Rivals for the Crown (27 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Givens

Tags: #Outlaws, #Man-Woman Relationships, #England, #Historical, #Knights and Knighthood - England, #Scotland, #General, #Romance, #Scotland - History - 1057-1603, #Historical Fiction, #Great Britain - History - 13th Century, #Fiction, #Love Stories

BOOK: Rivals for the Crown
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There was silence.

"Never!" Gannon shouted, and Rory joined him. "Never!"

Edward's expression did not change. "Then pay the price, Highlander. One more or less of you does not change a thing. A

score more or less of you changes nothing." His voice grew louder. "I will have this! It is my right!"

"Never," Rory shouted.

He followed his father as Gannon made his way through the crowd, Kieran, Davey, and Liam at their heels as they strode from the Hall, from the Tower, from Norham itself. None of them spoke as they crossed the river, though all around them Scots were shouting their anger and disbelief at what had just happened. They rode like madmen for a mile. Then the talk began. The five of them ex-postulating on all that had happened, and all they feared would happen now. The road was well known to them, and they paid little attention to their route, nor to how far ahead of their men they had ridden.

"He means to do it," Davey said. "Edward. He means to take Scotland."

"He has done it," Gannon said. "Our own leaders gave Scotland away today. We watched it."

"I dinna believe they would all do it," Rory said. "I kept thinking one of them would refuse."

"What?" Liam asked. "And lose his lands in England? And in Scotland? They have always acted in their own interest. Nothing changes."

They rode into the trees atop a hill, the silence in the shadow of the trees stopping their conversation. The very air seemed to withdraw, the creatures of the forest gone from sight. The men slowed, their horses' hooves quiet on the soft dirt of the road, with its dusting of green leaves. It was cool here, welcome after their hours in the sun, and Rory pushed back his hair with a sigh, realizing where they were. Just on the other side of this copse of trees lay the crossroad, where he would stop and tell them that he was off to Berwick, not Stirling. He leaned back in the saddle to stretch, imagining Isabel's expression when she saw him.

He did not hear the first arrow but saw it instead, as it embedded itself into the trunk of the tree next to him. Then another, closer, but still missing him. If he had not stretched at that moment.. .He whirled to call a warning, but the attackers were already upon them, and the others busy defending themselves and shouting to each other. There were a score or more Scots attacking them. Young. A few Highlanders mixed with Lowlanders. Mercenaries, perhaps, for some of the words they spoke to each other were unintelligible.

"MacGannon! There he is!" one shouted, and two of them set upon him.

Rory fought them off, Kieran rushing to his aid.

"Ye'll pay for yer sins, MacGannon," one man shouted, his eyes blazing with fury. "Ye'll die for them."

But the man was the one who died instead, as Kieran's blade ran through him. It was chaos for a moment, then over as their own men arrived, making short work of the attackers. They killed several; the others rode off, whooping loudly as though they had been victorious. Rory and his father, on horseback, a little removed from the others, watched the attackers leave.

"They kent yer name," Gannon said. "It was ye they were after, Rory."

Rory nodded, catching his breath. "Aye, Da. Aye, I ken."

"Ye'll no' be going to Stirling, lad, where they could pick ye off in a crowd. I'm getting ye somewhere safe. Ye'll go to Magnus."

"Da, I'm going to Berwick."

"God's blood, dinna argue with me! I'll not be the one telling yer mother that ye're..." Gannon stopped. When he continued, his voice was quieter. "It's Isabel ye're wanting to see, aye?"

"It has been a verra long time since I saw her."

"Aye. And since ye let it go this long, I'm thinking the lass doesna mean as much to ye as ye first thought."

"She means more." Rory glanced at the now empty road before them, then back at his father. "I tried to forget her, Da. What have I to offer a lass like her? She's English, I'm a Highlander. We're

either about to be occupied by the English, or we're going to war with them. We have little in common, and little of worth between us. I am a younger son."

"Ye'll have the Ayrshire lands one day."

"Aye, sir. One day, and I'm not in any hurry for that day to come. We're too different, she and I, our lives have been so verra different. It would never work. She's happy at last in Berwick with her friends, and I could never live there."

"And ye've been telling yerself that since ye saw her last?"

"Aye."

"D'ye believe it yet?"

"I'm trying to."

"But ye still want to see her?"

"I do."

Gannon moved the reins back and forth, then looked into Rory's eyes. "I'm asking ye not to go to Berwick. For me. For yer mother. And for the lass herself."

"For the lass? Why?"

"If ye love a lass, ye have a responsibility to keep her safe, aye?"

"Aye." Rory saw where his father's argument was going and felt his heart sink. "Ye're thinking I'd be bringing danger to her."

"There are men willing to follow ye and kill ye and whomever ye're with. Today we fought them off. Could she? And after ye're gone, they'd kent who she is. They could reach her any time and ye'd be far away. Is that what ye want?"

Rory
looked out over the road for a long moment, remembering his fine eyes filled with fear when Walter Langton had talked to them that day at the Tower. Isabel in jeopardy. He sighed, then nodded. "I'll go to Ayrshire."

 

STIRLING CASTLE, SCOTLAND

 

Nell MacDonald Crawford heard the riders pound into the courtyard, heard the greetings and the excitement in the voices of the men who welcomed them. She longed to hurry to the window and see who had arrived, and whether Liam was among them, but Nell kept her gaze on the priest who stood before her with a
sombre
expression. She folded her hands at her waist, trying to appear not only attentive but also contrite.

"I'm sure you understand why I had to speak with you, milady," the priest said. "It is not the first time."

Nell swallowed her irritation. He was a good man, if entirely without
humour
. But then, she reminded herself, how could he

possibly understand? He had never been a lass. Of course the priest was correct. Her girls should not be stealing looks at the lads during the sermon, even an interminable one on the duty of a dying Christian to clear his soul of sin. But Meg was fifteen and Elissa only thirteen.

"I am sorry. Father. I will speak to them immediately," she said, glancing at her daughters who were standing out of earshot against the wall.

Meg was tall, like Nell's sister, Margaret, after whom she'd been named. Elissa had not reached her full height, but she already had a penchant for getting herself in trouble. As Nell had had at that age. And sometimes still did.

The priest shook his head sorrowfully. "It cannot happen again."

"No, Father," Nell said apologetically. "I will speak to them, be assured of that. But ye ken that such young lasses may find it difficult to be thinking of their own deaths."

"They are very young." The priest nodded, as though realizing their youth for the first time.

Nell bit her tongue, anxious to go downstairs and see who had arrived. She could hear the voices outside, some raised in anger. But none of them Liam's. The noise quieted and the knot in her stomach loosened. Nell bobbed a curtsy and made her escape, motioning for her daughters to follow her down the stairs.

"Well, Mama? Are we to face death?" Meg asked.

"Ye'll not take that tone, young lady," Nell said. "I am weary of making excuses for the two of ye. Ye'll mind yerselves next time or I'll tell the priest he needs to spend time instructing ye on how to save yer souls. God kens ye need it."

"But, Mama, ye've said ye were just like us when ye were young," Elissa said, clattering behind her. "Tell us again what it was like."

"Ye came here during the reign of King Alexander III and Queen Margaret...," Meg prompted. "Scotland was at peace. That's how ye always start it."

Nell sighed. She could never stay angry at her girls for long. "Aye. It was a
marvellous
place to be. The court was filled with music and laughter, and the king seemed to prize his people. I was verra young. I thought Alexander's court was the center of the world. Davey came occasionally, and Gannon and Margaret—"

"Were
favourite
s of the king," Meg finished. "Until Gannon—"

"Was banished," Nell said. "For saving my life. We will not speak of that." But all these years later she still thought of that dreadful time, followed by the lonely years. And then, at long last, Liam.

"So what will we do, Mama? Will we stay after the new king is chosen?"

"Depends on who it is," Nell said. "I canna see the Bruces wanting us to stay on. And I canna see the Balliols letting us go. We'll have to wait and see."

Below them the wooden door to the stairwell banged against the wall, and they heard the sound of boots on stone.

"Nell! Nell, is that ye up there?"

"Aye! Liam, we're here!" Nell lifted her skirts and ran down the stairs like a young girl to meet him. He was not alone. He'd come up several steps, the space behind him filled with his men, but she saw only the foremost man, into whose open arms she threw herself.

"Liam!" she cried, kissing him soundly, heedless of those watching.

Her husband's face was weary, his clothes dusty from his journey. But it was the look in his eyes when he met her gaze that made her heart leap, and her excitement at his return fade. He was angry. Beyond angry.

"My love," she asked, "what is the news?"

"They swore their loyalty to him, Nell. Every damned one of them."

"What did ye do?"

"We left. Many others did the same, but many more did not. And Edward is demanding that all the royal castles be given into his hands. He's sending troops to occupy them. Stirling will be one of the first." He nodded at her gasp. "And there's more. He's called for a court to be set up, of auditors who will decide who should be king, overseen by Edward, of course. They'll start next month. In Berwick. Now come, yer brother and Gannon await."

Liam threw the door open to their rooms and swept her into her brother's embrace. Nell turned from Davey to Gannon.

"Nell," Gannon said, embracing her. "It's good to be back."

"It's good to have ye back. I ken ye'll hurry home to Margaret, but at least ye're here tonight." She stepped back to let her girls embrace their uncles, then poured a cup of wine for herself and sat down with the men.

They told her again what had happened in Norham. Nell studied her brother while she listened. Davey never seemed to age. His hair was still dark, his demeanor always cheerful, despite all that had happened in his life. Davey had his lands on Skye, his wife Maureen at his side, and his castle almost completed. Nell had Liam and their wonderful girls. God had been good to them.

And to Margaret as well, she thought, looking fondly at her brother-in-law. Or perhaps Gannon was the fortunate one there. Her sister was a prize beyond value. How all their lives had changed. And now.. .would it be war again? She glanced at her

daughters—she would bargain her soul to keep them safe. She turned to find Liam watching her and knew he'd guessed her thoughts.

"Will you sign the oath?" Nell asked the men.

"I willna do it," Gannon said. "I'm not a Scot."

Liam snorted. "Ye married one, produced several, and ye've owned and lived on Scottish land for decades. Ye're one of us now, and the king may send men to the Highlands to convince ye of just that."

"I'm thinking the king has better things to do than send men to Loch Gannon or Skye to ensure we swear fealty to him."

"But Magnus is in Ayrshire, and easily reached," Nell said.

"Aye," Gannon said. "Which is why I told Rory to tell his brother to swear to Edward, and why I want Rory to stay with Magnus. I want my lads safe."

"Kieran wants to go to Berwick for the hearings," Davey said, "and to see this Rachel. She's captured his fancy something fierce. Maybe it will pass. He's young."

"And how old were ye when ye met Maureen, lad?" Nell asked him.

"Nine. But that was different."

"Aye. Ye were captives together. But ye remembered her, even when ye were sold to the Danes and went to Jutland. And ye went back for her, young as ye were."

Davey gave her a half smile. "That was different, Nell."

She sighed. "So we'll be getting English soldiers here, at Stirling?"

"Aye," Liam said. "They'll use Stirling as a base to monitor the countryside. And then, of course, Edward will be coming here himself."

"I'm glad I live on the edge of the world," Davey said. "Our Comyn cousins are already telling me I should have signed the oath."

"We need to be invisible now," Gannon said. "Lay as low as ye can. Perhaps all this will pass when the king is chosen. Balliols and Bruces will still hate each other, aye, but the rest of us can get back to our lives. Let us not draw attention to ourselves. Let the madmen fight between themselves."

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