by John Ryan
“Elspeth! Elspeth! Come back to me! Please wake! For the love of God, please wake!” begged Thayer’s disembodied voice.
Caught between a domain of nightmares and a world of reality, Elspeth struggled to fend off unconsciousness. Slowly opening her eyes, objects in the room sank into view, wreathed in inky shadows. Her heart settling heavily in her chest, Elspeth felt a dull ache seep into her heart. It was as if her very soul had died.
“Thayer?” she murmured, her strength and spirit all but diminished.
“I’m right here, m’love,” Thayer reassured, gazing upon her with a look of caring and love she had never known.
“Thayer, where is the King?” she whispered.
“He has other matters of concern to attend to, my sweet, but we will see him again ‘ afore we depart.”
“What happened to me?”
“Ye fainted and struck your head upon the stone floor. Ye have been out for nigh a full day.”
Judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the pallid hue of his cheeks, Elspeth knew Thayer had been up the entire time, tending her. Weakly, she lifted her hand to rest it upon his cheek. Thayer clasped it and drew it to his lips. Tenderly, he kissed her fingers one by one.
“Did ye sleep m’love?” Elspeth murmured.
“Aye,” Thayer answered insincerely.
“Don’t lie to me, Thayer MacCourt. Have ye already forgotten my ability to uncover your deceit?” Elspeth murmured, nibbling upon her lip to stay a triumphant smile.
“Yet again, ye have exposed me for the cad that I am,” Thayer whispered. “Alas, I must confess that I could not slumber with ye in peril. Truly, ye had me worried to death. Though Sinead, the healer of the castle, tended your wounds and assured me that I should retire, I wouldn’t dream of letting ye out of me sight. I carried ye to the guest chambers, to the very bed I used to sleep upon as a wee lad when I would visit Uncle John. Rest now. I will tell ye all that ye need to ken when ye are feeling a little better.”
“Nae,” Elspeth protested vehemently as she sprung up in the bed. A wave of anguish crashed through her skull as she clapped her hands over her ears in response to the pain. Wincing, she slowly sank back down upon the bed.
She pleaded, “Thayer, m’love, please, I must ken what happened. What did King John tell ye about Dirleton? What has become of our families?”
“I shall tell ye, but only if ye promise not to pop up like that again, okay?” Thayer chided lovingly with a smile.
With an obedient nod, Elspeth gradually rose into a more erect position. With Thayer’s help, she drew up her knees, cupping her chin in her hands. She listened in rapt attention as Thayer related the words of the King.
“Nary a few hours after we departed Lothian, the castle was besieged by the English. Yet, oddly, the castle gate was unmanned. My uncle says that he would have liked to question the head of the guard, but he was killed by the first English soldiers to breech the castle. The invasion was led by that blasted cur, Lord Devlin.”
With the mention of Lord Richard Devlin’s name, Elspeth’s heart sank deeply in her chest. A dastardly cad responsible for untold Scottish misery and death, the English lord was well known to Elspeth and her family. As a child, her father described the existence of such evil men as “soulless urchins into which a sleepless malice has crept into their core.” When she was young, she wasn’t entirely certain what that meant, but would later gain an understanding when her father described the horrifying condition of the men he had rescued from Devlin’s dungeon.
For nigh ten years, Lord Devlin had been at odds with Elspeth’s father. They had even met briefly on the field of battle some four months prior. Engaging in a joust, Sir Rhoenne struck Lord Devlin’s shield with his lance, shattering it and dismounting the English lord from his hulking destrier. The earl had won the day and his foe was left with a permanent reminder of the defeat, a frightful scar etched deeply across his brow.
Further, during the past year, soldiers loyal to the English lord had thrice delayed the earl’s knights from joining the Scottish rebellion. The Englishmen had engaged the knights of Dirleton in a series of increasingly violent confrontations. Little did anyone know, it would all culminate with the siege of Dirleton.
“What of our families, Thayer? Please dinna conceal their fates from me another minute,” Elspeth posed as her bottom lip began to quiver.
Gently caressing her cheek, Thayer said: “Thanks to the lord, our mothers were spared. It seems Devlin doesn’t desire the whole of Scotland to seek the vengeance he would surely suffer if he were to shed the blood of the most revered ladies of Scotland. Nevertheless, the bloody bastard permitted my mother to return to our fiefdom whilst they expelled your mother from the castle. Word has arrived that she has been afforded refuge in the Townsend Manor. I believe it lies in a small burgh not five miles from the castle.”
“And what of Graham, Faolin, Muirne, and Asilin?” Elspeth asked breathlessly.
“Our brothers joined in the defense of the castle and were grievously wounded in the fray. I’m afraid they are both being held prisoner in the tower. As for Muirne, she was spared, but Asilin hasn’t been seen since the siege.”
“Nae! Please tell me it is not so, Thayer!” Elspeth cried in disbelief, her shoulders racked in grief.
Wordlessly, Thayer drew her lovingly to his chest. Elspeth broke into heart-wrenching sobs, her tears streaming down her cheeks. Her very world had stopped. Her beloved brother lay wounded, imprisoned, and in grave danger. Even if he survived his wounds, he would surely be hanged by the English. It was more than she could bear.
“Thayer, we must go to them,” Elspeth pled between sniffles.
“Aye, yet there is something I must reveal to ye first, m’love.”
Elspeth winced as she gazed upon eyes full of pain. She felt her heart lurch. She simply couldn’t bear another bad tiding.
“Uncle John has permitted me to escort ye to the burgh to reunite with your mother. But…”
“But what, Thayer? Please dinna delay.”
“King John requires that I await the arrival of Sir William’s army. Within a fortnight, I am to join them. Together, we will retake the castle.”
“God, nae!” Elspeth cried. “Please tell me I am not going to lose ye, too! I could not bear it!”
“Ye will never lose me, my sweet,” Thayer whispered. “Never.”
Chapter Twelve
Though night had fallen, sleep would not come to Elspeth. As desperately as she sought the merciful respite, the dreadful images of Dirleton Castle aflame roiled in her head, sending her heart skittering in her chest. The tormented faces of her family floated eerily through her mind, prompting her to toss fitfully about her bed. Sweat beading her brow and rife with grief, she stared blankly at the ceiling, denied any ease of her anxiety.
The rumbling snores emanating from the adjacent room reminded Elspeth that Thayer was faring far better. Grateful for his restful reprieve, Elspeth whispered a prayer of thanks before returning her thoughts to her woes. A pained sigh escaping her, she added a heartfelt plea to extend that mercy to Graham and Faolin.
Mercifully, morning broke at last. Heartened to hear Thayer stir in the next room, Elspeth pressed her ear against the cool stone wall. At once, her ears were pricked by a muffled rap of knuckles upon Thayer’s door. Elspeth listened in rapt attention as the sound of Thayer’s heavy footfalls were followed by the creak of an opening door. She heard Thayer’s voice first, followed by a second, deeper one. Though she couldn’t determine what was being said, Elspeth instantly recognized the husky voice of King John.
The murmuring ebbed, and the sound of Thayer’s door closing set Elspeth scrambling away from the wall. Slipping under her heavy down quilt, Elspeth propped herself up and drew her knees toward her chest. Resting her elbows upon her knees, Elspeth dumped her head in her hands and sat in pensive silence, gazing at the door to her chambers. A few moments later, she heard a gentle knock at her door.
“Good morningtide, m�
�love,” Thayer beckoned through the door. “Please wake now. King John wishes to see us in his chambers afore we depart for the burgh. Once ye have attired, please hasten to my chambers.”
“I’ll be along in a few moments, Thayer,” Elspeth replied, her spirits instantly brightened by the sound of his voice. “And good morningtide to ye,” she added sweetly, though the waning footfalls in the hall told her he had already departed.
Casting her regard to the small oaken table which lay alongside her bed, she spied the ivory comb her father had given her before joining the war. Not anxious of leaving the warmth of the quilt, she stretched her hand to the far side of the table and swept the comb from its resting place.
With the quilt coiled tightly around her, Elspeth began to comb her lengthy auburn tresses. She raked the comb’s ivory teeth through the full length of her hair time and time again until each strand shone with a gleaming luster. Tugging on her robin’s egg blue kirtle, she steadied herself against the tall oaken bedpost.
Deftly, she eased herself into her snug-fitting jade gunna and adjusted the bodice of lace. Pursing her lips into a pout, she dabbed on a drop of ruby rouge. With a pat of talc upon her cheeks and a drop of rose water behind each ear, she felt ready to face Thayer and the King.
Elspeth slipped into the hall and stood before the door to Thayer’s chambers. Though it had only been a matter of hours since they last were together, Elspeth felt a gnawing sense of emptiness from their parting.
So, this is what love does to ye? she mused with an inward giggle. If am to be rendered this daft every time I am to be disunited from him, so be it. I wouldn’t change a thing!
“Thayer, I’m ready,” Elspeth announced as she gently rapped upon his door.
“The door is open, m’sweet. Please come in.”
Slipping inside the chambers, Elspeth lingered in the doorway.
Thayer, who had been sitting on the edge of his bed, snapped to attention“Did ye...uh…sleep well?” Thayer asked.
“Aye,” Elspeth replied insincerely. Inwardly, she prayed Thayer didn’t sense the hoarseness in her voice or the weariness in her eyes.
Lifting an incredulous brow, Thayer seemed to search her face as he posed, “Are ye sure ye are alright, m’love?”
“Aye, of course” she repeated, avoiding his gaze.
With the concerns for their families and a battle looming, the last thing Elspeth wanted to do was burden him further with her fears. Hoping to find a diversion, anything that would deflect Thayer’s suspicion, Elspeth said, “Thayer, ye never did tell me of the origin of this beautiful sun cross ye bestowed upon me. Please, tell me now.”
A heavy sigh escaping him, Thayer explained, “Aye, ‘tis a very special cross indeed. One of only two ever created. They were fashioned by the highly esteemed Edinburgh artisan, Aengus Napier. He swore to never create another in its image. Its etchings symbolize the virtues of bravery, fealty and honor.” Thayer paused reflectively before continuing. “The first cross that Aengus bestowed upon me grandfather was designed to be a token of his gratitude for saving his son’s life in battle. The second cross was created for my grandmother. On the eve of the battle of Sterling, my grandfather bequeathed his cross to me. As for the cross that was given to my grandmother, my grandfather bore it into battle.” His eyes glistening, Thayer added, “He never returned from the war. Forsooth, I am yet to learn of the circumstances which surrounded his death.”
“And ye hold me in such high regard that ye present it to me? I am truly honored,” Elspeth said.
A fetching smile crept across his handsome visage, Thayer ask: “Now, what do ye think the King wishes to speak with us about afore we head off?”
“To be perfectly honest with ye, I have no idea,” Elspeth replied, concern furrowing her brow.
“Well, there is but one way to find out,” Thayer exclaimed before proffering his arm.
In silent apprehension, they made their way from the antechamber to the King’s royal room, which lay at the end of the hall. Elspeth’s mind was working so feverishly that she nearly didn’t notice that the King’s door was already ajar. Clearly, he had anticipated the time of their arrival. He also must have sensed their approaching footsteps, because he beckoned them to enter before they reached the chamber.
“Ah, Thayer, Elspeth, top o’ the morning,” he bid warmly. “Please come in and take a seat.” He ushered them to a table richly set with fresh fruits, warm breads, and rolls glazed with maple ginger. In happier times, Elspeth’s mouth would water at the sumptuous spread before them. But her heart was heavy, and the sweet aroma which wafted through the chambers did little to stoke her appetite or lighten her mien.
“I trust the accommodations were to your liking,” King John asked as he popped an oversized sweet roll into his mouth. Elspeth watched in amazement as it seemed to disappear without a swallow.
“I ken that ye are most eager to ride to the burgh to reunite with Lady Fiona, but I have something of grave import I must speak with ye both about first,” the King began. “Oh, forgive me;” he murmured apologetically, “I fear I have been remiss with my manners. Do ye care for some tea? I have the finest in all of Scotland. It really is quite good.”
“No, thank ye,” Elspeth and Thayer answered in unison.
“Are ye sure that ye have only recently been acquainted?”the King laughed “Ye seem to be of one mind. Nevertheless, What I am about to tell ye both must be kept in the strictest confidence. Do ye understand?” King John said before popping another sweet roll into his mouth and rising to shut the door to his chambers.
Elspeth and Thayer exchanged bewildered glances before nodding their accord to him. Acknowledging their assent, the King continued.
“Ken this; many lives will be in mortal danger should ye reveal what I am about to tell ye both. What I tell ye today must die with ye.”
With a sidelong glance at the door as if to confirm that they remained alone, the King leaned forward across the table before proceeding. “Ye are both acquainted with the Stone of Destiny, of course?”
“Aye, Sire. ‘Tis said that the Stone is the very pillow upon which Jacob rested his head as he dreamt of the ladder which carried angels between heaven and earth,” Elspeth volunteered.
“That’s right, m’child,” King John answered as a pensive smile crept across his lips.
The smile quickly fled and his face took on a decidedly more somber look as he continued. “Ken this: the Stone is a holy relic with the power to grant protection to its steward. Forsooth, it must never fall into the hands of the English.”
“But why are ye telling us this, Uncle John?” Thayer posed, arching a bewildered brow. “Elspeth and I both ken of the Stone’s significance. We also ken that ye received your coronation upon it on St. Andrew’s Day.”
His voice dropping to a whisper, King John explained, “Thayer, Elspeth, the stone here at Edinburgh is an imposter. Only your fathers, and the Scottish nobles that are held in my very highest confidence, ken this. Those few include both of your fathers.”
“What the devil are ye talking about, Uncle? Verily, ye are not serious?”
“Aye, Thayer. I could not be more staid,” King John replied pensively. The funereal gloss of his eyes was the only assurance they required to attest to his sincerity.
Upon hearing the King’s shocking revelation, Elspeth stood in disbelief. Not only did King John reveal that the Stone of Destiny in Edinburgh Castle was an impostor, but in doing so disclosed that both of their fathers had foreknowledge of it! His pale blue eyes growing tired, King John offered, “I’ll tell ye of the tale of the Stone, but I need your assurances that this tale will never leave this room.”
Without awaiting their response, King John slowly rose from his seat and began to walk about the room. Clearly uncomfortable, he nonetheless appeared grateful to relinquish the heavy burden of the secret of the Stone.
Clearing his throat, he continued, “Withal, within a fortnight of my coronation upon the Stone,
it was replaced with one that had been most cleverly hewn. Forsooth,‘tis most difficult to distinguish the imposter from the original.”
Elspeth and Thayer stared in rapt attention, their mouth agape, as the King continued his incredible account.
“Under the cover of darkness, the true Stone was removed from Edinburgh Castle. Your fathers and a third knight were entrusted with this most honorable and perilous duty. Forsooth, as was their estimable way, they accepted it without travail.”
Elspeth drew in a deep breath. A long sigh slipping from her lips, she said, “I cannot believe my father never told me of this.”
“M’dear, to possess such knowledge would put your very life in grave peril. I assure ye, he did it for your safety.”
“But, Sire, why would ye permit the Stone to be removed? Is it not safest here?”
“‘Twas for its, as well our, protection,” King John replied as he pivoted on his heels and approached the table once more.
Elspeth lifted her gaze to the King’s towering form as he stood before them.
A bittersweet smile hovered about his lips as he regarded Elspeth warmly. “Ye have the look of me daughter,” he proclaimed, his eyes misting. “Alas, she died in childbirth.” Nodding his head, he murmured sadly, “Aye, she had the fire as ye do.”
“I’m exceedingly sorry for your loss, Sire,” Elspeth offered empathetically.
“‘Tis no cause to be penitent, m’dear. Just to look upon ye has brought her back to me, if only for a few moments. I should be thanking ye.”
Drawing his chair closer, the King slowly lowered his great bulk into a seat.
Drawing a deep breath, he continued. “Since the year of our Lord, 843, the Stone of Destiny has bestowed good fortune upon its stewards. It even has the power to turn the tide in our favor against the English in this war. Indeed, until just yesterday, the same could be said for its current stewards.”
Thayer and Elspeth exchanged disarrayed glances.
The King’s next words made his meaning crystal clear.
“Though besieged many times, the fortress which housed the Stone has never been breached--until now.”