners.”

  Robert stopped and stood very still, obviously on the verge of completely loosing his temper and taking his frustration out on his guest.

  Into the quiet Ceallach softly said, “I am sorry to hear that, my laird. Especially about the queen.”

  Bruce pinched his forehead with the fingers of his left hand and bowed his head, eyes closed. “Eight years. He’s held my wife prisoner for eight years, Ceallach.”

  Ceallach wondered what it must be like, to miss a woman so. It was just as well that he would never know, for the blessing of love could easily turn to a curse. Bruce lifted his head and pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand. “I’m done with patience, Ceallach. If this is how Edward reacts to my gesture of conciliation, then he and his people shall taste my anger.”

  “You will invade England?”

  “Aye. I’ve sent for Douglas and Bryan. We are going to harass the northern English towns—Edward’s subjects will pay for his arrogance. They will know the displeasure of the king of Scotland.”

  Ceallach said nothing as he considered the wisdom of taking part in these forays into English territory. “How far south will you go, my laird?”

  “Not far enough, in truth. If we want to hit Edward where it would do the most damage to him, we would need to go as far south as London. The northern provinces don’t have the population or political clout of London and its surrounding shires.”

  “But you can’t get to him there without risk of capture, so you think that if we strike hard enough and often enough in the north we can still get Edward’s attention?”

  “Aye. The northlands are poorly defended—we’ll be able to plunder at will as long as we stay away from the garrison at Carlisle.”

  Ceallach nodded. It could work. Aside from the goods and beasts they would capture, they might put enough political pressure on Edward to force him to let Bruce’s women go.

  “You needn’t worry about capture, Ceallach. We’ll ride fast, strike quickly and be gone before the English army can ride north to respond.”

  Ceallach thought of the work that needed to be done at Dunstruan. But Devyn and the others were more than capable of handling it while Ceallach was gone. “I’ll send Fergus and the women back to Dunstruan. I wouldn’t mind tugging at Edward’s nose, so long as he is far away.”

  “You still have a price on your head, Ceallach. I would understand if you didn’t want to do this.”

  Ceallach grinned. “So when do we leave?”

  Bruce clapped him on the back and laughed. “As soon as Bryan gets here.”

  Bryan Mackintosh arrived two days later and Bruce immediately called a meeting with his lieutenants. Ceallach, Bryan, and Douglas stood in the king’s solar.

  “We will leave in two days’ time. Ceallach will see to the horses— make sure they are in good health. Douglas, I need you to oversee provisioning, and Bryan will see to the weapons.”

  Bryan said, “Are you planning to go with us, Your Majesty?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Much as I hate to deprive you of the fun of sleeping on the ground and eating cold oat cakes, it might be best if you stayed here,” Bryan said.

  Bruce was scowling in a way that clearly said he wouldn’t entertain an argument on the subject. But Bryan forged ahead anyway, and Ceallach suppressed a chuckle. Robert’s son took after him in many ways, and just now the younger man’s tenacity probably wasn’t appreciated.

  “Explain yourself, stripling.”

  Undeterred by the king’s obvious displeasure, Bryan explained. “Our purpose is to gain Edward’s attention and focus it on the plight of his Scottish prisoners. If you are not party to these raids, then when Edward complains to you of them, you can promise to punish the culprits.”

  Bruce stared at him a moment. “I can claim the raids weren’t sanctioned, in other words.”

  “Aye, and promise there will be no more raids if he releases your queen.”

  Ceallach saw the wisdom in this. “If Edward still refuses to negotiate Elizabeth’s release, we can continue raiding. You could even lead the next raid to make your point.”

  “Your suggestion is a good one, Bryan. Since I don’t know anything about this planned raid, you may leave whenever you are ready. And be careful.”

  That last sounded more like a concerned father than a king, and Ceallach thought again of the price Bruce and his family had paid for his crown.

  Three days later Ceallach, Bryan, Douglas, and a group of about sixty men set off for England, entering the country at Norham castle, just south of the border. As they skirted around the imposing keep, Bryan said, “Kathryn was held prisoner there earlier this year.”

  “I’d heard something to that affect. How did you get her out?”

  “We were lucky—her kidnapper moved her and I was able to ambush them and free her.”

  They camped that night north of Newburn, and Bryan called all the men together. “I want to be sure that the objectives of our raiding are clear to a
ll of you. We will burn crops, destroy settlements, and steal livestock. Whatever we can’t carry off to Scotland is to be destroyed.”

  Ceallach asked, “What if we are offered a ransom to leave a place in peace?”

  Bryan grinned. “We will gladly accept cash donations to the King of Scotland’s treasury.”

  The men laughed and Bryan continued. “There will be no looting or robbery once a ransom is paid. The English won’t pay if they can’t trust us to keep the truce they pay for. Is that understood?”

  Heads nodded in agreement.

  “We will stay clear of castles—they will have trained men at arms who could make life difficult for us. Instead we’ll visit manors, villages, and monasteries.”

  The next day they rode south to Newburn and stayed there three days, unhindered by English soldiers. From there Bryan led them to Newcastle where he offered to leave the town alone for a ransom payment. When the town leaders refused, Bryan ordered the men to burn buildings and crops and intimidate the town just as William Wallace had done in 1297.

  Ceallach enjoyed being on campaign, especially as it became increasingly clear that the English could not put up any sort of defense. And even more because there was no loss of life. He and the rest of the Scottish marauders continued south to Durham where the residents wisely paid Bryan not to destroy their crops and buildings.

  Following the old Roman road, they swept through the valleys and carried off cattle. Ceallach had a few anxious moments as they neared Carlisle’s garrison of trained troops, but the Scots were able to relieve the garrison of sixteen fine horses before heading north and burning the towns of Brough, Appleby, and Kirkoswald. Returning home they trampled crops along the way with the stolen cattle and horses.

  Upon their return to Scotland, Robert congratulated them on a job well done. Ceallach helped distribute the livestock and other goods he and the others brought back.

  Anxious for the return of his wife, Bruce sent an envoy to Edward, demanding terms. Ceallach and all of Scotland were well aware that the longer Robert and Elizabeth were separated, the longer it would be until they produced a male heir. Now that she was a mature woman, her childbearing days were dwindling and the monarchy lay in peril.