Strange, she could see banners flying, too. And knights on horseback. But whose knights? She simply could not see far enough to be sure of anything, and she was near crazed with anxiety.
Down below, she could see her husband and his men as they mounted. Why on earth were they mounted if they were to defend Questing from the inside? Something was strangely amiss, she could sense it, and her curiosity was overcoming her fear.
“This is madness,” she muttered.
Jemma, standing next to her, looked at her cousin. “War always is.”
Jordan shook her head. “No, I mean there are knights in armor riding up with the army. And they are flying banners, English banners, I think,” she pointed down into the outer bailey. “And why are William and Kieran mounted? They should be on the walls.”
Jemma shook her head slowly. “I dunna know. ’Tis most curious.”
Jordan pursed her lips. “Curious, indeed,” she said with a cocked brow. “I intend to find out what’s going on.”
Jemma shrugged, she was always up for disobeying her husband. He had told her to stay put in the rooms, and she would do the exact opposite. “I am coming.”
Leaving the children with the nurses, they left the master chamber and made their way down two huge flights of stairs to the massive front door. There was not a servant to be seen anywhere and no one to oppose them as they opened the front door and went out into the inner bailey.
As they knew, the giant gate was closed, separating the inner and outer baileys, and they furthermore knew that no amount of coaxing would open it. Therefore, they mounted the steps that led to the tall inner wall, which was taller than the outer wall by several feet, and it allowed them an excellent view of the scene below.
There were at least two soldiers upon the wall, looking at the women with a mixture of curiosity and fear, but no one wanted to be the one to tell them to leave. The Wolf’s wife was answerable only to him, and the captain’s wife would probably punch the teeth out of the first man to order her back inside. Resigned, they tried to hover around them as they walked the wall to create a sort of human shield should any fighting start.
Jordan and Jemma ignored the soldiers and leaned over the wall, observing what was transpiring below. They heard a lot of shouting and saw a good deal of movement. Then, to their surprise, the outer gates slowly began to swing open.
William had recognized Northwood’s banner as soon as it came into view, and wondered what in the hell the army was doing mingled with a sizable Scot force. It made his head hurt with confusion as he wracked his brain to determine a reasonable answer, but he could not think of one. He knew there was virtually no possibility of an attack now and he ordered the gates open so he could find out personally what in the hell Paris was up to.
Slowly, his beautiful new gates swung open and his knights charged from the opening as fast as lightning, tearing down the road and skirting around the village, and finally plunged into the field the approaching army was invading.
They noticed that the army had come to a halt, and the closer they came the more they began to notice the many different tartans represented, with Northwood’s banner sailing over them. Was it a ploy? William wondered, yet he saw English soldiers.
Familiar armored figures raced to meet them. The two groups of knights and warhorses nearly collided in their eagerness, intermingling with one another as the excited horses screamed and tried to bite at each other, convinced they were in a battle.
William flipped up his visor. “Paris?”
Paris was next to him, raising his faceplate. “Always a pleasure, William.”
William scowled. “What in the hell is going on?”
“You are not going to believe this,” Paris said, wrestling with his animal. “The Scots showed up on Northwood’s doorstep last evening demanding to see Thomas Scott. I thought we were in for another bloody war when they explained that their intentions were purely peaceful. They want to talk to him, and to Matthew.”
William glanced over at the Scot forces. “Why all the men if they simply want to talk? And why in the hell are you here with your troops as escort?”
“In case they lied and were truly intent on attacking Thomas, we came along to assure you would be reinforced,” Paris said with a smirk. “Looking over their shoulder, as it were. As for all of the men, I believe that is meant to be a show of support for the Scotts. If you will notice, there is quite a bit of Scott tartan out there. But, in faith, I spent a good portion of last night talking to the clan chiefs and I believe they are sincere. They want to apologize.”
“Apologize?” William repeated incredulously. “For what? For destroying the man’s fortress, for killing his kin? That’s ludicrous.”
Paris nodded. “Possibly. But let Thomas be the judge. No harm will come to him, or to your wife’s family, to simply talk.”
William was angry now. Did the clans think that a simple apology could ease the pain and heartache they had caused? It wasn’t only ludicrous, it was insane. He realized how protective he was over Thomas and the rest of Jordan’s kin, but he didn’t dwell on it. If he had, he would have found it astounding that he should have protective instincts over those he had spent a good portion of his life fighting, and of the enemy that was now his family.
He had a decision to make.
It wasn’t a difficult one. This was not his war, and Thomas was the only one who could accept or refuse the apology. The damage had been done to him, not to William. He wondered vaguely if the apology were refused if they would not find themselves in the middle of another battle.
“Very well,” William said after a moment. “Have the clan chiefs assemble and I shall go get Thomas.”
Paris nodded with a smile and sent Ranulf off.
William turned tail and roared into the outer bailey. Thomas, Matthew, Cord and Ian were up on the wall and he motioned them down. As he waited for them to descend the stairs, his gaze habitually roved the walls making sure his men were properly positioned, when his sight suddenly came to rest on a very familiar, very blond female head on the inner wall. More irritated than angry, he reined his horse over near the wall.
“Jordan?” he yelled in exasperation.
Her beautiful face gazed timidly down at him. “Hello, English,” she greeted innocently.
He rolled his eye with resignation. He should have expected her not to stay put with so many tartans approaching, and he was not surprised to see Jemma looking down at him, as well.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Looking at the Scots,” she said obviously. “What are ye doing? What’s going on?”
William thought a moment. If there was any apologizing to be done, his wife would receive one, too. For everything that had been said about her and done to her, for all of the hatred the clans bore her simply because she had done what was asked of her. By damn, if they wanted to apologize, let them apologize to her, too.
He flicked his finger to one of the men next to the gate. “Open the gate,” he ordered, then looked back up at his wife. “Come down here. Jemma, you too.”
Their heads disappeared and they came running through the gate about the same time Thomas and the others reached him. Six pairs of curious Scott eyes looked up at him expectantly.
“In all my years of a fighting man, I have never heard of this,” William said with a shake of his head. “That army out there is comprised of several clans that showed up at Northwood yesterday looking for you, Thomas.”
Thomas was not surprised but his stomach took a dive. “To kill me, I am sure.”
William shook his head hard. “Nay, my lord, not to kill you. To apologize.”
Thomas glanced at his kin in shock. “Apologize?”
“Aye,” William answered. “Would you and your kin ride out with me?”
Someone went to retrieve mounts for the Scotts as Jordan came off the wall and approached her husband. She had heard most of what he had said.
“English, what do ye
mean?” She was afraid for her father. “Surely they are lying and just want to get at him.”
“Nay, love, Paris seems to think they are sincere,” he said. “But, to be sure, he brought along Northwood’s army as support for our own in case the Scots entertain the thought of changing their minds. We would outnumber them two to one.”
Jordan sighed reluctantly, glancing around him to look out at the distant troops. William held down his hand.
“Come with me,” he said.
She looked up in surprise. “Where?”
He jerked his head in the direction of the army. “Out there. If there are any apologies to be made this day, then you will hear them. You, as much as your father, deserve them.”
She’d never really thought about that. After all, she had suffered little compared to the rest of her family.
“Are ye sure?” she asked hesitantly.
He smiled in answer and she immediately placed her hand in his and mounted in front of him easily. She was quite used to it by now.
*
Her family mounted, with Jemma riding behind her father, they rode from the bailey at an easy canter. As they crossed the field and approached the group of knights, they noticed several other men wearing plaid had joined the group. Jordan stiffened as she recognized the Elliott, McCutcheon, McKenna and Barr chiefs. William felt her go rigid and squeezed her waist reassuringly.
They came to a halt behind the line of English knights. Thomas was the last man to ride up, and he eyed the clan chiefs for a long, long time before slowly dismounting. All eyes were upon him as he approached his one-time allies.
Oliver Barr was standing slightly ahead of the others, his burly face expressionless. He met Thomas’ gaze unwaveringly as the man approached, and it was difficult to describe the emotions that were prevalent in the air. There was tension, yes, but not of a truly bad sort.
Jordan sat in front of her husband, her pale green eyes huge as she watched her father’s proud back.
Thomas and Oliver faced off against each other, each man trying to read into the other’s soul. They had known each other since they had been bairns, and for their alliance to have come to this point was a truly sad event.
Finally, Oliver cleared his throat. “We are glad we have finally found ye, Thomas. We had heard ye went to live wi’ the English.”
Thomas’ eyes were hard. “Ye gave me no choice, man, when ye burned my keep.”
Oliver looked uncomfortable and started to fidget. “That is why we have come, Thomas,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at his fellow chiefs for support. “What I mean to say is that we regret everything that has happened. I know it is too little, too late, but I wanted ye to go to yer grave knowing that we are sorry for what we did. We were foolish, and we are sorry.”
Thomas cocked a salt-and-pepper brow. “So that’s it?” he said with growing anger. “Ye burn a man’s keep to the ground and kill his kin, and ye think saying yer sorry will somehow right things?”
Oliver shook his head. “Nay, we dunna mean that.” he insisted. “We just… oh, bloody hell. Thomas, we wanted to tell ye we were stupid fools to listen to McKenna, and to tell ye that we’ll rebuild yer keep and anything else ye want done to show ye that we truly are sorry.”
“Can ye replace Anne and Lilith, and Donald and Benjamin and Nathaniel?” Thomas shot back. “Sorry or not, rebuilding my keep willna bring my kin back. The reasons matter not why ye did it, because the fact remains that ye did. Dunna look to me to ease yer guilty conscience, Oliver. Only God can forgive ye that.”
Oliver looked truly hurt. He knew Thomas was right, but his guilt had so consumed him that he had to come, anyway. They all did.
“Yer right, of course,” he replied softly. “I dinna expect yer forgiveness, but we’re willing just the same to try and make it up to ye.”
Thomas’ face was red and he turned away, walking aimlessly back toward his horse. Jordan, her eyes full of unshed tears, watched her father a moment before sliding off the destrier and approaching Oliver.
Oliver looked down at her, noticing how truly beautiful she had become over the past two years.
“Greetings to ye, Jordan,” he said softly, shamefully.
Jordan nodded faintly, staring back at him. “Are ye truly sorry for what ye have done, Laird Barr?”
Oliver looked miserable. “Aye, lassie, we are or we wouldna have come. ’Tis a humbling thing to admit yer own mistakes, but we are just the same. We realize how wrong we were to listen to Dunbar’s plans of gold and glory.” He looked her over. “And he told us ye were the biggest traitor of all because ye married an English earl. We knew ye that ye weren’t, but we believed him anyway. We’re sorry to ye, too, lass.”
Jordan was taken aback by the confession and the apology. She knew the human character and she could see from Oliver’s open stance that he was sincere. She glanced over her shoulder at her father, her husband.
“Give my da time. ’Twill take a great deal of time to heal him,” she said softly. “As for marrying the earl, I dinna do it.” She pointed up to proud, strong William. “I married The Wolf.”
Oliver’s eyes widened as he looked up at the earl. “Ye married The Wolf? The border Wolf?” he repeated. “Is that who he is?”
“Dinna they tell ye that at Northwood?” Jordan asked.
Oliver shook his head. “Nay, lass, they dinna,” he said, quite awed. “They simply told us they knew where Thomas had gone and nothing more. Lord, lassie, ye married The Wolf?”
Suddenly, Jemma was beside Jordan, glaring up at Oliver. “And I married his captain,” she said menacingly. “I ought to kill ye right here and now for what ye did to my mother, but in the name of peace I wunna. What in the world makes ye think an apology will help us now? Why dinna ye come months ago?”
“Because…because there was not one man among us who wanted to admit his mistake,” Oliver said. “Dunna vex me now, lass. ’Twas hard enough to get the courage to come here. But know how sorry I am about yer mother, Lilith. Truly, lass.”
Jemma was breathing hard, gearing up for another nasty retort when tears suddenly spilled down her cheeks and she turned away from him, sobbing. Kieran bailed from his destrier and went to his wife, enveloping her in his huge form. Oliver’s eyes widened at the sight of the truly massive man.
Jordan watched her cousin sympathetically a moment before turning back to Oliver. “And Caladora married Northwood’s captain, in case ye dinna know that,” she said softly. “Ye see, Oliver, we’re all married to English. And our children are of a new generation that ties our countries together, linking them. I pray my sons grow up to love Scots as well as English and that they never know what it is to hate another man simply because he is different. Yer hatred and yer greed blinded ye, and ye destroyed my father’s fortress because he formed an alliance with the enemy. Ye realized too late that the real enemy was from within.”
Oliver listened to her, agreeing with every word. The others heard her, English and Scot, and William had never been more proud of his wife.
“I love the English I live with and the English we are allied with, Laird Barr,” Jordan said after a moment. “I used to love the Scott allies, too, but ye have all but destroyed that tie. ’Twill take a long time to regain it.”
“I hope someday ye can find it in yer heart to forgive us,” Oliver said huskily. “We did so wrong ye.”
She lifted her eyebrows and nodded faintly in agreement. “Aye, ye did.” She glanced behind him. “I notice ye carry some of my father’s men.”
He nodded. “A little over one hundred.”
She gazed at her father again. “Ye will send the men back to Langton to begin rebuilding,” she told him. “My da will join them later.”
Oliver cleared his throat again, looking once more to Thomas’ turned back and over to Jemma where she stood clutching her husband. His damn stupidity had done this.
“Aye, lassie, I shall return them,” he said. “And I shall build up the first sto
ne myself. Mayhap…mayhap actions will speak louder than words.”
Jordan watched him go, followed by the other chiefs. They mounted their horses and began shouting orders to the multitude of tartan-clad men as the Scots began to split from the English troops. They all watched in silence, emotions swirling between them like devil winds, touching all. It was difficult to know how to react.
Jordan was suddenly aware of William beside her, watching the army march away in complete silence. Above them the sky was bright summer blue, and the field grass licked at her bare legs. Birds chirped around them and Jordan was suddenly filled with a sense of hope. Hope for the future, her children’s future.
“That was quite a speech,” William said after a moment.
She shrugged, turning to look at her father. “ ’Twas no speech, but the truth,” she said. “English, I think I shall walk back to Questing with my da if that is all right.”
He nodded, removing his helmet and kissing her forehead. “Quite all right, love. I shall meet you back there.”
He moved away from her and she turned to watch him, so regal and strong. Her Wolf. Her life that had come full circle.
Everything they had dreamed of and hoped for had come to pass and she loved him more than life itself.
“English,” she called out softly.
He turned to look at her, grasping his destrier’s reins.
“What is it, love?”
Love. He had always called her love. She smiled at him, a beautiful radiant smile that lit up her entire face. The smile that always made him go weak in the knees.
“See ye at home,” she said. Blowing him a kiss, she moved to her father and took his arm, walking leisurely with him across the sweet English grass toward the distant fortress of Questing.
Home.
EPILOGUE
San Diego, California
San Diego Naval Base
Base Hospital
Present Day
The waiting room, plus the two additional smaller ‘family’ waiting rooms were jammed full of more naval brass than Jeremy Scatler had ever seen in her five-and-a-half year naval career as a nurse. She’d never seen the waiting room of the emergency ward so full. Period. Men wearing Pentagon security badges scrutinized her closely as if she were Saddam Hussein in drag.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 131