Sir Bryan had said that very thing, so Keifer knew that Owyn spoke the truth. Though he had reason not to trust the boy, Owyn seemed quite open and honest.
“So, you don’t want to be laird?” Donel asked, plainly taken aback by the thought.
“By the saints, no. My cousin is welcome to it. What of ye?” he asked Keifer.
Trying to sound bored despite his anxiety at the turn of the conversation, Keifer said, “I am to be laird of my clan.”
Owyn nodded and looked up from his chore. “Ye’ll do well at it. Ye’ve the instincts of a leader.”
Keifer didn’t feel right not admitting to his identity. He would dance around the issue for just a while longer—give Owyn a chance to say or do something to reveal or condemn himself. Keifer changed the subject.
“You did well in the sword play today, Owyn. You could be very good at it if you would apply yourself.”
“That I could. But as I said, I don’t want to become a knight.”
Donel rose to hang his bridle on its peg. “Will you hire yourself out, then?”
“Aye, I’ll sell my sword arm, such as it is.” He held his arm out in front of him, fist clenched, and tightened the muscles of his upper arm. Looking at the less-than-impressive mound of flesh, he grinned.
“As if anyone would hire a squire the size of a small boy.”
Keifer laughed. “It’s not as bad as that.”
“I appreciate the fighting moves ye showed us this morning.
Perhaps I will be able to outwit an opponent and take advantage of my speed, as ye said.”
“Aye, speed can be used to advantage. But all the skill in the world wouldn’t get you into my army, did I have one. I value loyalty more.”
“Well, ye have mine, Keifer, after saving me from Donel’s frog.”
They laughed, even Donel. Donel pushed his hair from his face. “You will be laird of your clan—why become a knight if you’ve something like that to look forward to?”
“King Robert has need of men trained for war. And I have need to protect my clan from . . . those who covet what isn’t theirs.”
“Ah, someone else thinks he should be laird.” Donel nodded in apparent empathy.
“I was never meant to be laird, but my uncle chose to serve the English king. Bruce took away his lands and gave them to me when I was but a child. My sister and her husband hold them for me.”
Owyn peered at him, his expression puzzled. “Ye don’t sound enthused at the idea of leading yer clan.”
“It’s my duty, nothing more.” Keifer fingered the braid on his wrist.
“That’s an interesting piece of jewelry,” Owyn said.
Keifer looked at the braid and then at Owyn. “My foster sister gave it to me before I left to come here.”
“Foster sister or lady love?” Donel teased.
“Sister. I have pledged not to marry.” Keifer thought of Nola with a touch of regret for what would never be. But she would always be his foster sister. That thought comforted him.
“Sounds like a fool’s pledge to me,” Donel said. “I caught a glimpse of the lass on her way out. Perhaps you’ll introduce me to her should the occasion arise.”
“Perhaps I will.” But the thought of introducing Nola to a prospective suitor left Keifer decidedly unsettled.
MacPherson Castle
THE MONTHS PASSED IN ENDLESS PROCESSION. Mary was nearly three years old, and Nola enjoyed taking care of her. With Suisan expecting her child any day, Nola took on more and more responsibility for the little girl.
On a damp summer day Nola was helping Suisan sew the last of the new baby’s buntings while Mary took an afternoon nap. Suisan stood often and paced about the solar.
“My lady, what is it? Are you not feeling well?”
Suisan put her hand in the small of her back. “I believe it would be wise to have Will go for the midwife.”
Nola grabbed her cloak and went to the stable to find Will. But only William was there. “My laird, Lady Suisan needs Will to go for the midwife.”
William set aside the shovel he’d been using to clean the barn. “Will’s in the pasture with the sheep. I’ll have to go.”
He rushed toward the keep and Nola hurried after him. Nola remembered her own father’s nervous energy at the birth of Nola’s youngest brother. Nola entered the solar where Suisan still sat sewing, her husband now hovering over her.
Suisan smiled at him. “Go, William. I am fine. But I need mistress Grania to be here.”
William cupped her cheek. “Do not have this babe while I’m gone.”
“I will order the child to obey its father,” she teased him.
William kissed her forehead and left.
“What shall I do?” Nola asked.
“If you could see to Mary, that would be most helpful,” Suisan answered.
“Aye. But until your husband returns, Mary and I will stay with you.”
Suisan walked about the castle, giving orders to the cook for the next day’s meals. She found it increasingly necessary to sit down, and after an hour or so she retired to her chamber.
Mary awoke from her nap, and in an effort to keep the child busy, Nola and Mary fetched the birthing stool and took it to Suisan. She had stripped to her chemise and seemed distracted.
Nola stifled her anxiety. She hated to see her friend and mentor in pain. “Are you all right, my lady?”
“Aye. But the babe is coming faster than the last. I wish William would soon return.”
So did Nola. She knew of Suisan’s history of childbearing difficulties, and the knowledge made her nervous. Though she’d helped with lambing, and even with her mother’s last confinement, Nola had always had someone more experienced to go to if there was a problem. Where were William and the midwife?
Nola kept Mary occupied by playing patty cake with her. But she glanced nervously at the child’s mother from time to time.
Suisan gasped. “I think it would be best if you sent one of the other women to me, Nola. Take Mary elsewhere. And send the midwife as soon as she arrives.”
Nola went to the kitchen and asked Cook to send one of the women to Lady Suisan.
Nola and Mary were playing in front of the fireplace in the hall when William returned with the midwife. The two hastened to the master’s chamber.
It seemed like only a few minutes later that William strode into the hall and came to his child. He picked her up for a hug.
“Where’s Momma?” Mary asked.
“She’s asked a dozen times and doesn’t seem to like my answer,” Nola said.
William set the girl down. “Momma is going to give you a brother or sister today.” He looked to Nola. “The midwife said it won’t be much longer.”
“How is Lady Suisan doing?”
He swallowed hard, looking at the child at his feet. “Well enough. Suisan asked for you to come to her. Go now, I’ll watch Mary.”
Nola hurried to the chamber, then hesitated outside the door. She said a quick prayer for Lady Suisan’s safe delivery and prayed that she could be of some help. Nola blew out a breath and pushed open the door. She walked to where Suisan squatted in the birthing stool.
“Won’t be long now, my lady,” the midwife said. “Yer doin’ fine.” She dabbed a damp cloth on Suisan’s red face. Though she spoke soothingly to Suisan, she cast a worried look toward Nola. Suisan groaned through a contraction. When it passed, she reached out her hand to Nola. Nola took the lady’s hand and looked into Suisan’s eyes, eyes filled with fear. Suisan opened her mouth to speak but was overcome with another pain. With a loud moan Suisan pushed the baby into the world.
“A boy, my lady! ’Tis a boy!” Nola said. But Suisan laid backward, limp, her eyes closed.
Nola soon realized why. A great deal of blood seeped onto the floor. The midwife cleaned the babe and had Nola cut the cord. They wrapped him in a blanket and laid him on Suisan’s chest. She did not respond.
The midwife gently scraped the sweat-plaste
red hair from Suisan’s face. She turned to Nola. “Fetch the laird, lass.”
Nola gestured to the mess they had yet to clean up. “But—”
“No time! Go now!”
Nola ran from the room and found William and Mary where she’d left them.
“You have a son. The midwife bids you come. Quickly.” She warned him with her eyes, of what she wasn’t sure. But she feared for Suisan’s life. Nola watched William’s broad back disappear.
For what seemed like an eternity, she waited while Mary asked over and over where her mother was and could she see the new baby.
A short time later William walked into the hall, holding his newborn son. Tears tracked down his face as he showed the infant to a curious Mary.
Mary took a quick glance and said, “Want to see Momma.”
“Momma is resting, little love. You may see her later.” William exchanged an anguished look with Nola. “Nola. Would you help the midwife? I’ll stay with the children.”
Nola walked slowly to the chamber and discovered what she dreaded—the midwife was washing Suisan’s lifeless body. Suisan looked peaceful, her travail over forever. Nola’s tears would not be held at bay and she grieved for the woman who had befriended her.
Although Nola had helped her mother with her last confinement and knew the trials and dangers, seeing Suisan suffer and die was too much.
She ran from the room, bumping into Will on her way to the chapel. “Oh, Will, I’m so sorry for your loss. So sorry. So sorry for all of us!” She laid a quick hand on his arm and then fled to the chapel, not wanting him to think anything more of her gesture than kindness. There she prayed for Suisan and the family that must go on without her.
Marriage and children were the accepted course for a woman’s life. Providing a nurturing home for a family would challenge Nola to use all of the gifts God had given her. She would welcome the challenge one day. But she wasn’t ready for children. And when she did have them, she was determined it would be with a man she loved, just as Suisan had done. A man Nola was willing to die for.
And that man was not Will Macpherson.
NINE
Homelea
A WEEK OR SO AFTER THEIR CONVERSATION, Keifer came across Donel in the stable, looking up into the rafters. A rope hung from one of the beams. Owyn was near the top, hanging onto the rope with Donel holding the end. Every time Owyn started to climb down, Donel raced about with the rope, causing Owyn to swing wildly. He clung fast, shouting at Donel to stop.
“Aye. Enough Donel. Let him climb down in peace.” What was the man thinking? Owyn wasn’t laughing; it was a prank gone too far already. Could Donel not see it himself?
Donel seemingly obeyed Kiefer’s command, stopping immediately with a sly grin. So abrupt was the stop that it caused the swinging rope to whip backward, flinging Owyn fifteen feet to the stable floor.
Keifer ran to the fallen boy. “Are you all right?”
Owyn had the breath knocked out of him and didn’t move. Keifer rolled him over as Donel bent down to see. Owyn’s arm exploded upward and connected with Donel’s nose.
Unfortunately, it was this blow that Sir Bryan witnessed. “What is the meaning of this?” the knight yelled.
No one said anything.
“Well?” he asked Keifer.
“A prank gone bad, my laird. Nothing more.” Keifer defended his friends. No harm had come of this aside from minor injuries.
Sir Bryan surveyed the bloody nose. “Your loyalty to your mates is admirable, Keifer. Make sure it isn’t misplaced.”
“Aye, my laird.”
“As for you two, keep in mind that I’ll not abide a man who is so stupid as to harm the very men who will fight with him in battle. Do I make myself clear?”
“Aye, my laird,” Owyn and Donel said in unison.
“Good. Now, since all of you seem to have too much time on your hands, see if you can work together to repair the axle on the hay wagon before you come into the hall for supper.”
“Donel,” Sir Bryan said. “I will take you to see Lady Kathryn. She will see to your nose before you join the others.”
As Owyn climbed into the rafters and untied the rope, Keifer watched Donel walk away. Keifer wondered how long it would be until the young man’s foolishness had more serious consequences than a bloody nose.
OCCASIONALLY SIR BRYAN left Homelea to attend to business with the king or, as today, to take his wife to Edinburgh to the market fair. The lady hoped to find new cloth for a dress, and Sir Bryan hoped to find a new milch cow. They would be gone for three days. Sir Bryan’s steward would oversee day-to-day dealings. Keifer, as head squire, would see to the squires’ activities.
Today, the first day of Sir Bryan’s absence, was to be a day of rest for the boys and the horses. Owyn had volunteered to remain at Homelea and keep Keifer company. Donel did his chores before he went into the nearby village to spend time with the girl he was courting.
Keifer decided to use his free time to write to Nola. He’d only sent her two letters in all this time. Part of his excuse was lack of time. Part was the expense of buying writing materials. And partly he feared creating too strong a bond when he had no intention of courting her. It didn’t take much to encourage Nola, and he didn’t want to give her false hope.
Still, he missed the give and take of their friendship. Nola had sent six letters to Keifer, and only in the latest did she chastise him for not writing more often. But she mentioned Will Macpherson frequently. Keifer hadn’t gotten much beyond the salutation of his letter when Owyn burst through the hall doorway and raced to where Keifer sat before the fire.
He skidded to a halt in front of Keifer and gulped air. “By all the saints above, come quick!”
Alarmed, Keifer stood and put a steadying hand on Owyn’s shoulder. “What? Are we under attack?”
“No, not that!” He tugged on Keifer’s tunic. “Donel has gone too far this time. Come before it’s too late.”
Owyn wasted no breath in explanations but sprinted toward the enclosures where the horses had been released for the day. Had Donel given too much grain and foundered one of the beasts? Quickly Keifer reviewed in his mind what little could be done for an animal stricken with severe indigestion. The malady often proved fatal, and Keifer hoped he was wrong about the cause of Owyn’s agitation.
But when Owyn stopped and pointed into the pen, neither of the horses was down. Indeed, what Keifer saw almost made him wish it was founder. Sir Bryan’s new mare, Skye, was in the pen with a stallion. And she appeared to be quite interested in the stallion’s advances.
Disaster! The mare had been purchased to breed with Shadow, Sir Bryan’s war horse, not the inferior animal who had his nose at her tail. Sir Bryan would be furious if the mare accepted this stallion. It would be another year before the man could breed her again. And what if she should be hurt in this encounter or in the birth of an unwanted foal?
“Donel put these two together?”
“Nay. He was in a hurry to leave, or so he said, and asked me to put the horses out for him. The mare must have been behind the hay rack—I didn’t see her in there.”
Or Donel put her in there himself and Owyn was covering for him.
Owyn wrung his hands, as aware of the seriousness of the situation as Keifer. “What are we to do?”
“Get one of them out of there. Somehow.” Keifer had watched Sir Bryan with the mare when she arrived. She was well bred but high strung. And far too interested in the stallion—obviously she was in season. The two stood side by side, the stallion reaching to nip her withers.
She neighed an invitation but sidled away. Keifer’s heart sank.
Neither of the beasts was going to appreciate an interruption to their tryst. But it couldn’t be helped. Donel was going to pay for this.
The halters hung on pegs beside the gate. Keifer grabbed the one for the stallion. “You take the mare’s halter and try to catch her.”
“Wait. I’ll get some grain to distrac
t them.” Owyn hurried away and soon came back with two buckets of grain.
Within minutes it became obvious that the stallion wasn’t hungry.
Furthermore, he seemed to consider Keifer and Owyn as rivals for the mare’s attention. Over and over he put himself between the men and the other horse. When they got too close, the stallion bared his teeth.
Their only success after a quarter of an hour was that they’d kept the animals from mating. With the stallion’s attention on the men, the mare lost interest in him. This was a good sign that she wasn’t truly ready and Keifer’s first hope that this might turn out well after all.
“Maybe we should rope the stallion and tie him,” Owyn suggested.
“And watch him throw himself to the ground in a frenzy to free himself?”
“What then?”
“I’m going to saddle my horse. I will cut the mare away from the stallion and herd her to the gate. You will open the gate for us to get out without letting the stallion out, too.”
“Ye think it will work?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Ye mean besides killing Donel for this?”
Keifer smiled at the jest. “I think we’ll let Donel take his chances with Sir Bryan.”
Owyn gave a weak smile. “We will all answer to the laird for this, I fear.”
With a grim nod Keifer walked off to saddle his horse. He rode the gelding into the pen with the other two. The stallion stood protectively between Keifer’s horse and the mare. Slowly Keifer rode closer, praying the mare would come from behind the stallion out of curiosity. She did, but the stallion quickly chased her back with a nip of his teeth.
Owyn shook the grain bucket, and she trotted from behind her protector and toward the gate. Keifer couldn’t believe his good luck. While Keifer and his gelding shielded him from the stallion, Owyn continued to shake the pail of grain until the mare put her head in the bucket. With practiced moves, Owyn got the halter on her. She followed him out of the gate, and Owyn closed it behind her.
The Promise of Peace Page 11