Chapter 31
Stifling! The air in the solar was stifling, or perhaps it was simply the fire from tempers flaring the same as a bonfire on first frost. Keirah’s eyes darted toward those who exchanged harsh words – a third time.
If Sir Kolbein hadn’t just freshly arrived shortly after they had emerged from the bailey into the keep, would she and Aonghus be having a very different bonfire by passion right now? Absolutely!
Her attention snapped back onto the dire surroundings. “Sir Kolbein, you refuse to present my offer to King H?konsson?” the King of Scots demanded, his nostrils flaring from rage. That is not good.
Sir Kolbein took a step closer toward the throne her lord king sat upon with everyone else standing in the chamber, which now seemed cramped at the size by males and egos. It’s like its own mini battlefield right here in this solar.
Let’s see…for team Northmen there’s Lord Kollungr, the bishops sent by King H?konsson, and Sir Kolbein on one side, then our team Scots on the other is King Alexander, the Lord Chamberlain, the Lord Constable, and even the Lord Chancellor, whom I have barely seen since the clergyman married me and Aonghus.
The only thing missing? Yep, the banners.
At least the reserve warriors, Sir James along with Sv?rn and Torsten, waited out in the passageway.
Aonghus’s brothers with Sir Brayden were most likely occupying the bailey.
Sir Kolbein adjusted his palms on the chainmail draping his broad torso.
“King Alexander, your offer, fruitful as it is, will not be accepted by my lord king. The isles belonging to Bute, Arran, and Cumbraes will stay in the hands in which they currently stand,” he rebutted, his flaxen brows furrowed into a point.
“There is also the question of trust. Word has reached my king there is a rather sizable gathering belonging to Scottish forces, apparently hidden in the terrain’s south. ”
Raging hell – they knew! How? Keirah locked eyes with Aonghus.
Those forces, which were headed north to join the warriors already gathered, were knights almost five hundred strong.
They had been summoned in secret at Alexander’s command.
Callum and Alec had spoken upon this only hours ago at a private conversation she’d shared between the three of Clan MacCade.
No one knew. So, who had told the Northmen?
Her fingers twitched; there was a traitor in their midst. She darted her gaze toward King Alexander.
What a master at emotional concealment. But wait…
was this now fury he showed after he set his palms upon the throne’s arms and stood?
Yep, it seemed the king had his limits too.
“Trust!” The king spat the word. “You do not harbor the meaning, Sir Kolbein. Every noble is well aware your lord king surrounds himself with a force nearing twenty thousand!” Alexander was now the one to step forward like a predator eyeing its prey.
“King H?konsson has deemed it necessary to bring his forces to plead his terms; am I not allowed the same courtesy?” Excellent point.
Sir Kolbein’s feet gave a tiny anxious shuffle. “Indeed, you are, lord king; my apologies.”
Time, please, Alexander. Her pulse rose; more time was needed.
“You will not in good faith place the missive before your king?” Alexander lowered his voice. Brillant, it will buy more time!
“I am sorry, no; my king H?konsson seeks another resolution,” Sir Kolbein replied.
Ugh! A stalemate. “My sole purpose in venturing here is an offer from King H?konsson directly.” Silence stole the chamber with the exception of the sound from a stray finch upon the high rafters who chirped with a jovial fashion not reflecting the expressions present.
Sir Kolbein took another step toward the king; despite the ‘goodwill’ talks, Aonghus’s hand covered his axe’s hilt, prepared. “King Alexander, my lord king H?konsson proposes a gathering of all your forces to parley peace or fight to decide the victor. This is his last offer.”
Alexander smoothed his fingers over the dark wiry beard.
“Leave us the chamber a moment,” he demanded at the Northern delegation.
A rustle of furs and leather proceeded, with Sir James casting her a look when he re-shut the door while remaining outside the passage.
The expression he wore at her spoke traitor, and Sir James didn’t even know someone had revealed the location of the concealed knights.
“Lord King,” the Lord Constable gushed as soon as the seal on the door caught, “five hundred knights against a force nearing twenty thousand.”
“Very perceptive of you, Lord Constable, good to know your hearing is still as it should be,” the Lord Chamberlain said, wryly. “We were all gathered in the same solar.”
Alexander ignored the chamberlain’s dry jest and eyed the constable. “Has there been any fresh word from Stewart?” the king inquired.
He had to be referring to Alexander Stewart, of Dundonald, a legend all his own for having fought in the seventh crusade. Stewart must have advanced in all his efforts sought after taking leave from the castle upon their arrival. She leaned forward.
“Aye, King H?konsson’s ship is currently upon the waters of Clyde heading north toward the Cumbraes, bein’ watched and followed as requested in your missive. Your knights are gathered with him and ready for his command upon your word, my lord king.”
The king sat back on his heels while saying gravely, “A command which will march them into a certain slaughter.” His gaze caught on her and she grew to be a stone. “My lady, what say you?”
Salt stung the back of her glance. Dammit!
No! She would not cry, and she would not show weakness; this king deserved more.
Get it together! “Forgive me, my lord king, the fates have not shown me a more stringent timing upon when the storm shall rage,” she explained.
“There is a night-glance where I have seen you signing the treaty you seek; the sum you pay for the Isles, ’tis four thousand marks and an annual payment to King H?konsson’s successor, his son… ”
The man of the cloth, the Lord Chancellor, gave a gasp to interrupt: “My lady, where did you learn of this amount?”
“Lady Keirah declared it to be a foreshadow.” The Lord Constable rolled his crinkled eyes.
“Aye,” she confirmed and meet the three advisors’ bulgy stares. “Why do you seem taken back by the amount? ’Tis a fair trade our lord king offers…”
“Forgive them, my lady,” the king broke in to explain, “the amount you have seen is the very same which lies in the sealed missive upon this table your eyes have yet to behold.”
The Lord Chancellor’s expression changed to a mask of accusation. “Sir James has made his belief known that you are a traitor. Who would have told the Northmen regarding the knights gathered?” Oh no he didn’t.
What was next? A tunic with “Traitor – throw fruit here” embroidered upon the front?
Aonghus stepped up at once with a glare. “Are you callin’ my lady a traitor and spy to the crown? The very same Scotswoman who chanced more than you have ever been asked to in standing here before you?” My knight in shining chainmail.
“Nae, Sir Aonghus.” Alexander looked sternly at the chancellor.
“He is simply a man of the cloth tryin’ to place the elements into a circle when ’tis a square.
” The red hue belonging to her knight’s face eased and Alexander turned back toward her with a questioning look for her to finish the original query.
She replied, “My lord king, I take solace the night-glance deemed worthy to reveal the outcome. Why, I put to the fates? Why bother to reveal it to me at all? The path we walk must be the just one; time is still our strongest ally.”
“Aye, my lady,” the Lord Constable murmured somberly. “However, I believe our ally has just fled. We have nae more to give.” So true, dearest friend.
“Perhaps you have a turn to take.” The Lord Chamberlain wiped his shiny scalp when all eyes fixed onto him.
“Lord Kollungr, he seeks you, Lady Keirah. I need only catch a glimpse at his expression each time you cross a threshold. In this very chamber, Sir Aonghus, you have declared he swore never to leave these shores without Lady Keirah at his side.” That isn’t going to go over with the Highland bull.
Aonghus widened his stance. “Surely you are not offering my wife as bait?”
“Time,” the lord of coin clarified. “What if Lady Keirah can bide us this precious commodity?” The bald scalp then turned toward Alexander with his plan.
“Dismiss Sir Kolbein and I see Lord Kollungr stepping forth with an offer for Lady Keirah to return before King H?konsson – our time sought for the storm to come to pass is bought.”
“With a lady’s soul,” the Lord Constable scoffed, stunned. “What of the moon cycle? It may well be the next – what then?” Ugh, he may be right!
The Lord Chamberlain ignored the question and posed his own challenge at her. “Have you not stated that you have held a glance where you stand before King H?konsson with Sir Aonghus by your side?” Yet, so was he!
“Aye,” she concurred.
“If I am mistaken? Then the delegation leaves, and we are where we currently stand; we shall be forced to send the five hundred knights into war,” the chamberlain finished, gravely, “and death.”
Keirah met her knight’s gaze; a fist clutched her heart.
Aonghus. Aonghus would be one of those knights headed to slaughter that the chamberlain spoke of.
Perhaps this was their fate – taking a chance to stand before H?konsson, buying the time needed, and battle the storm for survival. What could possibly go wrong?
The king must have seen her struggle. “Allow me to try once again,” he offered toward her gently.
She asked, “If Sir Kolbein refuses?” Her stomach twisted.
His brow gave a tiny bow to the fates. “War,” King Alexander replied.
The Lord Constable and the Lord Chamberlain said in unison, “War.”
The clergyman Lord Chancellor looked heavenward. “War, may God have mercy!”
“Sir Aonghus,” the king commanded, “bid them to return.” A stiffness took his steps at the order.
A solid creak sounded from the forged hinges and she cringed at the sound. The finch flew out. If only she and her knight were part of the finch’s flock.