The Promise of Peace

by Carol Umberger

  As Nola neared the stable, she opened her hand to look at the key. The key slipped through her fingers and into the dirt under her feet. She came to an abrupt stop, dropped to her knees, and searched the ground, but didn’t see the small silver object. Nola scrabbled in the dirt in an effort to uncover her treasure.

  A shadow fell across her just as her fingers located the key. She looked up and discreetly palmed it.

  “What are you doing in the dirt?” her father asked.

  Nola stood and faced her father. He didn’t look angry, just amused. Though she hated to lie, she didn’t want to hand over the key resting safely in her hand. So she smiled. “I thought I saw something in the dirt.” It wasn’t really a lie—she had seen the key, after all.

  Her father looked at her as if not quite sure whether to believe her. “Well, come along. Your mother has need of you.”

  Nola breathed a sigh of relief as she walked beside her father, resigned to solving the mystery of the key later.

  KEIFER USED A BRANCH to sweep the ground and erase the signs of digging. Then he gathered loose stones and leaves and scattered them. He surveyed the site. How would he find this spot again if he disguised it too well?

  A large tree limb lay nearby. He could drag it over to mark the buried box. But then suppose someone gathered up the limb for firewood? He should find a rock, something heavy and more permanent, and place it there. However, the nearest big rock he might possibly be capable of moving lay some distance away.

  Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Keifer kicked at the dirt and then took up the shovel. Carefully he removed the dirt covering the area where he’d buried the small wooden box. But as he dug, the chest remained hidden from sight.

  Panicked, he dropped to his hands and knees, clawing the dirt with bare hands. He almost shouted in relief when his fingers brushed the edge of the box. He retrieved it and held it up to the light.

  If he hadn’t lost the key, there would be no need to look for a hiding place. But the key had disappeared. He would have to break the clasp to get into the box. But until then he must find somewhere else to hide his treasure. If he had his own room, he would be able to protect it from prying eyes and thieves. But his choices had been to sleep with the other children or bed down in the hall. Sleeping with babies was out of the question.

  Which brought him back to the object in his hands. He was old enough to be given privileges and responsibilities. He feared that if anyone knew what he kept in the box his sister had given him, they would laugh at him.

  Let them laugh. He didn’t care what others thought. These items were all he had of home and family, and if Nola or anyone else thought less of him . . . He must not lose any of these precious objects like he had lost that blasted key.

  Keifer needed to find a place where he could be alone to look at the contents when he felt the need. With that in mind, he made his way to the gallery behind the fireplace in the great hall. A narrow ledge ran across the length, hidden from the tables below by a cross work of wood strips. Perfect. Here he could see and not be seen and maybe even be safe from that pest, Nola.

  NOLA COULDN’T FIND KEIFER. He hadn’t been with Seamus, nor was he here in the main hall. Could he be hiding from her? As she stood still, her kitten meowed and began to crawl up her skirt.

  “Shh.” Nola reached down and brought the kitten up into her arms. She climbed the stairs beside the great fireplace, lost in thought. When she reached the top, the kitten launched itself from her arms and ran behind the screen in front of the gallery’s narrow walkway.

  Nola had spent many hours on the overhang, looking down into the main hall when her parents were entertaining. But the hall was empty today and she didn’t have time to dawdle. She needed to find Keifer.

  “Here, kitty.” Nola walked closer, sure she heard the cat pounce on something.

  Thud. The kitten screeched and Nola raced onto the narrow walkway, grateful that the screen stood between her and a long fall to the floor below. Her kitty needed her! She stumbled over the hem of her skirt and crashed into . . . Keifer.

  “What have you done to my cat?” she demanded.

  He held the animal out to her. “Nothing. The daft thing attacked my leg.”

  Nola set the kitten on the floor. “Why are you hiding?”

  He ignored her. She thought he must be unhappy at being forced to live here with her family. She couldn’t understand why. Castle Moy was great fun to explore, and he could be happy if he’d just try.

  He’d shunned her offer to be his friend and avoided her. That she could abide. But she wouldn’t let him get away with hurting her cat.

  She kicked him in the shin.

  “Ouch! Why’d you do that?”

  “You hurt my kitten. And you don’t want to be my friend.” Nola noticed the small chest in his hands. “What’s that?”

  Looking as if he’d lost his very last friend, Keifer shook his head. “You don’t give up, do you? Just go and leave me be.”

  But Nola could imagine only too well how hard it would be to leave her mother and family, all that was familiar and dear. And to have her father dead! Her heart hurt just thinking what life would be like under such circumstances. This boy needed a friend, and she would be Keifer’s whether he wanted her to or not.

  “Why are you up here?”

  His chest heaved with a huge breath. Was he trying not to cry? Nola looked away to give him time to compose himself, looked again at the small box in his hands and noticed it had a locked latch on it. A very small lock. Just the size of the key she’d found.

  She put out her hand. “I found this in the rushes of the main hall this morning. Is it yours?”

  She opened her fingers to expose the key laying in her palm. He nodded but didn’t reach for it at first. Nola could see the relief on his face. What was in the box?

  He reached for the key.

  KEIFER MADE AS IF TO HIDE IT in the folds of his plaid, then thought better of it. Placing the key in the lock, he turned the key, removed the lock, and opened the lid of the chest. He stared into it for a moment, unsure whether or not to share the contents with this girl.

  Then he offered the box to her.

  Nola peeked inside but she did not try to touch anything, as if she respected such treasures. “Will you show them to me?” she asked.

  Keifer reached in and picked up the wooden horse. “My da made this for me.” He laid it in her hand, and she closed her fingers around it and lifted it in front of her face. She turned it about, examining it. “It’s beautiful. It must be nice to have a father who can make such a wonderful toy.”

  “My da is dead.” He hadn’t meant to sound hurt, but his pain must have come through in his voice.

  She looked at him, her expression stricken. Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Keifer.” She handed the figure back to him. “Here, take it before something happens to it.”

  He took the horse from her and put it back in the box.

  “Will you show me the rest?”

  “There’s a fish hook and some string. Do you fish?”

  “Da has taken me a few times, but he’s usually too busy. Maybe you could take me—you are old enough to go without an adult.” She looked so hopeful, Keifer puffed his chest at her adoration.

  “Perhaps.” He picked up the ball. “My friend, Ceallach, made this for me.”

  “Who is Ceallach?”

  “The man who brought me here. He’s the laird of Dunstruan, where I lived before coming here.”

  “He was your friend? The laird?”

  “Aye. He taught me to use a sword and started my training as a warrior. He was a great warrior himself.”

  “And do you want to be a great warrior too?”

  “Aye. It is my heart’s desire.” Now why had he confessed such a thing to this meddlesome girl? Keifer put the ball back.

  “Do you miss your family terribly?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “They most likely miss you, too. Why
did they send you so far away to foster?”

  “Because my uncle wants to kill me.” Keifer looked at the final item in the box.

  “Kill you! Why?” Nola followed his gaze. “What’s that?”

  Keifer hastened to cover the ring, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  “Oh, it’s shiny. What is it?”

  He hadn’t known her long, but he knew enough that there would be no placating Nola once she had made up her mind. Still covering the ring with his hand, he said, “I will show it to you, but you must not tell anyone about it.”

  “Why? Did you steal it? Will you get in trouble for having it? Why can’t I tell?”

  “I did not steal it, but yes, I could get in trouble for having it.” He lifted his hand and picked up the ring, laying it in her outstretched palm.

  “It’s a laird’s ring,” she said.

  “Aye. The Macnab ring. It belonged to my Uncle Angus, but King Robert took it from him and put him in prison. I will wear the ring when I’m old enough to be laird of my clan.”

  “Why will you get in trouble? Is it yours or isn’t it?”

  “It’s mine, but my Uncle Angus wants it back for his son—my cousin.”

  “That’s why your uncle wants to kill you, then.”

  “Aye. He thinks my sister has it, but she sent it with me for safekeeping. So you mustn’t tell. Promise?”

  She nodded vigorously. “I promise!”

  “Good. It will be our secret.”

  “We must find a good place to hide the key to the box. I know,” she said. Reaching behind her neck, she pulled her braid over her shoulder and unfastened a ribbon from it. Taking the ribbon, she laced it through the hole at one end of the key and tied the ribbon in a loop. “There, now you can wear the ribbon and keep the key close to you. No one will be able to get into your treasure box and steal your memories.”

  Keifer took the ribbon she held out to him. “Thank you, Nola.” He placed the key around his neck.

  Without a word Nola hugged him, and Keifer’s loneliness eased.

  THREE

  Castle Moy, 1318

  AS THE MONTHS AND YEARS WENT BY, Keifer settled into the routine at Moy. He missed his mother and sister less and less and convinced himself he was better off at Moy. News came slowly to the far reaches of the highlands, but eventually they learned that Edward Bruce, the last of Robert the Bruce’s brothers, had been crowned King of Ireland. Later still, they heard that he had been killed in battle.

  Berwick, that unlucky border town, was retaken by the Scots as Scotland and England continued to feud. These tales of far-away conflict fueled Keifer’s desire to become a warrior, perhaps to even be knighted for his bravery in battle. Every morning he attended chapel, broke his fast and headed for the lists to train with Seamus.

  He was tall and strong for fourteen, a fact that gave him great pride, though it was none of his doing. Just yesterday Nola’s mother had taken Keifer aside and impressed upon him that she held him responsible for the younger children’s safety when they were together. Though it was a compliment to have her trust, he couldn’t help resenting being in charge of them.

  This morning he and Nola had met before daybreak, and now Keifer walked up the path from the stream where they had spent the morning fishing. “Hurry up, Nola. What’s keeping you?”

  He turned to urge her to move faster, but the path behind him was empty. “Nola, come on. We’re going to be late for chapel.” There was no answer.

  The bushes that grew along the path prevented him from seeing what delayed Nola. “I’m going to be in trouble with your mother. Again,” he shouted.

  “Keifer. I need your help!”

  “Of course you do. I’m not falling for that ruse again. Hurry up, we’re late.” As if the girl didn’t know it.

  Keifer heard a loud splash and, fearing what it might mean, he dropped his pole and the fish he’d caught and ran back to the bank of the stream.

  Nola thrashed about in waist high water.

  “What in the world are—” A plaintive bleat filled the air as the lamb Nola clutched shoved its head above water.

  “Don’t stand there yapping, help me with this gòrach lamb,” she sputtered.

  Each springtime the two of them took on the care of the orphaned lambs, and each year at least one of them followed Keifer and Nola around like a dog. Keifer felt a kinship with the abandoned animals and Nola had the patience to deal with the stubborn creatures, wooing them into her family circle just as she had him.

  But as he waded toward her in the cold water, Keifer thought this year’s lamb had met its match in Nola. The creature lunged and pulled Nola off her feet and into deeper water. Keifer fought the current and reached out for her hand, but her fingers swept past just out of reach as the water swept her away.

  “Let go of the lamb, Nola!” Her head disappeared beneath the water. Foolish girl. He abandoned his sure footing and moved toward where she’d gone under. Treading water, he jabbed his hands below the surface. Nothing. For the first time, he tasted fear.

  Nola’s head broke the surface some distance away. The current carried her downstream faster than him, and Keifer swam after her with frightened, fast strokes.

  She still clutched the panicked animal.

  “Let go of the dumb sheep and grab a branch,” he shouted. The cold water would have felt good on a warm summer afternoon, but so early in the day, without the sun’s full warmth, it sapped Keifer’s energy. Afraid Nola would weaken, he swam harder.

  Nola went under again, but this time she let go of the lamb, which struggled toward the shore. Nola was a good swimmer, but with her heavy skirts weighing her down, Keifer feared she might not surface again. The current was carrying her to the deep pool where they’d caught their fish.

  Keifer prayed for strength and for Nola’s head to again emerge. With luck the water would carry her to more shallow water, but could Nola hold her breath that long? Would she sink too deep for the current to move her? When he reached the spot he’d last seen her, he took a breath and went under, searching for her until he grew faint from lack of air.

  Lungs nearly bursting, he surfaced without Nola and panic threatened to overtake him, just as it had the wild lamb. He prayed again, teeth chattering. He’d been carried to the shallows and was able to stand now—why didn’t Nola push herself up out of the water? Had she hit her head?

  Desperately Keifer searched under the water, along the shore. Seconds passed like hours before Nola’s head broke the surface. He moved with as much speed as the water allowed and pulled her to him.

  “Nola!” he shouted. Her eyes were closed, and he dragged her to the shore. Warm tears joined the cool creek water on his face. He hugged her tight, crushing her to him.

  The action must have jostled her lungs, for a gush of water came out of her mouth. She sputtered and struggled and opened her eyes. “Nola. Thank God.” He helped her to sit and retch up the rest of the water. When the spasms passed, she looked at him, swiping the water from her eyes as if she’d just taken a leisurely swim. “Did you save the lamb?”

  His laugh came out strangled, and she tried to push him away. But he clung to her, saying a heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving and promising himself that they would never miss chapel again.

  He pointed to the bedraggled animal just upstream from them. “The lamb swam to shore and is probably laughing at us both. You could have drowned!”

  “Aye, but I didn’t. I knew you’d save me.”

  He shook his head, wondering at her faith in him. “That I did. You could thank me, you know.” Keifer stood and helped Nola to her feet. “Come on. By the time we change clothes, we’ll miss chapel for sure.”

  “I do thank you. You were very brave.” She looked to the east and the rapidly rising sun. “We’re going to catch it for sure unless we can convince Mama we went to chapel before we went fishing.” She shrugged and proceeded to walk back to where she’d left her pole.

  They gathered their belongings a
nd walked up the path toward the castle. Nola said, “You won’t tell on me, will you?”

  “We’ll be in enough trouble for missing chapel. Just promise me not to do anything foolish like that again.”

  “I promise.”

  Keifer doubted that she would try that particular stunt again. But he could be sure she would find some other mischief. Nola’s impulsive nature made her a delightful companion. He just hoped she could learn to curb her impulses as she matured without destroying her joy for life.

  GWENYTH SAT ON A WOODEN BENCH in Moy’s chapel, her husband beside her and their sons between him and his mother. Gwenyth smiled as Eva removed Tom’s hand from his brother Rob’s hair. What would Gwenyth do without her children’s grandmother to help with her active brood?

  As she looked up at the beautiful stained-glass window above the altar, Gwenyth remembered the day she’d taken vows with Adam in this very place. She bowed her head for a prayer of thanks for God’s many blessings since that day. Two of those blessings sat here with her. Little James was still asleep in the nursery. Her fourth and oldest child was late for chapel. As was Keifer. No doubt they were into some mischief together. Such had been the case ever since Keifer’s arrival three years ago.

  When Gwenyth finished praying, she lifted her head and glanced about the chapel, looking once again for Nola and Keifer. Still not here. She would have to scold them both.

  Adam had also finished his prayers and stood up. While his mother took Rob’s hand, Adam reached for Tom. As they walked from the chapel, Adam asked his wife, “Where are Nola and Keifer?”

  “I was wondering the same thing. Neither of them asked permission to skip chapel this morning.”

  Eva said, “I’ll take the boys inside to break their fast if you want to look for Nola and Keifer.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” Adam said.

  Eva took the children by the hands and walked into the main hall while Adam and Gwenyth remained standing outside the chapel.