Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
A lix frowned as she held up a candle, the scent of it something she'd never smelled before. It smelled faintly of heather and pine from the forest.
Kaylen chased down her youngest bairn, balancing him on her hip as she pointed out several more.
"I've added the scent. It helps ride the smell of the cook fires," she rolled her eyes, "And other things, ye ken?"
Alix nodded. There were times, closed in by weather at the great hall, that not even her abundance of sweet grasses and pine boughs stemmed the stench of cook fires, unwashed bodies, and the hounds who often dragged all manner of things, dead and rotting, into the hall.
As she spoke with Kaylen, sampling some of the fragrant candles, Eben followed her like a shadow.
She had hoped to avoid an encounter even though his father's shop was next to the candle makers, but he had seen her as soon as she set foot in the village and followed her into the stone cottage that was both home and shop for Kaylen and her family.
At the back of the shop, the sound of bubbling vats blended with tallow and different scents, while overhead long tapers-- some as small around as her finger, others as large as her arm--hung from the rafters as the wax cooled.
She had come with an order that her grandmother had given her, candles much preferred for the great hall and the private chambers of the keep, while torches were used along the outer wall and ramparts.
"The Fraser has ordered more weapons from my father's forge," Eben turned up his nose at the subtle fragrance.
"Tis said that he intends to send most of the clan to join with others."
Join up with the other clans.
Ever since the one called De Brus had ridden in, the chieftain had met long with other Fraser kinsmen, Gabhran, and Ruari.
"It's been decided then," Kaylen said.
A cold knot of fear twisted deep inside. That explained the activity Alix had seen in the yard when she left the keep earlier that morning. She had looked for Ruari, but had not seen him among the men there. She remembered all too well when he had first returned, nearer dead than alive. Surely, he would not go with them.
"Aye," Eben was smug with what he had learned. "Word is that they plan to leave in two days time. Father was at the forge all night, and still this morn. "
Two days?
Did that mean that Ruari would ride with them, barely recovered from his wounds?
"I'll not keep ye from your work," she replied, with a new urgency to return to the keep. She frowned as Kaylen wrapped the slender candles in linen and handed them to her. Her husband would deliver the larger order by cart. She thanked Kaylen and gave the child a quick hug.
Eben fell into step beside her instead of returning to his father's shop,.
"Yer grandmother keeps ye long hours at the hall," he commented.
"There is much work, and many ailments and injuries now that the weather is warm and with the men who arrived these days past."
"Or the injuries of one?" he replied, a frown at his mouth.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her back around when she would have continued on the path to the keep.
"I would speak with ye, Alix... "
It was late, shadows slipping into darkness at the edges of the cottages and shops.
"Ye know my feelings... : he began. "A mon such as him, outlawed they say, with a bounty put on him by the Church, for God's sake. He's no mon for ye, Alix."
She tried to twist free.
"Ye go too far, speaking of the chieftain's brother this way. When you speak against him, ye speak against the chieftain. And well ye know, Eben McGinley, that I care for any who are injured."
But he would not be put off.
"I care for ye, Alix, I can provide for ye. And ye've always cared for me, aye?"
She stared at him as if he had lost what little sense he had.
"Well ye know it," he went on in a rush. "You said as much when I tumbled from the tree and ye thought I had kilt meself all those years ago. Ye took care of me and said ye didna wish me to die."
Now she was certain he had lost any sense he had.
"We were children, and I said it out of friendship and fear for ye, and nothing more. And I'll not play this game now! I must get back to the hall."
"Back to the outlaw?" he blurted out.
She slapped him, hard, her hand tingling with it.
"Ye are an addle-pated clot, Eben McGinley!" When he would have come at her, she pulled out the dirk she carried and pointed it at him.
"Ye need to go, Eben. Now!"
Beneath the sparse stubble of beard, color flooded his, his expression a mixture of wounded pride and anger.
For a moment she was certain he would come at her, the blade or no', except for the sound of his father calling him. Still he hesitated, then suddenly turned as his father called again, and stalked to the smithy shop.
In spite of the fact that daylight had long faded, several of the chieftain's groomsmen were at the yard when she returned. Leather harness had been cleaned. Leather packs had been set out. Horses were tended by the herdsman and his son, metal shoes replaced in the light of torches. Fraser kinsmen filled the practice yard, but instead of practicing, they prepared weapons wrapped in leather to keep the blades sharp and clean as she had seen in the past when the warriors of the clan made ready to ride out.
So, it was true, they made preparations to leave Lechlede. Surely Ruari would not go with them. It was too soon, his wounds not yet fully healed. But that coldness of foreboding was there. All these years, even the ones he had been away and changed, she knew him.
That foreboding would not go away. It was the change in him that made her fearful.
"By the saints!" Morna said when she returned.
"Ye look as if ye've tangled with the devil himself. And late it is. Ye should not be about after dark, girl." Then, with a knowing look, "Aye, would be my guess ye encountered young Eben McGinley."
"The boy is a fool," Alix blew back stray hair that had come loose from her braid.
She set down the basket with the candles Kaylen had sent back with her.
"Aye, he's had his eye on ye since the time he fell out of the apple tree in the orchard, mooning about after ye since. And not so much a boy now. " She gave her granddaughter a thoughtful look, as she prepared another batch of the oat cakes the Fraser men would need to take with them now that the evening meal was done.
"Is there anything ye should tell me?"
Alix almost burst out laughing at the question.
"I carry the dirk with me. No, there is nothing ye need to worry yerself over."
Morna continued kneading the dough for the oatcakes.
"Ye would do worse than Eben McGinley for a husband, ye ken? He could provide for ye and a family, better than what I provided these years past, sleeping in a storeroom behind the kitchen."
Alix's expression softened as she nipped a finger full of the dough and popped it into her mouth. It was sweet, with the taste of honey and spices.
"I'd rather sleep in a store-room, or the forest," she replied.
Morna eyed her with a worried frown. Strong-willed her granddaughter had always been, much like one who had borne her.
Alix unwrapped the candles Kaylen had sent back with her.
"Take them up to the Lady Brynna," Morna told her. "She prefers the fragrant ones, and so near her time with the bairn to come, they help ease the tiredness. And tis difficult now for her to take the steps down from the tower room. I'll be sending her supper up later."
As they had the past several days since De Brus arrived, the chieftain and Ruari were deep in conversation with their kinsmen, empty trenchers from the midday meal shoved aside, a large piece of parchment spread before them at the long table.
Others had now joined them. She recognized the chieftain of Clan Munro, and the war chief of Clan Grant, their expressions somber as they spoke in low tones with the Chieftain of Clan Fraser. She overheard a question asked by the war chief of Clan Grant.
"Ye say young Marshal leads the English forces?"
De Brus nodded. "Aye, tis said that he's been promised holdings in Scotland if he can take the king prisoner... "
"Or kill him," Ruari concluded what they all knew to be true from past encounters with the English--imprisonment in an English garrison or beheading, and the loss of the one who had unified the clans.
"Ye know Marshal?" the Munro directed the question at Ruari.
He exchanged a look with De Brus. "Aye, from Calais."
He thought of Blackwood, what remained of his arm, a tingling sensation that was always there, like a memory of that encounter.
"The king is wise to surround himself with an experienced commander."
"But he was defeated at Calais."
Ruari nodded. "Defeated, but not dead."
One of the women from the kitchen refilled their wine goblets. James waited until she was gone, then spoke.
"If the king is taken, the clans will split and fracture. The English will pick us off one by one. Our only hope is to unite the clans."
"What of Macdonald and Cameron?" Munro asked.
"Cameron has pledged his kinsmen to us," James replied.
The chieftain of Clan Munro made a sound of disgust. "And if the king makes a bargain with the English for Scottish lands?"
De Brus had listened intently, for much depended on these men and others who must join them, or all would be lost.
"There will be no bargain. I have heard it from a man I trust, a man of the clergy."
Ruari's head came up. "What price for the information, Robbie?" His expression was cold with old memories.
"I know yer thoughts on this," De Brus replied. "But the man is true in his word and his faith. He is also well accomplished with the blade. I would not hesitate to have him by my side in a fight."
Ruari made a crude sound at the back of his throat.
"Ye trust the man?"
De Brus nodded. "Aye, as I trust you."
"What of the French king?" Ruari asked.
De Brus shook his head. "The Pope has made it known that the French armies are to prepare for Jerusalem. Wars have been costly, as well we know, my friend. The barons will not support a second campaign in Scotland."
"Jerusalem." Ruari didn't bother to disguise his contempt. "That lost cause."
They had both been to the holy city in service to the king of France. It was a place that would never see peace.
"It matters not," De Brus replied. "They will support the Pope in this to gain favor."
"And promises of great wealth," Ruari spat out.
Robbie nodded. "Tis the way of kings."
"And the Church, and good men pay in blood." Ruari turned away from the table, like that of an angry beast, restless, stalking.
"We are alone in this then," James concluded.
De Brus grimly nodded. "Aye. Alone, but strong if we can gain the other clans, and it must be done quickly. I have already sent men to the south and west," he smiled at the irony, "Those who have a great deal to lose if Alexander falls."
James nodded. "We leave in two days then."
As they made their final plans, Ruari glimpsed Alix at the edge of the hall. Her vivid blue eyes were dark as she listened to their conversations, a frown at her lovely face as she went about some chore.
With the plans that were made, if they failed, this too, this land, everything his father had given his life for and those who came after since the first Fraser set foot on Scottish soil, might well be lost.
The coldness deep inside that he'd carried all the way from Calais, was like ice in his veins. If they failed, Scotland would be lost--every croft, every cottage, the stones beneath their feet, would all be trampled beneath the boot of the English. Men, women, and children would die if they failed and raw emotion, unexpected, unwanted, clawed its way past the icy wall he had built around himself since returning from Calais.
Everything would be swept away--all those at Lechlede, Brynna, his brother's children, friends, kinsmen and their families who had fought through the generations to carve out a place of their own. All would be lost, enslaved, or dead.
And her.
How much had she heard? He saw it in the expression at her face, and at her eyes as her gaze met his, that same expression glimpsed long ago when she had stood at the gates of Lechlede and watched him leave, there now as she turned and disappeared in the shadows at the bottom of the steps to the tower chambers.
"If we cannot hope for the French to join us, then we must do this alone." James concluded as he stood at the table and they made their pledges to one another and to Scotland.
Ruari nodded. "And protect the king so that we do not become slaves to King Henry."
When the others had gone, James sat across from him at the long table, a goblet of wine before him. He stared at his brother with mixed emotions. Ruari was an experienced warrior. He too had encountered the English where many among the other clans had not. He needed that experience by his side. But doubts plagued him.
"It might be wisest if you were to stay here," he suggested, only to meet that piercing blue gaze.
"You mean better if I stayed here, out of the way?"
" Wisest ," James repeated, slamming a hand down at the table. "I need someone who can protect those here. And there are none I trust as I trust my own blood."
Ruari winced at the anger he had allowed to chose his words.
"Then there are none you would trust as your own blood to guard your back? If we fail at Stirling, no one will be safe." He softened his words.
"There is none wiser, stronger, nor more loyal than Gabhran," Ruari added. "He would not let harm come to any within these walls. I will go," he said. "There is naught you can say about it."
Alix hesitated at the top of the steps, their conversation muted by the thick stone wall between the steps to the tower. Then the sound of heavy chairs scraping across the stone floor as others left the table. She listened, but could not hear what was said. There was no need of it. She took a deep breath and fixed a smile at her face as she went to the chieftain's chamber.
Lady Brynna sat back at the roll of fleece skins at her back that eased the knot of muscles, her feet propped at a stool before the hearth. She hiked up the hem of her gown and frowned.
"My ankles are twice their size. I swear this bairn has taken over my body."
"It will be here soon enough," Alix assured her. "Then you can hold the wee one in yer arms."
"My arms instead of my belly," Brynna responded. "This one is bigger than the others. There is no part of me that is my own." Still, she would not have traded her misshapen body for Alix's slender one.
"This one will be the last," she said somewhat sadly. "James has said he canna go through this again."
"Did he now?" Alix replied sarcastically. "What man do ye know has birthed a bairn? I would like to know."
Brynna laughed. "Tis true, they have no notion of it, only the getting of it." They both laughed.
Lady Brynna's expression slowly faded as Alix indicated for her to lean forward.
"James meets with the others?" Brynna asked.
Alix nodded as she began to rub her back as she had with each of the children she had born, just as old Maisel had taught her.
"Since midday with the Munro and the chieftain of Clan Grant."
Brynna nodded, staring down at her hands folded over the mound of the child inside her. She closed her eyes, remembering years before, summoning the strength that she knew her husband would need to see, even if it was a lie. She would not have him see her tears.
"The English ride on Stirling," Alix said gently.
Brynna took a deep breath."When do they leave?"
Alix rubbed her mistress' lower back, gently kneading the taut muscles.
"In two days." She started to say more then hesitated.
They had shared many conversations during her mistress' waiting time with this child, but she did not want to cause her mistress any distress when all her thoughts, all her energies must be for babe..
"You are quiet this eventide," Brynna commented. "What troubles you?"
"Tis nothing."
Brynna turned and looked at her. "You used to be a better liar when you were a child, swiping a tart from Morna's kitchen and saying it was another who had done it, sneaking off to watch the young men at their games when you were supposed to be feeding the animals with an excuse that no one believed." Her voice softened as she mimicked Alix's bold lie that day.
"One of the geese got loose. I had to go after it."
Alix fought back the smile at being caught in that one, and a few others. And that her mistress remembered it. When she looked up, Lady Brynna struggled with her own smile.
"I remember thinking that if I were to one day have a daughter, I would want her to be as bold and brave as you. And now I have one, although I vow she is a right handful. James is the only one who can handle her when she has her red up."
Alix smiled. She had seen that more than once. At four years of age, the chieftain's daughter was not only a pretty child but smart and clever when it came to getting what she wanted. Since his return she had been like Ruari's shadow, with an impish humor that reminded her of the way Ruari used to smile when he was at some prank or thought he had bested her at chess, and with that same willfulness.
All of the chieftain's children were different in their manner, but Lady Brynna had spoken more than once that this new bairn was most closely the same as her daughter.
"Another red head to be sure," she said not long ago, "the way it tumbles about inside me, eager to get out, as if there is something it is supposed to do."
But not these past days. As the child grew larger, it quieted as if saving itself for the birthing that was to come.
Alix looked up and found her mistress watching her with a soft expression.
"There is something more I think, something that troubles ye."
Alix frowned. "It must have been very difficult when the chieftain left for the borderlands."
The smile faded. Brynna eased back against the fleece roll at the chair.
"Aye," she said softly. "I had the children to keep my mind on other things. But there were times... " Her voice trailed off, and she seemed to have gone some other place, a place of memories.
"I didna know if he would return, ye ken? And yer thoughts come up with terrible things, especially in the middle of the night when it is quiet and the bairns are asleep. Ye think of the last moments between ye, things said, other things... " She looked over at Alix.
"Well, other things between a man and woman, and impossible to hold back the fear of what might happen... " She folded her hands across the mound of the child.
"I couldna let him see the fear before goin', ye ken? I knew that I had to be strong, for the children, for him." She smiled softly.
"There are things a man must do, his honor, the things that make him who he is. Protect those he is sworn to protect. I've learned it over the years we've been together. " She gathered her thoughts.
"Ye ken that I was married first to Hugh Fraser?"
Alix nodded. "I don't remember much of him. I was very young."
"Aye, well, he was not the man James is. As the chieftain's first born, much was expected of him, and much was given to him. He didna understand that a man's honor came from the things he must do, hard choices, the things he must fight for, as the old chieftain had. And as James has done in protecting Lechlede, the people, his kinsmen. But not Hugh Fraser. He was a man with no honor." There was a sadness in her voice.
Was she thinking of the child that was lost years before? Morna had spoken of it when Lady Brynna carried her first child after she wed the chieftain, the fear if something went wrong, if either she or the babe did not live, that he would blame himself. But young Alexander was born healthy and strong, and with Maisel's care Lady Brynna recovered quickly, soon enough to ride to the gathering with the chieftain that summer season. Two more bairns followed--another son, and Eleanor of the red hair.
Did she worry for the newest bairn that tired her easily now with circles under her eyes from lack of sleep? Or was it fear for the chieftain?
"Hugh Fraser had no pride in himself, or for others," Brynna said softly. "He thought every man must serve him, instead of him serving the men of his clan. He had no kindness in him--he had no honor and the choices he made cost the blood of others, and himself. A man canna live with himself if he has no honor. Without honor, he is lost."
She smiled again then.
"Even though I had been wed before, I was hardly more than a girl when I wed James. The only thing I knew of what passed between a man and woman, I had learned through pain and anger It was several months after we wed that we truly became husband and wife. Ye ken my meaning?"
Alix smiled, and nodded. "Aye. And for certain Eben McGinley would like to show me the way of it."
"But ye dinna love Eben McGinley."
Alix looked down at her folded hands. "He is a sweet boy... " she hesitated then shook her head.
"No, I dinna care for him that way."
She looked up and found Lady Brynna watching her.
"How do you stay so brave, after what happened the last time... ?" she asked. "How do you keep the fear from yer thoughts?"
Brynna smiled softly. "James needs me to be brave and I would not send him off with tears and wailing as others would. I will show him that I am brave. I need to be strong for him. He needs to believe that all will be well when he goes to do what he must do, and his family will be safe until he returns. I would have him believe it, for that is my honor. So I hide the fear, but it is always there.""
Alix looked up as the chieftain of clan Fraser pushed open the door and entered the chamber. His face was lined with fatigue and the weight of the responsibility he carried for so many.
"Here ye are, lass," he said to Lady Brynna. Weariness pulled at him. "Are you unwell?" he said going to his wife and kneeling beside her chair.
Brynna smiled and laid her hand against his cheek.
"No need for concern." Her expression was tender and filled with another expression at the same time, an expression with no need for words, something private that only they shared.
And it was there in his voice, the gentleness of it wrapped with some other emotion --that made something tighten deep inside Alix as she left the chamber and closed the door behind her. She wrapped her woolen shawl tight about her against a coldness of foreboding deep inside. And fear that she must hide.