Chapter Eighteen
Carlisle, Lockerbie, Moffatt.
Scottish towns didn’t look much different from English towns, or so Diamantha thought.
Scotland’s topography wasn’t too much different from England’s except there seemed to be a lot of mountains and a lot of lakes, or lochs as the Scottish called them.
They had stopped in the Scottish towns at night to eat and sleep, and for the most part they had been met with hospitable people.
Not that Diamantha had expected otherwise, but Cortez hadn’t been so sure.
All of the knights had been on alert since the moment the party had passed over the border.
Diamantha and Sophie had been forced to ride in the wagon, even in the excellent mild weather they had been experiencing, which had made Sophie somewhat restless, even with her pets to keep her busy.
Diamantha, meanwhile, had passed the time sewing on the little tunics they had purchased for Sophie in Penrith.
She was an excellent seamstress and the garments were turning out beautifully.
Distracted with her sewing and also with her restless daughter, she could still feel the edginess of the knights as they traveled deeper and deeper into Scots territory.
The two new knights they had picked up in Penrith, St. Héver and Pembury, had brought a good deal of power to reinforce Cortez’s ranks.
When Cortez had explained their reasoning for joining the quest, Diamantha had been very touched.
It would seem that Robert had many men who were fond of him and their loyalty to her dead husband pleased her immensely.
Now, it seemed to be more than just a widow trying to find her husband’s remains.
It was a host of his friends that would join her.
Diamantha was coming to learn a good deal about loyalty from these knights who had fought and died together.
The great questing was taking on more dimensions, now with added friends who would see Robert returned for a proper burial, too.
So the days passed too slowly and the nights too quickly.
The days were full of quiet travel because Cortez was fearful of noise, fearful it would draw a horde of Scots to their doorstep.
Nothing was worse in Scotland than hearing a Sassenach accent on Scots soil.
Therefore, the men traveled silently and heavily armed, making their way along the dirt roads in brittle silence.
The last time most of them had been in Scotland, it had been to fight a great and terrible battle.
It was therefore reasonable to expect that they would be conditioned to be in battle mode every time they walked upon Scots earth.
Diamantha could see it in everything about them. They were an enemy in enemy lands.
On their third day into Scotland, they stopped for the night in a small town called Moffatt. It was a charming town nestled in the rolling lowland hills, with a rather large town square that was surrounded by homes and businesses.
As the group moved into the town close to sunset, the merchants were beginning to close their shops for the night but Diamantha needed more thread for her sewing, so Cortez and Keir found a merchant with all manner of fabric and threads, and convinced the man to stay open long enough for Diamantha to do some shopping.
She did, with Sophie on her hip as she perused the dry goods.
As dark clouds began to roll in overhead and a chill wind picked up, Cortez and Keir stood watch over Diamantha while the rest of the knights took the horses over to the enormous trough in the town square to allow the animals to drink.
Cortez’s men fanned out around the square, exhausted from a day’s journey and taking a few moments to rest as Lady de Bretagne shopped for thread.
But it was more than thread she found, she also found gorgeous bolts of Ferguson tartan, with blues and greens and reds, and she very much wanted some.
They were in Ferguson country, after all, so the merchant carried a good deal of the fabric which was made locally by old Ferguson widows from Ferguson sheep.
The merchant was thrilled to sell her a hefty measure of the tartan, which was very warm, and Diamantha happily bought it, along with several spools of red, blue, and white thread.
She also added to her sewing case by purchasing a new thimble, needles made of iron, and a pair of new shears also made from iron.
As she bartered for the price, Sophie grew restless and she put the little girl down, calling to Cortez to watch out for the child as the she wandered in his direction.
Cortez and Keir turned to watch the little girl, who strolled out of the merchant’s stall and promptly squatted down to pick some small yellow flowers that were growing at the base of a spindly tree nearby.
Keir’s gaze lingered on the lass, bundled up against the cold weather.
“My son celebrated his first year of life back in July,” he said, almost wistfully.
“In fact, he celebrated it when I was fighting at Falkirk. He is very curious about everything, much like your little Sophie is, except he is curious about any manner of bug that crosses his path. He frightens his mother with them constantly.”
Cortez grinned as he watched Sophie yank up the weeds. “With Sophie, it is animals,” he said. “You have seen her collection, of course.”
Keir nodded. “You have quite a menagerie of fat and happy animals,” he said. “Children should have pets. I think it teaches them about the value of life. My son already has a pony.”
Cortez glanced at him. “Does he ride it?”
Keir nodded firmly. “Indeed he does,” he insisted. “And he does not fall off. The same cannot be said for many children his age.”
Cortez laughed at Keir’s proud boasting.
He was about to say something when Diamantha caught his attention.
She was evidently finished shopping and needed him to pay the bill.
He excused himself, leaving Keir to watch over Sophie.
As Cortez and Diamantha paid for the booty, the big knight with the white-blond hair made his way over to the little girl as she fussed with her posies.
“Those are very nice flowers,” he commented.
Sophie looked up at him and Keir noticed what Cortez had noticed also. She was the image of her father with her big blue eyes and dark blond hair.
“I am going to feed them to my rabbit,” she said.
Keir pretended to be very interested. “Is that so?” he said. “Does your rabbit have a name?”
Sophie nodded. “His name is Clover,” she said. Then, she reached up and took his hand. “I have a pony. Would you like to see him?”
Before Keir could answer, he found himself being dragged across the road to the cluster of de Bretagne men and their wagons.
Sophie pulled him between the wagons, coming to a very fat black and white pony who was chewing happily on the thick grass that was sprouting up in spots around the square.
She went right to pony’s head and shoved the flowers into its mouth, which it hungrily crunched on.
Keir stood over the pair, watching with a smile on his face. He found that he missed his son, remembering the boy and his little blond pony. He missed his wife, too. As he stood over the nuzzling pair, hands on his hips, he heard a shout from behind.
Looking up, he saw Cortez and Diamantha heading in his direction. Cortez was carrying his wife’s load of loot, putting it into the wagon bed as he eyed Keir.
“So she lured you into seeing her pony, too, did she?” he asked, brushing off his hands after depositing the load. “That is her usual path. I hadn’t known her five minutes before she was dragging me off to the stables to see General.”
Keir grinned, watching the little girl pet the pony’s velvety nose and laughing when he nibbled at her. “He is a handsome beast,” he said.
Cortez nodded, watching Sophie and the pony for a moment longer before stroking his chin and looking about the town. His manner was thoughtful.
“Speaking of handsome beasts, I plan to get myself into a bath tonight before my wife refuses to come near me because I smell too badly,” he said.
“The fabric merchant said that there is a traveler’s inn on the opposite side of the square called The White Star.
There should be a board with a star painted on it somewhere but I do not seem to see it. ”
Keir was looking around, too, spying the structure across the square. “There it is,” he said, pointing. “Is that our destination tonight?”
Cortez squinted at the building in the distance.
Like his brother, his eyesight at a distance wasn’t too keen.
“For the knights it is,” he said. “I will make the arrangements. Make sure the men bed down somewhere in close range. They may camp if they wish but not too far away. I want to be moving out by sunrise. Will you please see to it?”
Keir nodded, moving away from Cortez to carry out the man’s orders as Cortez pried Sophie away from her pony.
The dark clouds overhead were growing darker and the wind was picking up.
Random drops of rain began falling as a storm began to settle.
Cortez took Sophie and Diamantha carrying the animal cage, with Merlin trailing along behind them carrying all of their bags, and crossed the square to The White Star inn on the other side.
The structure stood by itself, not crowded by other buildings, and was a very long, very slender three-storied establishment.
The construction was waddle and daub, with exposed external beams for additional support, and they passed into the entrance, right beneath a massive board upon which a white star was painted.