Medieval Ever After

by Kathryn Le Veque

  As those gathered rose and cheered their assent, Robert stepped forward and shared a firm arm shake with the Bruce. To Rona’s surprise, the two began talking like old friends.

  Her eyes were pulled away from them when Meredith moved forward, her eyes locked on one of the men near Rona.

  “Ansel?” she cried and bolted forward. She launched herself into Ansel’s arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

  “I’m so glad you’re all right, little sister,” Ansel said into her hair.

  “I’m more than all right. I’ll explain later,” she said mysteriously as she pulled back from him, though Rona didn’t miss the hand she unconsciously placed over her stomach.

  Burke moved toward them and shared a comparatively subdued arm clasp with Ansel.

  Then Garrick was barreling into the group, his arms extended toward the men surrounding her.

  “Colin!” he said, giving the blond young man a hearty slap on the back. He exchanged a shake with Finn, who was reserved as usual, then turned to Angus, the red-haired giant.

  “Sinclair, you wee bastard!” Angus bellowed, and actually lifted Garrick, a lithe giant himself, off his feet in a bear hug.

  “Where’s that bonny wife of yours?”

  “Jossalyn is in the hall tending to the wounded,” Garrick said, sobering.

  “Were there many?” the Bruce said, his attention suddenly fully on Garrick.

  “Nay, blessedly. There are some arrow wounds, and some cuts and slices that need stitching. But some men were beyond help…”

  A somber silence fell over the group.

  “Aye, we lost some good men today,” the Bruce eventually said quietly. “Let us honor their sacrifice as we celebrate the victory they helped us secure.”

  “I’m sure we could all do with some food and drink,” Alwin said, stepping to Robert’s side. “The great hall is currently in use. But we could share a simple meal here in the yard.”

  “Thank you, Lady Sinclair,” the Bruce responded.

  The group dispersed, with some entering the hall to move a few of the wooden benches into the yard while Meredith and Alwin set about arranging for a meal with Elspeth.

  Agnes, weary-looking but spry, suddenly appeared in front of Rona.

  “I’ll have a bath prepared for you, my lady,” Agnes said with a quick bob.

  Rona began to protest, but Agnes was already pulling her away from Daniel and toward the tower keep. She looked back over her shoulder at him, longing to keep him near. But the Bruce spoke to him, drawing his attention.

  “Perhaps a dunk in the loch is in order,” the Bruce said. “I’d like to be rid of the stench of battle. Then you can show me how the castle fared.”

  Daniel nodded to the Bruce but shot her one last look that was filled with unspoken questions.

  Rona bathed quickly, but it was hard to resist the desire to sink into the warm water and never come out again. The only thing that brought her out of the tub was the thought of Daniel. She had so much to tell him, and he was clearly interested in learning what had transpired after he left her with the Fergusons. She didn’t want anything to go unsaid between them ever again.

  In the light of the fire burning in the brazier—for there was not a single candle left in the castle—she noticed the bruises on her torso and the fact that her ribs stood out more than usual. They were reminders of all she’d been through, and she feared that long after the bruises had faded and she returned to eating and sleeping normally, she would carry marks on the inside.

  She dressed and did her best to drag a comb through her tangled hair. Her reflection in the polished silver plate revealed that her face still bore evidence of her traumatic experiences. But she had Daniel to hold her, kiss her, and remind her that she was still alive and filled with fire. And she had Bhreaca, and Ian and Mairi, and Daniel’s family, who felt like her own now.

  Even without them, though, she had herself. She’d survived a madman’s attack, captivity in a dungeon, a harrowing journey in search of the Bruce’s army, and a battle. She was strong. She was alive. And she was still herself.

  She didn’t bother trying to tame her hair into a braid, and instead left it to dry around her shoulders. The great hall was relatively quiet as she walked through. The wounded men had been tucked under blankets, and many rested calmly. She spotted Jossalyn stirring something in a caldron over the hearth and approached. She squeezed one of her arms as a greeting.

  “Can I help?” Rona asked.

  “No, but thank you,” Jossalyn replied, though her voice belied her weariness. “Actually, once I finish steeping this comfrey, I’ll join you all in the yard.”

  Rona nodded and gave Jossalyn another squeeze. Then she turned to the doors leading to the yard.

  The large fire illuminated the faces of those gathered around it. They’d formed a rough circle with the benches, and quiet voices and chuckles rose from the group.

  A figure stood, and Rona realized it was Daniel. He approached and extended his arm to her. She took it, letting him guide her to a spot on a bench between him and the Bruce. She wanted to speak to him, but there were so many people surrounding them.

  As she sat down, she shot him a questioning look, but at that moment Alwin appeared and handed her a slab of bread topped with butter and slices of dried pear. It was simple fare, but as Rona’s teeth sank into the soft bread, she doubted she’d ever eaten anything as delicious.

  Someone handed Daniel a waterskin, and he took a long swig from it. He passed it to her, one eyebrow raised. She took a sip and immediately fell into a fit of coughing.

  “Why didn’t you say it was whisky?” she croaked at him as soon as she could speak.

  He didn’t seem to hear her, for his eyes were riveted to her mouth. He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, where apparently a stray drop of the fiery brew lingered. He slowly brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked, keeping his eyes locked with hers.

  Suddenly she felt a familiar stirring deep in her belly, yet one that had lain dormant through the tribulations of the previous week. Her eyes flickered to his mouth, and she felt a flush spread across her skin.

  “What’s the holdup?” the Bruce said next to her. She jumped, realizing that she still held the skin of whisky. A chuckle traveled around the circle, and her cheeks heated at their knowing looks at her and Daniel. She quickly passed the skin to the Bruce, who took a long pull and sent it to his right.

  Daniel cleared his throat.

  “I have been begging the King all night to explain how you came to be with him and his army,” he said to Rona. “But he refuses to tell me. He says you must tell your story.”

  For a moment she was grateful for the change of subject, but then her stomach tightened as all those around the circle fell silent and turned to her.

  She swallowed and glanced around the circle. Garrick sat on the other side of the Bruce, and Jossalyn had just joined them, settling herself next to him. Meredith was between Burke and her brother Ansel. Finn, Angus, Colin, and the other men were on the far side of the circle, and Robert and Alwin sat on Daniel’s other side.

  “When you left me in the woods,” she began carefully, “I knew I couldn’t simply stand by and do nothing as you fought to save the castle and all those within.”

  Daniel frowned but remained silent, so she went on.

  “I took Bella, Ian and Mairi’s old mare, and headed north. I’d overheard you say that the King’s army was on its way from the north, but that they were several days away and didn’t know the castle was in peril.”

  She shrugged uncomfortably under so many sets of eyes. “So I went to find them and tell them to hurry up.”

  An astounded silence held the group for a moment. Daniel was the first to recover his ability to speak.

  “And you simply…found them?”

  Rona’s eyes shot to Finn and Ansel, who looked like they were trying not to smile.

  Daniel must have followed her line of sight, for he turned his a
ttention on the two men across from him.

  “Do either of you have something to add?” he said tightly.

  “Nay, I think the lass is doing just fine,” Finn said smoothly. Ansel coughed.

  “Those two came upon me and took me to the King’s camp,” Rona said quickly.

  “‘Came upon’ you?” Daniel shot a dark look at Finn and Ansel.

  “We recognized the Sinclair plaid around her shoulders. We Sutherlands are good at that,” Finn said dryly, which was met with a few knowing chuckles. Though they were all united behind the Bruce in the campaign for Scottish freedom, Rona had gathered earlier from Meredith that the Sutherlands and Sinclairs had a long history of animosity between them.

  “I told the King what was happening, and he mobilized the army. We arrived in time to help, thankfully,” she concluded.

  “You’re leaving out how you told us where the English were positioned and helped us form a plan of attack,” the Bruce said, a mischievous grin on his face.

  Rona shrugged, and more barely muffled laughter rippled through the group.

  She glanced up at Daniel to see if he’d joined in the astonished merriment, but he wore a dark look. She felt a frown forming on her face to match his.

  “What are you so displeased about?” she said under her breath, though her tart tone caught some of the ears nearby.

  Daniel shook his head slightly. “You put yourself in great danger,” he said.

  “What else was I supposed to do?” She crossed her arms over her chest, sitting up straighter.

  “You could have waited out the battle at Ian and Mairi’s cottage, as I instructed,” he replied, mirroring her crossed arms.

  “I had to do something to help! After all, you saved me from Dunbraes. Now I’ve saved you.”

  Daniel opened his mouth, but before he could form a retort, the group exploded in laughter. She looked around in surprise and noticed Daniel glance at the others in confusion.

  “You’re even, then—and evenly matched!” the Bruce said through his mirth. “I take all the credit for your happy union—or at least for the fact that your marriage will always be lively!”

  The frown melted from Daniel’s features, to be replaced by a reluctant smile.

  “For which we thank you, sire,” he said, pinning Rona with a devilish look. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe we have some more…lively discussion to have.”

  Rona blushed as a round of ribald comments and whistles were thrown out at them, but Daniel paid them no mind. He stood and extended his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and they hurried off through the night toward the keep.

  By the time they reached their chamber, Rona was breathless, and not just from their hasty departure from the yard. The low fire in the brazier caught Daniel’s eyes, and she knew he too felt the passion building between them.

  He stepped close to her, bending his head slightly to brush his lips against hers. Even that light contact sent a shiver of anticipation through her. The Bruce was right—they were matched perfectly. Their stubbornness and willfulness meant occasional clashes, but the heat that crackled between them could melt even their most hardened obstinacy.

  Daniel moved his mouth to her neck and placed a tender kiss there.

  “I’m surprised you’re not more upset that I went against your instructions,” she breathed, barely able to concentrate on the words as his lips trailed along her neck.

  “Aye, I’m a bit surprised myself,” he whispered against her skin. “But you’ve changed me, Rona. I’ll always be commanding. But you’ve taught me that I also need to trust. Like a falcon and falconer.”

  Startled, Rona pulled back slightly. “What do you mean?”

  He straightened and gazed down at her. Would she ever grow tired of his strong jaw, his determined brow, or those stormy blue-gray eyes? She didn’t think so.

  “Ever since Ian told me that a falconer can never be sure his falcon will return, I’ve thought about us that way,” he began. “The falcon needs its freedom, and though the falconer hopes the bird will return, he must trust her enough to let her go.”

  Rona felt something shift in her chest, and tears stung her eyes.

  “Some believe that the falcon only returns to the falconer for food—that the bird is only following the easiest path to survival,” she said, her voice thick with emotion as she echoed Ian’s words. “But I think they’re wrong. I know Bhreaca. It is something I can’t put into words, but there is an invisible thread that joins us for life.”

  “Perhaps the best word for that is love,” he whispered, tracing a finger over her cheek.

  “Aye, love.”

  As his mouth lowered to hers, she knew it was the perfect word.

  HIGHLANDER’S RECKONING

  EPILOGUE

  Robert the Bruce ran his palm along one of the curtain wall’s large stones.

  “You know that my father and I built this wall, and the tower keep, by hand?” he said quietly to Daniel.

  Daniel glanced over his shoulder at the tower, then returned his eyes to the wall in front of him. He and the King stood on the battlements looking westward toward the village.

  “Aye, sire.”

  “Please, call me Robert when we are alone,” the Bruce said with a little smile.

  Daniel nodded but said nothing. He didn’t think he would get used to calling the King of Scotland by his given name. It was still hard to believe that he stood next to the man now.

  The Bruce gave the stone beneath his hand a pat and returned his eyes to the loch. In the days since the attack by Warren’s forces, the village had slowly returned to normal, and even now several boats moved between the castle and the village.

  “We made hundreds—nay, thousands—of trips between the shore and the island to transport these stones. Once, as we were lifting a stone out of the barge, my hands slipped and I dropped my end. The damned thing fell right to the bottom of the loch!”

  The Bruce shook his head ruefully at the memory.

  “I was sure my father would give me a severe tongue-lashing, if not a proper flogging! But instead he took me by the shoulders and gave me a serious look. He said, ‘Son, this is our home. She will shelter us, protect us, and be our family legacy. We must show her respect, care for her, and always protect her in return.’”

  Daniel glanced over when the Bruce fell silent and noticed that his brown eyes were distant with memory.

  “That was…sixteen years ago!” the Bruce said after a few moments. “How much has changed in those years. I was just a lad then, though I thought I was a man. And now I’m the King of Scotland.”

  While many men would turn that comment into a boast, the Bruce’s voice was actually heavy and somber.

  “There is still so much to be done…” he said quietly, and Daniel wasn’t sure he was meant to hear him.

  But then the Bruce shook his head a little and turned his attention on Daniel.

  “My father was a wise man,” he said, his voice intentionally lighter. “And I think if he were alive, he’d share a skin of his finest whisky with you for what you’ve done for Loch Doon, and for Scotland.”

  “It is an honor to serve you…Robert,” Daniel replied.

  “And there’s a bit of pleasure in it, too, I think,” the Bruce said, a mischievous twinkle entering his eyes. “Is it safe to say that you have joined the rest of your family in matrimonial bliss?”

  “Aye, sire—Robert,” Daniel said, raising an eyebrow at his King. “I will be forever in your debt for your match.”

  The Bruce sobered slightly. “Nay, Daniel, it is I who am in your debt.”

  The Bruce turned away from the loch and gazed at the castle, which was lit by the cheery morning sun. Daniel glanced up too. The sky was the same bright blue as Rona’s eyes. Spring was finally blossoming after a hard winter.

  “Will you be able to stay on here at Loch Doon for a while?” Daniel asked after a moment of silence.

  “Unfortunately, I cannot.
” The Bruce’s face fell slightly. “My men and I will travel southeast to secure Dunbraes, and then we’ll move on through the Borderlands.”

  Daniel nodded. He had already been apprised of the Bruce’s plan to raze Dunbraes to the ground so that the castle could never be retaken and used against the Scottish again.

  “You’ll join Sir Douglas, then?”

  James “the Black” Douglas was already at work razing castles and holdings all through the Lowlands and Borderlands at the Bruce’s order. It was arduous, gut-wrenching work, but if they could ever hope to end these wars for Scottish independence, they needed to destroy before they could rebuild.

  “Aye, at least for a time. We must secure the border against the English, yet some of our fellow Scotsmen continue to challenge me as well. I will eventually need to travel north to end this in-fighting once and for all,” the Bruce sighed. “I’m not sure when I’ll ever be able to truly come home. I’d like you to stay on as keeper of Loch Doon.”

  “Of course, Robert. Let your mind be at ease that Loch Doon will be safe and well cared for,” Daniel said.

  The Bruce turned to him. “With a Sinclair behind these walls, I’ll sleep well at night. I truly am in your debt.”

  Daniel began to protest again, but stopped in mid-sentence. Just then something occurred to him.

  “I serve you freely and loyally, Robert. But…may I ask a favor?”

  The Bruce’s eyes narrowed, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Rona placed her hand on the door to the study.

  “Go on. The King is waiting,” Daniel said quietly behind her.

  He had pulled her away from the others only a moment before, saying that Robert the Bruce wanted to see her, but he refused to tell her why.

  She cautiously pushed the door open and stepped into the study, Daniel following her. She blinked in surprise as she took in the room. The desk had been moved, and the Bruce sat calmly in a chair facing her.