Rivals for the Crown (33 page)

"We've come to search for Wallace," Fenwick said. "He's not here."

"Who is that standing with you?" "My wife's nephew." "Another MacGannon, then?" "I am," Rory said.

Fenwick's horse danced under him. "I have no argument with you, MacGannon, unless you are keeping company with Wallace. Your brother is peaceable enough."

Neither Rory nor Liam answered.

"Search the house," Fenwick told his men.

Six men dismounted and moved toward the door.

"I told ye that he's not here," Liam said.

"We're searching the house. Move him out of your way." When his men hesitated, Fenwick shouted at them. "Move him aside!"

They stepped forward, but they stopped as Rory raised his arm. There was silence for a moment, then one of the men in the back ran his horse straight at the doorstep, at the same time tossing the

torch he held onto the thatched roof. It bounced off, landing at the corner of the house, where it lit the empty branches of the trees with an eerie light. The horse turned at the last moment, its hooves flying. Rory and Liam dove to the side, leaping back to their feet in time to face the swords of the soldiers who now advanced.

Rory parried his first blow, from a soldier with a grizzled beard and missing teeth. He dispatched the man in three blows. Liam fought by his side, and he could hear shouting. The torches waved wildly as the soldiers fought, some still on horseback, some on foot now. One of the stable lads darted between the horses and thrust a scythe in a man's side, then raced away.

With a war cry, William and the others poured through the broken gate.

Fenwick whirled his horse around, shouting orders. Then, seeing William, he shouted again. "Wallace! It is Wallace!"

William fought his way toward the knight, but there were others he had to deal with first. Rory leapt to grab a soldier by the waist, to yank him off the horse. The man resisted, slicing at Rory, who ducked, then lunged, and the man was unhorsed.

The fighting was slowing around him. Several soldiers, on foot and on horseback, ran for the gate, fighting their way out. Fenwick, rearing his horse, followed them. And William followed Fenwick.

Liam dispatched the man he'd been fighting, then went to the aid of one of the stable lads. Men littered the ground. One of

William's cousins lay mortally wounded, his brother leaning over him. One of the stable lads was dead.

Rory had no time to look more. He faced his opponent, a knight, younger than Fenwick, but trained. And fast. His swordsmanship was excellent. Rory pushed him toward the center of the yard, realizing that they were the only ones left in combat. The knight fought Rory back a few feet, then forward again.

A blow hit Rory's blade but glanced off, the shiver of metal on metal loud in the now quiet yard. He could hear his own
laboured
breathing, and that of the knight. They were both tiring.

Rory battled forward, back three steps, then lunged.

And hit flesh. His blade sank into the man's neck. Rory pulled it back and struck again. The knight's eyes opened wide. He stared at Rory. Raised his arm.

Then fell.

Rory stood over him, his emotions tumbling as the man died.

"Jesu," he said, throwing his head back and looking into the trees.

It was over. The soldiers were dead, or gone. They'd killed four. Two of their own were dead.

Rory let his sword arm fall.

"They meant to do it," Liam said. "They would have burnt us out this night."

"Aye," Rory said woodenly.

"Liam! Liam!" Nell raced through the gate, her hair flying and skirts billowing behind her. She threw her arms around her husband, holding him to her, tears running down her cheeks.

"Oh, dear God, love. Dear God!" she cried, then stepped back as Meg and Elissa flew at their father.

Liam embraced them, assuring them he was fine.

"Get the gate back up," he told the stable lads. "Rory, are ye hurt, lad?"

Rory shook his head.

William and the others came back through the gate. "They got away," William said, then saw the man on the ground in front of Rory. "Well done."

Rory nodded.

Liam, his chest heaving, pulled Nell to him. "Ye're going to Loch Gannon, love. I'll not have ye here any longer."

Nell lay her head on his shoulder and nodded. And sobbed.

A week later Rory was outlawed.

Magnus held his hands up. "Aye, I ken they brought the battle to ye. But why didn't Liam let them search the house?"

"Would ye have?" Rory asked.

"Aye. It's not our battle, Rory. William's battle is not ours! Now ye've killed an English knight and ye have a price on yer head! They can kill ye on sight, Rory! Tell me what ye think will come of this!"

"We had no choice, Magnus! They brought the battle to us."

"No! Ye could have let them look through the house. Aye, it wouldna have been comfortable, but they wouldna have found William and they would have been on their way."

"It wasna like that."

"Listen to me!" Magnus roared. "Have ye made Ayrshire more peaceful? Or have ye made it so we'll all be having English soldiers riding to our doors? Did ye think of the danger ye were placing us in? And not just me and Jocelyn? Nell and Liam and Meg and Elissa. They're in danger, too!"

"That's not my doing!"

"It's not our battle!"

"Nell and Liam are our aunt and uncle, Magnus. It is our battle!"

"Ye damned fool! And that's just what ye are now, Rory, damned! Ye should have let the knight live."

"Why? He would not have let me live. And how is this not our battle, Magnus? Malcolm Wallace was not a wrongdoer. All he did was refuse to swear fealty to the king of another country, even when all around him were willing to do so. That was his crime, that he wasna ready to give his oath to Edward of England. And when he refused—"

"And when he refused he offered up his wife and sons to those in authority to do with what they would. Ye've seen Margaret Wallace. She's a ghost of who she was a year ago. Her life is altered forever. And yer friend William is making sure she has nothing. He's become more than an outlaw, Rory. He's no more than a ruffian with a price on his head. As you are now. What have ye done?"

"So ye would not raise a hand to aid Liam? Ye'd let their house burn?"

"Ye dinna ken they would have burnt him out. And aye, I would think twice before killing a knight."

"So what would ye do, cower behind yer door and let happen what happens?"

"If it would keep Jocelyn safe, I would.

"Yerself safe, ye mean. It's men like ye who allow the English to continue abusing our people."

"And what can one man do? Rory, be honest with yerself. D'ye think ye and Wallace and his brothers, and a handful of friends and cousins, can defeat the whole of Edward's army? D'ye think the lot of ye have a chance of driving English soldiers out of Ayrshire even? If ye did, if I thought it would change the tide, I would join ye. But it will only make things worse for the rest of us and ye'll find yerself living in the bracken wearing filthy clothing and eating acorns for your supper."

"Ah, so it's about comfort, is it, Magnus?"

Magnus pounded the table next to him. "No! It's about being sensible."

"I'd rather be alive, and try to change the godawful way things stand, brother, than hide in my comfortable bed and pretend I'm not hearing the screams of my own people."

"So I'm a coward?"

"What do ye call a man who refuses to look at the bloodshed happening just beyond his door? Does that make him a warrior, Magnus? Would Da do that?"

"Da would be sure he kept Mother safe."

"Not letting the English kill our own knights is a step toward doing that."

"It's a step toward yer own death, Rory."

"We all die, Magnus. But I'll not ask ye again to join us. Ye stay here, safe and warm. I'm off, to live my life before I die."

"Dinna come back."

Rory stopped at the door and faced Magnus. His brother's face was pale, his eyes very dark.

"I mean it, Rory. Dinna come here again. We're trying to live in peace. You're trying to set Ayrshire aflame."

"It is aflame already, Magnus. But ye canna see it over the top of yer walls."

Rory hated that he and his brother had argued. In all their years they'd never talked so to each other, and he regretted his accusations. Magnus was right. In taking on William's cause, he'd put those he loved in jeopardy.

He went back to Liam and Nell immediately after and told them. Nell, packing their things, preparing to go to Loch Gannon, was saddened. And disappointed in Magnus, Rory could tell. She did not put it into words, but he saw her press her lips together.

"I dinna ken what will happen now," Rory said, "but I canna stay with Magnus. I'm sure the English will come looking for me here, which is why I came to tell ye farewell. And safe journey."

He looked at Meg and Elissa, his lovely young cousins, who watched him with wide eyes. "I am sorry this happened. Tell my parents, and Kieran and the rest of the family on Skye, the truth of it, not the garbled story they're sure to hear."

"We will," Liam said.

Nell shook her head. "Oh, Rory! Thank ye for doing what ye did here!"

"I'm glad I was here. And now what, Liam? Are we to sit on our hands while men are killed around us?"

"No."

The calm in Liam's voice made Rory take notice. He saw the glance that Liam and Nell exchanged.

"There are other ways, lad."

"What are they, Liam? I'm ready."

"Not now. Not yet. I'll get my lasses safely away first."

Rory nodded. "I'll go now, before anyone sees me."

Nell cried, embracing him. His cousins hugged him, but he knew they did not know what to make of all this. And to tell the truth, neither did he. Liam walked him outside, where they talked for a moment. Then Liam gave Rory a handful of coins.

"This will help ye a bit. Let me ken where ye are. I dinna tell ye in front of Nell, lad, but we're not alone in this. There was another lass raped, over in Dunlop, and some of us are going to find out who did it. But we'll wait until June."

"Do ye think having a king will change anything?" Rory asked. "Will it help?"

"Depends on who it is. The three Robert Bruces are already sleeping with the English. The youngest Robert is with King Edward, playing courtier. Who's to say any of them even remember they're Scottish? Would Balliol be any better? I dinna ken. All I ken for sure is people are dying and being maimed while our leaders do nothing, and it canna stay like this. So off ye go, with William, and for God's sake keep yerself safe, aye?"

"Tell Kieran—"

"No." Liam held up his hands. "Dinna send any word to Skye, or Kieran will be joining ye and I canna do that to his parents. It's bad enough that ye are where ye are. Ye dinna ken the fear a parent feels, Rory, when yer child is in danger. God keep ye safe, lad. And send for me if ye need me." He embraced Rory, then clapped him on the shoulder. "Get ye gone."

Rory leapt onto the horse. "Tell Magnus I'm sorry."

"I will, lad," Liam said. "Now get ye gone."

Rory thanked him and rode away. He had no idea where he would go.

Margaret MacMagnus woke from a sound sleep to find she was alone in bed. Gannon stood at the door to their bedchamber, looking out at the last of the night. Already the morning light, dim as it was, had lit the earth once more, allowing her to see the set of his shoulders, the weariness there. And more.

"What is it?" she asked, clasping the bedcover to her as she sat

up.

Gannon turned to her with haunted eyes. "I had a dream of Rory."

"Oh, dear God, Gannon, dinna tell me he's hurt. Or dead!" She leapt from the bed, pulling her night robe closer as she went to him. "Tell me it's not that."

"No," he said slowly. "I'm not thinking he's dead. But that something has shifted. Something has changed in his life, something unalterable."

"And Magnus?"

"It's like a storm has centered on our sons, Margaret. But it's not Magnus at the center. It's Rory."

"Are ye sure, love, are ye sure that Rory's in danger?"

Gannon pulled her against him. "No. The dreams are not that clear, and I can never tell exactly what the whispers are saying. But it's Rory, that much I ken."

"Ye'll go to him."

"Aye."

"Shall I go with ye?"

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, stay here, lass, if ye would. I'm not sure Rory is where I think he is. What if he comes home, in need of us and we're both gone?"

"Aye," she said. "When will ye leave, then?"

"With the change of the tide."

Which he did.

She waited impatiently for his return, not climbing to the top of the headland as she usually did, because of the continual storms that battered the coastline. She wrote to Nell, but the messengers who had regularly carried messages from clan to clan were no longer reliable, and Gannon would be there by ship long before her