Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
STIRLING CASTLE
B eyond the private chamber was the Chapel Royal, a massive two story structure at the edge of the inner bailey. A series of low buildings to one side connected to the royal gardens. To the other side were the royal apartments and the great hall.
"The low buildings are for the royal guard."
"How many?" Ruari asked.
"As many as forty when the king is in residence."
Ruari made a sound of disgust.
"Forty. May as well be a handful to stand against the numbers of Marshal's army we saw below."
"No one has ever taken Stirling," Robbie reminded him.
"Marshal did not bring siege engines to talk over ale or wine. He means to bring King Alexander to heel if necessary. Where would the king be this time of the evening?"
"At the great hall, for evening meal."
Ruari nodded and they followed DeBrus out of the chapel royal and across the inner bailey.
The hall was a long narrow building built of stone and wood, with high window openings. They passed through the kitchens and at least a score of women looked up, startled, where they prepared food that were to be served. Robbie greeted them.
"Greetings, Agnes," he made a mock bow before one of the women, obviously acquainted with her.
"My friends and I are joining the king. I apologize that we were delayed."
He waved Ruari and the rest of their men past the startled women. But before following them, he grabbed a pastry stuffed with meat and popped it in his mouth.
"Ye know the woman?" Ruari asked as he rejoined them.
"Agnes," Robbie explained. "I was but fourteen years and she was... somewhat younger then, passably more slender, and... very willing."
As they moved down the passage from the kitchens, sounds came from the great hall, conversation, the words animated and urgent. A guard at the entrance of the hall stopped them.
"I know the man," Robbie whispered low. "He serves the Campbell." He started to move ahead, into what might very well be an armed confrontation.
Campbell, Ruari thought, with no small amount of anger. That explained the refusal of the chieftain of Clan Campbell to join them. He had already sent one of his kinsmen to Stirling for his own purposes.
When had he arrived? And what was the message he carried for the young king?
Ruari stopped DeBrus with a hand at his arm. "I will lead my own men."
He saw the look Robbie angled at the metal that encased his lower arm.
"Are you certain?"
"Yer my friend, Robbie, but stand aside."
Ruari pushed past him and confronted the guard, his right hand resting over the handle of his short blade, the longer blade in the leather sheath at his back. From the great hall, they heard raised voices, the conversation heated--at least one side of it--and unmistakably that of the Campbell's brother, making an argument for capitulation.
While the young king sat at the head of the long table with his counselors and advisors around him, along with the queen mother, the expression at his face was guarded and uncertain.
"I would not want to openly challenge Marshal," he replied. "We have not men enough to defend the castle... "
"I'm assured that will not be necessary if you will but listen to Marshal's demands," Campbell replied, pressing the argument.
Demands! Ruari stepped into the hall, one of the royal guards immediately blocking him. It was enough to stop all conversation and draw the full royal attention on him.
"Good eventide," he greeted the young king with a pleasant expression that disguised his narrowed gaze that swept the hall and all those present.
"Ruari Fraser of Clan Fraser," he said by way of greeting, then stepping past the guard and loud enough so that all within the great hall would hear. And then with a look directly at Campbell, remembering Gabhran's words about the man, decided on a convenient lie and turned to King Alexander.
"Thank you, for your invitation, your Highness. We came as soon as we received it."
Several stares turned in their direction, not the least was the Campbell. The king rose from his chair.
"Fraser... !"
Ruari crossed the great hall in long strides, DeBrus beside him. Four of his men followed, while the others remained at the entrance if a quick departure was needed.
The affectations of royal court were not unknown to him. He had attended court with his cousin while in France, and then at the royal court at Edinburgh after the death of King William, Alexander's father, for the pledges of the clans.
Memories were long, and it was not lost on him that Alexander remembered too well that James had not pledged his loyalty to the king, but to Scotland.
They had left Edinburgh afterward, and the years between had been uneasy ones with the young king's close ties to England through his marriage to the young queen consort Joan, arranged by Henry of England, the very same whose army now occupied the land below the castle main.
To one side of the king sat the young queen, Joan. At his other side sat the Queen mother, Juliana Ermengarde de Beaumont, whose own ties with France had helped secure the young king's father, William, from imprisonment in England and his return to Scotland decades earlier. And she was cousin to the king of France.
Ruari had met her at court in France when she had returned upon the death of her brother. He did not bow when he reached the king's table, but inclined his head, glancing in her direction to determine her reaction, and if she remembered that time in France or chose now to forget it.
She hid a surprised smile behind her hand, the expression in her eyes one of open curiosity and amusement that told him she remembered that encounter very well.
He and the young king were of near the same age, Juliana was at least a score of years older, but those years had not dimmed her beauty, nor her ability to navigate difficult situations as she had when William was alive.
They had a unique friendship in France--the young outlawed Scot warrior and the older noblewoman who was considered a bit of an outlaw herself because of her marriage to the Scottish king. That shared reputation bonded them at the French court where he found William's widowed queen to be intelligent with a braw sense of humor. And she had found him... entertaining for a time might best describe their relationship.
It had been a chance encounter of two people, bound to Scotland, but forced to navigate their way through international intrigues--and a passionate affair where neither of them had any illusion that it would ever be more. They had parted four years earlier when he had left with others for Spain, and Juliana had returned to Scotland. That bond, he hoped, might now help their cause.
Campbell came out of his chair. "By God, Fraser, you are too bold! How the devil did you get in here?"
Ruari angled him a look that few had seen off the battlefield, his smile dangerous like winter in the blood.
"There are ways."
"Seize him! The man is an outlaw!" Campbell shouted for the guards. But Juliana raised her hand and stayed that order.
"Since when does the king allow a mere chieftain's brother to give orders to the king's men?"
Alexander rose then. "Enough! I will not have blood spilled within these walls!"
He and the king were of an even height, but it was no secret that Alexander, unlike his father before him, had never been tried on the field of battle. He had ascended to the Scottish throne at a very young age and his world became that of tutors, scholars, and advisors, not the practice yard or a bloodied battleground.
Four years before at the borderlands, he had entrusted the defense of his kingdom to the clans led by James and Clan Fraser. They had pushed the English back but at great cost, most of it to his clan. The simple truth was that the king owed the security of his throne to the clans, and Clan Fraser in particular.
He glimpsed the conflict of emotions on the king's face, to welcome a man he had condemned as an outlaw, and undoubtedly a man he thought dead until the moment he walked into the hall.
That was the trouble with ghosts, Ruari thought, they were forever popping up when you least expected them.
Alexander glanced at the metal arm and hand.
"We were given to understand that you were dead. It seems you are not."
A bemused smile played at one corner of his mouth.
"Not yet."
The king nodded, and with a brief glance over at the queen mother chose his words carefully.
"Do you come on behalf of Clan Fraser?"
Ruari nodded. "Aye, on matters of grave importance to Scotland."
"The Fraser has ever proven himself and his clan loyal to Scotland, and this throne... ," Alexander finally spoke, the words hanging in the air, all present with long memories that James had once pledged his loyalty to Scotland.
"Then it would injudicious not to know the message your chieftain sends."
Injudicious , with Marshal and the English army at his doorstep. And Robbie's presence had no doubt tipped the scales, for the DeBrus family had holdings in both Scotland and France--powerful, wealthy holdings.
Ruari saw the thoughtful expression at the queen mother's face.
"You have traveled far," she commented with a look at their mud-stained boots and tunics.
"You must join us for the evening meal."
He was aware it was a direct affront to Campbell. But in truth he had no patience or time for such civilities. His eyes narrowed on the young king.
"We must speak of important matters."
Even now James and the clans moved toward Stirling, and confrontation. He and his men, along the DeBrus had ridden hard, but at best they were no more than two days ahead of James' and the other clans.
"Surely there is no harm in joining your table after such a long ride," DeBrus interjected.
Ruari gave him a sharp look. His friend's expression never changed, but there was a look behind his eyes that spoke of some game he played.
Everyone in the hall seemed to breathe more easily at DeBrus' easy manner, except perhaps for Campbell who glared at them both but wisely chose to hold his tongue.
"Very good," the young king replied, with a nod to one of his people who immediately gave orders for the evening meal to be served.
"You will sit beside me," Juliana gestured to the high-backed chair that Campbell had occupied.
The pieces moved on the chess board, small moves but a movement none-the-less as DeBrus was offered a chair across from the king, while Campbell was left to a place at the far end of the great table--below the salt.
Ruari never had any tolerance for such affectations, but this was a far different matter, and far more at stake than merely the evening's seating arrangement for the serving of food.
Juliana glanced down at his metal hand as he took the chair beside her.
"You have recovered from your wounds?"
He nodded. "With great care at Lechlede."
"And now you risk much in coming here," Juliana commented as Ruari inclined his head toward her.
"When you had vowed you would not return to Scotland. We make our plans and God laughs?" she added.
"It is always so on the field of battle, madam. I have heard him laugh often."
She laughed then too, a sound he remembered with fondness from their days together.
"So it is, and now the evening will be far more... interesting."
"I thought you had perhaps forgotten the months at the Comte de Anjou's chateau."
Her eyes darkened as she leaned toward him.
"I have no illusions of love, Ruari Fraser, but you reminded me then that I was not just a queen but also a woman, and I'll not forget it." Her expression held an open question.
"And in the years that have passed have you forgotten me?"
"I have not. Your... friendship saved me an unfortunate fate while in France."
"And now? Is there a young lady who holds your attention for longer than a fortnight?"
A fortnight... ? A lifetime in the years from then until now. He tried to push the image of Alix back where he kept it just for himself but she was there in his thoughts, his imagination, and his memories -- a fierce, brave, passionate memory. And so he circled round the truth.
"There are none that can compare to what we have shared."
Juliana softly laughed.
"Your brother is called the Fox, but I think there is another cunning animal in the lair of Clan Fraser. You chose your words carefully, and by that I can only assume that the young lady whoever she is, means a great deal to you."
"You have always seen the truth of things," he remembered those weeks together with no illusion that it had been anything more than a passing liaison--an older noblewoman and a dalliance with a young warrior with a price on his head. Yet, in the ending of the affair they had found a bond of friendship.
"And the truth now?" she asked as the first trenchers of food were brought by several servants.
Another chess piece moved forward in the dangerous game they played.
"There is grave danger, milady," he gave her a measured look. "Unless cooler heads prevail, and much to be lost by those who will stand against aggression."
She smiled that secretive smile he remembered so well.
"Then, Ruari Fraser, my fox, cooler heads must prevail."
A trencher was set before him, but he had no appetite. Still he knew only too well that to refuse the king's hospitality would be seen as an affront when he needed the king to turn from Campbell's words of capitulation.
"Do you hold yourself above your king?" Campbell demanded, his expression taught.
"Or perhaps a grudge? Or a hunger for revenge?"
Ruari angled him a long look. It would be easy enough to seek revenge against the one who had outlawed him, but he wanted more. He chose his words carefully but with undeniable meaning.
"There is no grudge for one whose loyalty is to Scotland, and not personal gain."
Beside him, he was aware that Juliana sat back in her chair with a bemused expression for it was no secret that Campbell enjoyed the benefit of lands in both Scotland and England, and favor of the English king.
Was he also a pawn for King Henry's ambitions to bring Scotland back under English rule?
It was most interesting that he had arrived before any of the other clans at Stirling, and that his brother chose to remain at Campbell stronghold.
"Bring wine," Alexander commanded. "To ease the evening meal."
Wine was poured and the young king took the first sip. Others about the long table followed. Ruari glanced across the table at his friend. It was obvious Robbie had the same doubts.
"You do not drink your wine," Juliana commented with that same bemused expression as she set her goblet back at the table.
"It is an excellent vintage."
Still he did not drink, nor eat. She reached for his goblet.
"I remember the reckless Scottish warrior," she said. "He would not have hesitated with either drink or food so that he might have strength for other ... endeavors. You have grown cautious."
"I have learned that it is necessary to be cautious when the loyalties of those at the table are unknown."
She took a long sip from his goblet, set it back at the table, and smiled when she did not faint, or fall into fits from some poison that might have been added to his drink from an unseen hand.
"I prefer reckless ." She skewered a piece of meat from the trencher before him and nibbled at it, proving that it too did not contain some deadly potion.
A half smile curved his mouth. "You always were the reckless one, keeping company with an outlaw."
She took another bite. "It is far more exciting."
"Aye," Ruari agreed, taking the claymore from the leather sheath at his back and laid it at the table, a gesture that did not go unnoticed.
Across from them, DeBrus slowly exhaled and then eased back in his chair. It was going to be a long night.
The trenchers had been cleared, more wine brought as the hours grew long. The young queen had long since retired, while beyond the walls of Stirling, on those grassy slopes below the castle, the waiting fires of the English glowed.
"Cautious?" Juliana speculated. "Or merely waiting out your prey?"
Ruari took her hand, a hand that he remembered intimately well.
"What do you mean?"
She smiled. "The fox knows my meaning."
And it seemed certain that she knew as well.
She smiled and sighed softly "If I were but twenty years younger... " she grew thoughtful.
"Your young lady," she continued, speculating, "she is beautiful? And spirited?"
Ruari smiled for the first time. "She is beautiful, and very spirited." And more that he would not share with another.
Juliana nodded. "You must take great care here. My sense of it is that Campbell has much to gain if Alexander bends the knee to the English king."
"Then that must not happen."
"I had feared that outcome," she confided. "Alexander is young and infatuated with his wife. I fear he might be easily swayed in things that he does not yet fully understand and share the fate of my dear late husband, and end up in an English prison."
Ruari nodded. "Leading men is more than putting mere words to it, or oaths of loyalty." He knew that well enough from more than ten years past, and James knew it from a lifetime of fighting to protect Clan Fraser.
She nodded. "As we both understand." She rose from her chair.
"I think there are things you would speak of with the king, if there were not other ears present?"
Perceptive, shrewd. Always.
"Short of pitching those ears over the wall?" Ruari suggested.
She smiled secretively at him, then turned back to the table.
"Will you walk with me, Archibald?" she asked the Campbell's brother.
"The night is long," she continued with a glance under her lashes at Ruari. "And there is much danger about." She glanced about the long shadows at the hall.
"I would have your protection and no other to escort me safely to my chambers."
Campbell reluctantly rose from his chair, his expression taut. It was an invitation that could not be refused.
"I shall return," he announced. And then he joined the queen, bowing before her as two servants led them from the hall with candles held high.
"My father valued my mother's wise counsel," Alexander spoke as they departed.
"And her resourcefulness. She is the one who negotiated his freedom when he was imprisoned in England. And she is not afraid of shadows, not even with the English encamped in the fields below." He sat back at the high-backed chair.
"And now you choose to speak with Campbell away. He is not a man you trust?"
"His interests are well known. Those that he serves first, for himself and Clan Campbell," DeBrus replied.
Ruari nodded. "He would advise you to capitulate to the English demands."
"They have made no demands."
"They will," DeBrus replied. "They have not ridden this long way to simply camp out in the Scottish countryside and then return home.
Alexander was thoughtful. "Why should I trust the words of an outlaw over a loyal clansman?"
Ruari stood, his hand braced at the table.
"Campbell is loyal only to himself. These days past the chieftain of Clan Campbell was asked to join with the other clans... and refused."
"The other clans?" Alexander glanced from Ruari to DeBrus.
Ruari nodded. "As we speak, your Scots, " he emphasized the word 'your '. "have joined and are near Stirling."
"The Fraser?"
"The chieftain of Clan Fraser leads them."
Another chess piece moved into place, a gambit with knights all about.
"The captain of my guard tells me that more than a thousand English soldiers are encamped below the walls of the castle, and Marshal has sent no word or demands."
"A thousand?" Ruari replied. "So few."
His expression hardened. It was a game of politics that James loathed and had always refused to play, like pieces spread out across that chessboard. Now it was a game of words
"Then, it would be wise for Marshal to accept your invitation to meet."