Chapter Twelve
“I am longing for a good meal, Sebastien. Do you think she will poison it?” James asked with serious intents. “Should someone follow her?”
Sebastien turned and punched his friend once more on the arm. “You have brought it on yourself this time. What was in your mind to taunt her that way?”
James crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Taunt her? I was the model of decorum and courtly behavior. Did you not see how impressed she was with me?”
“Impressed, you say? Until she realized who you were, and then she seemed more afraid than accepting.” Sebastien laughed now.
The reputation that James carried was well-earned by his actions; they both knew that.
But, the rumors and stories and truths took on a life of their own as they spread from friend to foe.
If it had not worked to their advantage many times, they would all, even the Bruce himself, squash the hearsay and correct the misapprehensions.
Sebastien had witnessed one garrison of English soldiers surrender as one when they heard James shout out his battle cry.
True, it was a small garrison, but they did lay down their arms, avoiding bloodshed on either side.
“So you think then that I should have someone taste my food while I am here?”
Hugh thought his jest was a good one, for it was his turn now to laugh. “From the expression on Lady MacDougall’s face, I would say you are each in danger. I for one will sit somewhere far away from both of you this evening and not share in your plates for fear of my life.”
“Enough jesting. There is much we should discuss.”
Sebastien walked to the long table in the south end of the hall and invited the two to sit.
Once a serving maid brought tankards and ale and their thirsts were satisfied, Sebastien switched from the local Gaelic to French and reviewed with James the latest reports about the increase in attacks and ambushes to his men and those of the Bruce when transporting supplies over the western Highlands.
Each raid was not significant in itself, but there was an alarming pattern developing, and it seemed to spread out from Dunstaffnage itself.
When he noticed the sameness in the timing, execution and details of each one, he knew that these were not simply random acts.
Someone was directing them, and the attacks were too similar to be a coincidence and to not be related to the taking of Dunstaffnage.
“What do your spies tell you? Have the rest of the MacDougalls scattered or are they still lurking and plying mischief all around us?” James asked. Leaning in and looking from one to the other, he lowered his voice and asked, “And does your lady wife know about this?”
“That Eachann MacDougall is somewhere nearby? Nay, I have not told her that. She has been somewhat limited in her freedoms since I arrived here.”
James laughed again and smacked him soundly on the shoulder. “Sebastien, must you chain your women to keep them in hand?”
“Your obnoxious jesting aside, James, with all the disarray and change, I thought it best to keep her secluded and safe. She has been little out of the castle grounds and then only to the chapel. And always with an escort.”
“I suspect that Eachann and his men are behind the attacks.”
“I, too, share that suspicion and have assigned Munro to the task. Munro can run any man to ground.”
“In the meantime, we will target several places where the Comyns still have friends and uproot them from their keeps.” James took out a small parchment from inside his tunic and spread it on the table before them.
Pointing to three locations, James named them.
“Invercreran. Here in Glen Gour on Ardgour. And here, to the south of Loch Awe.”
Sebastien considered the locations, each one not far from MacDougall lands.
Two could be reached by water, the other was in a valley to the northeast and would involve another journey much like the one through the Brander Pass.
Once these places were cleared of enemies, the whole of southwestern Scotland would belong to the Bruce.
“In which order will we take them?” Hugh asked. “Or do we split our forces and attack at the same time?”
“Robert wants us to each take one of these—” James pointed to the last two “—and together take Invercreran.”
“When?” Sebastien asked. He still had much to do here to get Dunstaffnage to the way it should be. And, now that things appeared to be more promising with Lara, he did not wish to be away for long.
“By the first week in October, for Robert plans to pursue the Earl of Ross then.”
“No more truces?” Sebastien knew that the Bruce had signed a truce with both Lorne in the west and Ross in the north.
One had been broken and the other had expired, and Robert was now anxious to gather them all under his control.
Even worse, the Earl of Ross had captured Robert’s wife, daughter, sister and one of his most ardent supporters, the Countess of Buchan, all of whom he’d turned over to the English.
James’s smile was one of grim determination. “No truces. He submits or dies.”
Sebastien noticed the servants waiting near and realized they were ready to prepare the table for supper. Standing, he invited James and Hugh to join him in the yard to meet with Etienne for a brief discussion of the supplies and men needed for these actions.
“I should tell Lara that we are done here,” Sebastien said.
The other two looked at him and then each other, and James wiggled his eyebrows. “Ah, the life of a married man! For a warrior who was so dedicated to life on a horse, I am stunned that you are settling in so well here.”
“We practically ordered her away. It is simple courtesy to let her know that our discussion has ceased.”
“So it is,” James acknowledged, as he folded the map and tucked it safely away. “Hugh and I can speak with your steward, if you’d like?”
“Enough! I will tell Lara and meet you near the barracks. Go now, before I demonstrate to everyone watching that the Black Douglas has no special powers.”
James leaned his head back and laughed at the threat. “Very well, my lord. Seek you your wife and we will await your counsel in the yard.” He bowed and turned and, with Hugh at his side, walked out through the hall to the yard.
Actually, if he were telling the truth, James did have special powers.
Otherwise, he could not have accomplished as much as he had at such a young age.
Just over a score of years had he, and yet the whole of Scotland and a good part of England knew of him.
Thankful that he had never faced James on the field, Sebastien did understand how the man upset most people upon first meeting.
The king’s business awaited him, so Sebastien headed to the corridor and stairs that led to the kitchens below to find Lara.
He wasn’t certain if giving her more time before supper was a good thing, but knew it was necessary.
As he stepped through the doorway, Lara came running up the stairs.
He moved back to make room on the landing.
“Lara, we are not done with our discussions and will return for the meal in a short time.”
“As you wish,” she replied. She tilted her head down and Sebastien could not see her eyes. Then he noticed that she was breathing heavily and sweat beaded on her lip.
“Are you well?” He reached out his hand to lift her chin. Her face was a bit pale and her gaze wary.
“I must still be overwhelmed from this morn. The heat of the kitchens bothered me and I fear that running up the steps has left me breathless.”
The lie did not quite reach her eyes. Sebastien was not certain why she was lying or about what, but he read the lie as easily as he read a battle formation.
“Have a care, lady. Come into the hall where it is cooler and mayhap guide the servants in preparing for the meal.”
She accepted his hand without hesitation and Sebastien escorted her back into the hall.
Once in the cooler room, she took a deep breath and released it.
Granted, the heat from the kitchens, when the meals for dozens of people were being cooked, could be significant.
The blush in her cheeks returned and he released her. James and Hugh were waiting for him.
He would think on this puzzle later.
She leaned forward once more and tried to peek around Sebastien at James Douglas.
Her husband had suggested that he sit between them so that James’s presence did not terrorize her.
And rightly so! The Black Douglas was the scourge of those who opposed Robert the Bruce.
A strange turn of events since the Bruce had, when fighting on the English side, captured Castle Douglas and turned him and his mother and sisters over to Edward Longshanks.
Lara peeked again. She could not believe that this young man was one of the Bruce’s elite fighters. He was, she thought, at least five years younger than Sebastien. Lara glanced at her husband and found him watching her.
“Is he really the Black Douglas?” she whispered so the man in question would not hear her. “He looks so young.”
“I assure you, my lady, that I have indeed attained the age of twenty and two years,” he said in a voice that was both soft and cultured.
Lara gasped. He’d heard her. She sat back in the chair so he could not see past Sebastien. Then, damn him, Sebastien leaned back and exposed her to James’s gleeful gaze.
“I do prefer just my name over the one that the English use.”
The men all laughed at this. Sebastien joined them and then turned to her. “He is truly the Black Douglas, called that for many reasons.” Sebastien lifted his goblet in a salute to the man on his left and called out, “A Douglas! A Douglas!”