by Kara Griffin
“Fortunately the lass survived because I’m going to kill her,” Maurice shouted.
“You say our gran went to her brother’s lying out? We should’ve known gran would go when we heard King Edward died.” John shook his head. “She’s a stubborn woman, our gran.”
Maurice grinned. “Aye, I’d wager she spit on his coffin a few times and probably cursed him in hell.”
The Buchanan followers laughed at Maurice’s jest, although Brodin doubted he’d jested at all. They nodded enthusiastically as if it was right that Lady Buchanan cursed her brother. Not that he disagreed, the English king deserved to be cursed.
“I would that you escort Dallis and your gran home.” Brodin stood firmly, unintimidated by the eldest brother’s arrogance.
Maurice circled him and glared at all those about. He stopped before him and poked his chest. “Who are you to be telling us what to do with our kin?”
“I’m Brodin Grant. Your sister and I are … close.”
Allan and John hooted.
Maurice pushed his brothers back. “Just how close? Have ye gone and soiled her? Tell me nay right now or I’ll be putting my sword somewhere in your warm body.”
When Brodin didn’t answer quickly enough, Maurice pulled his sword from its scabbard. Likewise did all those standing near. “You shall die this day, Grant.”
Brodin held his sword at the ready for his attack. “I care greatly for your sister. And as to dying, I shall soon enough.”
“You care about our lass?” Maurice scoffed. “Yet you didn’t wed her, did you? Without our permission? Aye, give me more reason to gullet ye.”
“There hasn’t been time to wed,” he replied drolly.
“There’s time now,” John said. “We can fetch the clergy.”
“What do you mean die soon enough? Are you ailing? Or does someone else want you dead?” Allan asked and laughed as if the thought of someone else wanting him dead was comical.
Brodin tried to follow along when the Buchanans began questioning him. He shook his head in answer to Allan’s question and jumped back when Maurice ran at him. His sword raised high.
“You’ll die this day. No one insults a Buchanan.”
Brodin deflected Maurice’s attack, but the man was relentless in his pursuit to kill him. He did his best to sidestep the man’s thrust and sweeps, and to keep himself from being pierced. The last thing he wanted to do was retaliate and upset Dallis. He should’ve asked if she’d cared for her brothers. That would’ve been wise before he inflicted damage. He wouldn’t raise his sword no matter how much the shanty enticed him.
As if he conjured her, Dallis appeared from the vines and shouted loud enough to be heard in the farthest reaches of the Highlands. “Put down your swords.”
Maurice in mid-strike knocked him off his feet. The man’s blade pinched his neck. If Brodin took one deep breath, it would be his end. He stilled and waited for the man to pull back. But he didn’t.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end him?”
She glared and put her hands on hips. “Because I love him.” She put her hand on his arm and forced her brother to lower his arm. “If you harm him, I shall never forgive you.”
Maurice wouldn’t take his eyes from him; his mien threatening. “I might be able to live with that.”
“I deem she means it,” John said.
“Aye, ye ken how stubborn the lass can be,” Allan said. “Takes after our gran, she does.”
Maurice stepped back. “You’re a brave lass to be testing my restraint.”
Brodin rolled to his side, took a deep breath and got to his feet.
At once, everyone started shouting their position.
Brodin’s head thumped from the boisterous go-between. The Buchanans didn’t talk, they shouted, bellowed every word. He was about to do a wee bit of shouting himself until the brothers stood around Dallis and blocked his view of her.
Maurice pulled her arm and yanked her away from him. “You’ll marry the man. I will hear no argument. You professed to love him.”
Dallis stomped on her brother’s foot. “I won’t have him forced to wed me. Besides—”
All silenced when their gran marched with vigor from the cave. She waggled her finger at the burly Buchanans and her eyes blazed with anger. “You leave the lass be.”
“I’m laird now since da never returned from his imprisonment in England. It is my right to settle the lass. If this miscreant soiled her, then he shall make it right.” Maurice folded his arms and stood firm in his decision.
Lady Buchanan flapped her hands and beat the elder brother until he stepped back. “She won’t be wedding the man. Now we shall leave this day. Go on, prepare yourselves.” She pointed to their horses.
Her brothers lowered their heads and walked away somberly.
Her gran set an arm around Dallis’ shoulder. “Say your goodbyes, lass, and we shall go.” She left her and approached Annag.
“This is it,” Dallis spoke so low, he barely heard her. “… the last time I shall see—”
“Shhh. Let us not say farewell, but I will see you.” Brodin embraced her. He didn’t want to let her go but knew he had to. “I would marry you, lovely, and it wouldn’t take the pointy end of a sword to make me do so.”
She gazed at him through tear-filled eyes. “You would?”
“Aye, without reservations. But I won’t have you mourning a dead husband. My last thoughts will be of you.” He pressed his hand on her cheek.
“You mean before …”
“Aye, before I draw my last breath. Don’t be sad. Be well, be joyous. Find happiness. Remember your promise to find a husband, bear children …”
“I never promised. Don’t forget me, Brodin.” She kissed his mouth even though her brothers sent glares their way.
Brodin had to pry her arms free. “Never.” He pulled a medallion from inside his tunic. He’d etched with her name, similar to those he made for his comrades and pressed it into her hand. “I made this for you. Keep it as a token of my love.”
“I won’t ever forget you.” She turned and peered at her gran and turned back. “What do I do about him?” Her gran held Flora’s bairn.
Brodin took hold of her hand and leaned close to whisper in her ear. She nodded and walked away. He stood by his comrades and scowled at the Buchanans who glared at him with enough vigor to light a fire to his tartan.
Dallis took the bairn from her gran and hastily walked to Makenna. “You’ve always cared for him and he is only content when you are near. I know how much you love him as do your lasses.”
Makenna took the babe and held him against her chest. “Dallis, really? You would give him to me? But he belongs to your clan.”
“Nay, Flora would want someone to love him as you do. Her family likely won’t take him in and who knows where I’ll end. I want him to be safe and cared for. You’re the best mother I know. I know this won’t make up for your … loss, and I don’t deem to replace …” She lowered her gaze, shamed by bringing up the woeful subject.
“Losing our bairn was God’s will. We shall care for Benny as if he is our very own.” She cuddled the bairn in her arms and smiled.
Dallis kissed the bairn’s head and waved to the ladies. “Farewell, my friends.”
It took all Brodin’s will not to run after her. The Buchanans rode from the caves without farewell. He stood outside the cave for hours until light swathed the land, staring in the direction she rode. The sun shone brightly and sent a yellow glow over the land. Even though the day promised to be pleasant, he was miserable.
Somehow he’d hold on to her, even if it was only in his heart. She’d come into his life and he was a better man for it.
Chapter Nineteen
By midday, the women and children were ready to travel to their homes. Brodin commiserated with his comrades, for all of them were glum and full of woe. The tearful goodbyes from the women and children deeply affected him for Brodin knew how much his brethren c
ared for their families. He came to care for them as well and considered them his family.
While his comrades dealt with the departures, he readied their horses, stockpiled their weapons and mixed the soot and oil they used for camouflage. He kept busy and tried not to think of Dallis who had to be hours away by now.
The last to leave was Kerrigan. She was the only woman to seek him out.
“Brodin, promise you’ll visit when this is over?”
He closed his saddlebag and approached her. Brodin wasn’t one to be sentimental, but Kerrigan was as close to a sister as one could be. He hugged her and agreed even though it was unlikely he’d live to visit.
“Will you check on Dallis and ensure she reached home? I … only want her happiness.” It was as much as he would say without getting a wee bit choked up.
“I will. Worry not. I should go before I change my mind. Knowing you these past years has brought me more pleasure than I deserve.”
He tweaked her nose. “We were fortunate the day Graeme brought you to the caves even though you were a Campbell.”
She laughed at his jest, for their clans’ feud would never come between them. “Farewell,” she said and sauntered off to the wagon that held her children, Annag, and their possessions. The lad sent from Friar Hemm rode ahead of them and lifted his hat.
Brodin returned to his chores and waited for his comrades. They meandered in the ossuary and all went about removing their horses without a word. None would speak what each was thinking. He wouldn’t put a voice to his regrets either.
They rode out, none looking back at the place they’d called home for years. Brodin wanted to catch up to James. Hopefully, he journeyed to the abbey. He shouldn’t be ireful with his comrade because he told James to bring the Buchanans. The only thing that bothered him was that James took pleasure in Brodin’s set back with the temperamental Buchanans. Still, he’d survived it. Their arrived couldn’t have come at a better time. At least he was comforted that Dallis was escorted home by her brothers. Her safe arrival at home was assured and he need not worry.
By the time they reached the abbey, night fell. On their approach, Brodin regarded the fires lit around the abbey walls. The lane leading to the sanctuary was active. Highlanders traveled to join the Bruce’s forces. Word must’ve spread of the impending battle.
Friar Hemm waited for them at the stables. He waved forth his stable lads to tend to their horses. “Welcome. James said you’d be by. Come, rest yourselves.”
“You have many travelers passing through.” Brodin noticed groups of various clans sitting around the fires, some wrestled, and some practiced arms. Most sat quietly or slumbered.
“Aye, and it’s all we can do to provide a small meal and a night’s sleep before they continue the journey.” Friar Hemm waved them onward.
“Are they intent to reach Robert and his army?”
“They are. I’m gladdened to see you. I have news to impart.” Friar Hemm led them through the massive hall where imposing religious statues stared down at them from their perches.
Once inside the friar’s office, he slammed the door closed. “Sit. I will send for wine in a moment, but first my news.”
Brodin couldn’t sit. Neither could the friar. He paced behind his desk in an excited state which was unusual. The friar never exhibited an overzealous attitude regardless of what news he had to share. He was ruffled all right.
Graeme, Liam, and Heath took chairs around the desk.
“What news? Is James here?”
Hemm ceased pacing and glanced at him. “He was, but only briefly. There was a missive from Robert awaiting him and indicated he should make haste and meet the king near Stirling.”
“Robert is at Stirling? But the English still occupy the fief. Has he retaken it?”
“Aye the English still occupies the holding, and nay he’s laid siege to it, but not retaken. Robert’s brother and his army have disallowed supplies from reaching the castle for weeks. Those within will bend to his will soon.”
“Did the English surrender?” Brodin was in awe of the news. This could be the matter which might once and for all settles their detraction from England.
Hemm shook his head. “Nay, but Sir Philip Mowbray sent a message to Robert saying he would vacate the castle and its grounds around the 24th of June.”
“Why so specific a date?” Liam asked. “That’s odd given it’s only a fortnight from now.”
“Robert’s spies found out that a rider hightailed to call for English reinforcements. Somehow Mowbray was able to send a messenger. The reinforcements are expected to arrive by the 24th. If they don’t arrive by then, the English will have to abscond and leave the castle.”
Graeme grimaced. “If the reinforcements come in time, a battle will ensue.”
“I’m certain the king is well aware of the threat. A call to arms went out. All able-bodied men are to report to Stirling to support Robert.” Friar Hemm wiped his brow with a cloth. “Let us hope the English do not come.”
“Let them come. We will finally show them that Scotland is united,” Liam said.
“Aye we don’t fear the English,” Brodin said.
Friar Hemm clicked his tongue. “You do realize many might die if such a battle takes place. England has a large army, many infantrymen that must number in the thousands, hundreds of horsemen. Let alone the archers …”
“We all die eventually,” Heath said. “We might as well do it fighting the English.”
Hemm nodded for he too knew Heath’s conviction that all men should die honorably in battle. His ancient tradition might very well come true. Brodin scoffed and shoved his shoulder.
“Let us hope the dissension in England deters many of the nobles and their armies from coming to Mowbray’s assistance. I’ve been praying constantly that the good lord help prevails us.”
“Keep praying, Friar. We will need your prayers,” Heath said.
“We now ken where to go. Let us head toward Stirling and find Robert’s army,” Graeme said. “Even if we’re unable to meet with the king, we can aid in the fight.”
“Are you sure you want to? Are you not hiding from the king?”
“Nay, Friar not anymore,” Graeme said. “When your lads return from escorting our wives home, will you send a message to us? We will be relieved to ken they reached home.”
“Aye, I’ll include missives with any messages I send to Robert. You are welcome to stay the night and take rest before your journey. I did promise you wine.”
Graeme waved them onward. “Our thanks, Friar; we’ll take a cask to go. We’ll make camp along the way. It is best we arrive as soon as we can, especially if Robert is set on attacking Stirling.”
“I will send a messenger straight away when my lads return. Go with God my friends.” Friar Hemm led them to the stable and waved a lad forward who held two casks of wine.
Brodin added the casks to his saddlebag and they headed out. He took the lead. To keep his mind from thinking about Dallis, he focused on the trail again. Nearly three hours later, he signaled to a small clearing and they stopped to take rest. He retrieved the soot and oil mixture and applied it wherever his skin shown. With the weather warm, he rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and ensured he was well covered. When he finished, he handed the container to Graeme.
“We should make sure we’re covered entirely. Let us have a look at each other. I don’t want the king to see us before we’re ready to be seen,” Graeme said.
Heath took the soot from Graeme and poured a good amount in his hands and swiped it over his face. By the time Heath finished, he blended in the night. The soot mixture was a war tactic handed down from Graeme’s grandfather and one that aided them throughout many a battle.
Brodin nodded to Graeme. “This is the best camouflage yet for I’ve mixed in a wee bit of woad powder.”
“Aye, you should’ve heard my grand da tell the story about the tribe he learned it from. It’s rather interesting, but the way he told it enthralle
d all within my clan. People feared the Germanics and they called them the ghost warriors. I imagine we’re just as frightful.” He chuckled at his jest.
Liam grinned and his teeth glowed in the darkness. “Aye, we’ve heard the tale many a time now. I say we’re a good likeness for we look akin to ghosts right now.”
Brodin recapped the container and tossed it in his saddle bag. “We’ll need to make more before we reach the king.”
“I’m already sweating it off. James’ followers will likely want to use it as well. The last time we fought with them they insisted on replicating our methods.”
Liam laughed. “Mayhap they’re already covered with the soot.”
“Let us onward to the king.” Brodin was anxious to encounter Robert’s army. Finally meeting the king and gaining his sentence was most welcome. The battle was an added bonus.
Their ride toward Stirling continued in silence. For years they’d contemplated a meeting with the king and soon they’d be face to face with their sovereign. Brodin led the way, deep in thought of what Robert would say to them. He’d commiserated the king’s speech for so long but doubted the king would say what he’d hoped. The farther north they rode, the more reserved they became. None would dare intrude on the solitude of their thoughts.
In the wee hours and darkness of the morn, they arrived south of Stirling, near Bannock where the king’s encampment waited. Robert amassed a large army for all one could see were tents, flags, fires … Many clans came at the king’s call to arms. He recognized the banners of various Highland clans and noted the brave lowlanders who might’ve sided once with England.
Brodin kept watch for James and his band of men. They must’ve appeared formidable, riding into the encampment, concealed with their soot, for many of the soldiers moved back and allowed their passage. Ahead, he spotted James who stood by the fire. He and his men indeed were covered with soot. James’ followers stood and greeted them with nods. When they reached their comrade, Brodin jumped from his horse and outstretched his hand.