Rivals for the Crown (32 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Givens

Tags: #Outlaws, #Man-Woman Relationships, #England, #Historical, #Knights and Knighthood - England, #Scotland, #General, #Romance, #Scotland - History - 1057-1603, #Historical Fiction, #Great Britain - History - 13th Century, #Fiction, #Love Stories

BOOK: Rivals for the Crown
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Liam met her gaze. "He is. But he's been irritating the English soldiers occasionally. What good would it have done ye to ken it, love? It would only have worried ye, and where else are we to go? D'ye wish to go back to Stirling?"

"No."

"Nor do I. It'll pass." He looked at the boys. "I told ye all to stop yer harassing of the Englishmen. It led to this. Yer brother is dead! Is that not enough?"

"I'll avenge him! I'll kill the whole of the English army!"

Liam grabbed his arm. "Ye'll do nothing of the sort. Ye'll keep yer head down and ye'll not bring them here."

"Who's to say they're not coming for us now?" one growled.

"We'll set sentries to watch for that. But this is over. Ye willna do it again!" Liam's voice was quiet but forceful. "It's not a game. People are dying."

"Scots are dying," the brother said.

"Aye! And I'll not have ye bringing the English here after ye."

"And if they come, sir, will ye give me up?"

Liam sighed. "If they come here, I'll help ye kill every last one of the bastards. But dinna go looking for them, lads. It leads to this. And if they follow ye home and touch one hair on my family's heads, I'll kill ye all myself! No more!"

"It's over thirty Scots that have been killed in Irvine area, I've been told," the brother said. "Thirty, sir, and now him. And it's not all young lads causing trouble. It's everyone. What about Sir Malcolm Wallace, dead these two months, slain by Sir Fenwick, the English bastard, and nothing done in answer? And now my brother's dead and ye tell us to do nothing. Our own are being killed, and ye tell us to simply watch it?"

"Just be patient, wait until June, when the new king is chosen."

"And if not then? What if it takes even longer?"

"Then we'll all be on the brink of rebellion. Look, lads, I ken how angry ye are, how much ye want to avenge the killings. But I'm telling ye, put yer heads down and stay away from the English and we'll get through this."

Their sullen faces told Nell what they were thinking.

Liam ran a hand through his hair, the coppeiy strands catching the candlelight. Nell felt her throat tighten. She knew what it was costing him, this fiery man of hers, to tell these lads to be passive. They'd talked of it enough, the anger that was building in him, in all of them, as the soldiers garrisoned in Irvine grew ever more bold.

At first it had been simple things—a cask of wine confiscated from a landowner, a horse taken from a field. An innkeeper who had gone without pay in Irvine for all the meals the soldiers had eaten there. And then the beatings and the floggings started. And more. It was only a few of the English soldiers who were wayward, but they'd gone unpunished, and as the months passed the abuses had intensified, and so had the local people's resentment. And then there had been the rape of a young wife left alone in her home. Then the murder of an English soldier. And the reprisals from the English, the search for the soldier's killer, who, not surprisingly, had been the woman's husband. And who had left in the night for the wilds of Lennox, abandoning his farm and livestock. And now this.

"A'right," Liam said. "We'll bury him, aye? And then...lads, let's have Christmas in peace. And Epiphany as well. Three weeks is all I'm asking. And then we'll talk with
everyone
else. But no more of having a bunch of ye with a bellyful of whisky going after armed soldiers. No more."

"What will we do, sir?"

"We'll be effective. If ye want to make them suffer, there are ways."

She saw the light in their eyes, saw the glimmer of respect for Liam there, and her heart leapt with fear. She looked from them to her husband, hoping to see in his eyes that he was dissembling. But all she saw there was his own desire for revenge. And she began to pray.

They had a week of quiet, of Rory stopping by to tell them all was well, lingering to laugh with her girls, the cousins' merry voices cheering her. And then, one wild and windy evening, there was a pounding on the door. She rose, letting the mending she'd been holding slip from her hand. Liam moved to answer the pounding on the door.

"What is it?" Meg asked. "Is it the soldiers come for us?"

"Meg, Elissa, go in the kitchen," Nell said softly, surprised to hear how calm her voice was. "If I scream at ye, go out the side door." When they did not move, she raised her voice to a harsh whisper. "Do it!"

They scrambled to obey her. She watched them go, then went to join Liam, expecting to see English soldiers. But it was Ranald Crawford who stood there, his face
grey
. Liam held the lantern high, and by its light Nell could see that Ranald was not alone. A woman stood at his side. She moved forward, revealing herself to be Ranald's sister, Liam's aunt, Margaret Wallace. And behind her were two hooded figures—men, she assumed, by their size.

"Just the night, Liam," Ranald said. "Or two. Not more. I swear I'll find a place for them soon."

"Aye, Ranald," Liam said. "Come in, come in."

"Margaret, come in!" Nell cried.

Margaret hurried into the house, followed by the men. One threw back his hood and embraced her.

"It's me, Nell," Rory said.

"Rory!" Nell cried. "What are ye doing here? What?..."

Ranald interrupted her. "You know Margaret, of course. And my nephew, her son, William?"

"Aye, of course. But I thought ye were at Kilspindle, by Dundee," Nell said to Margaret.

"We were," Margaret said breathlessly. "We had to leave."

William pulled his cloak off, his rugged face weary, but his voice calm. "I've been outlawed. I killed a constable's son in Dundee, and they're looking for me."

"Outlawed!" Nell put a hand to her throat. "But why?"

"I killed a man. We got out of Dundee, but ye know they'll come looking for me in Ayrshire soon."

"Tell us what happened," Liam said, leading the way. The story came out over the meal Nell and her girls hastily prepared. William had been attending the church school in Dundee, where his mother, and younger brother John lived with their uncle. Dundee Castle had been handed into the care of an English baron, Brian Fitz Alan, whose constable was a man named Selby. Selby's twenty-year-old

son and his friends had roamed Dundee for months, causing trouble, gradually becoming more bold.

"They accosted William," Margaret Wallace said.

"I let my temper go," William said. "They wanted my dirk, and they wouldna stop coming after me. They were armed, and they would not stop. We struggled for it. And I killed him. Selby's son"

"We left Dundee at once," Margaret said, "and made our way to you. I did not know where else to go. I knew Ranald would take us in, but he's the sheriff, and we put him at risk by being there."

"My house will be the first place they search," Ranald said. "Which is why we've come. I need a place to put them until I can make other arrangements, Liam."

"Of course they can stay here," Liam said, looking at Nell for agreement.

She nodded, ignoring the knotting of her stomach. "Of course. But how did Rory come to be with ye?"

"I was in Ayr," Rory said, "getting the news, when the word came that William had been outlawed. The city's full of English soldiers, and no one would even notice me, so I went looking for William for Sir Ranald instead of him."

"And found my sister and nephew for me," Ranald said. "I must get back to Ayr. You know they will come looking for me, hoping to find William. I had hoped one of my nephews could aid another and am pleased that you will."

"Aye," Liam said. "What else would we do?"

"I'm grateful," William said. "It's not everyone who would shelter me."

"Wait 'til ye hear the whole of the story," Rory said, his eyes shining. "After Selby's son was killed, his friends chased William through the town. He went to his uncle's town house, and the housekeeper took him in and gave him one of her own gowns and wimple."

"Russet it was," William said, grinning. "Suited me."

"She set him to spinning," Rory continued. "And then the English came, to search the house."

"I kept my head down and tried to look small," William added.

"And they never realized the big lass in the corner was him." Rory laughed, joined by the others.

Nell smiled tightly, glad that William had escaped, but filled with dread as she looked at her daughters, at her husband, seeing the light in his eyes. It was here, the shadow of the violence that she feared, that she'd sensed was drawing closer. Brought here, to her house, by Liam's earnest and handsome cousin, a young man named Wallace. She would remember the moment all of her days. Liam reached for her hand and held it tightly.

Nothing happened for a month.

Meg crowed with delight. "I won, I won!"

Rory shook his head, laughing. "It's only that we let ye win, ye twit."

"How can ye let someone win at dice?" she demanded.

Nell laughed and exchanged a look with Liam. "Show her, love."

Liam rose from the chair in which he'd been sitting and joined Rory and the others. Rory and William had brought eight of their companions this time, mostly young men William had known in his childhood, many his cousins. It had been a merry evening.

Through the last of December, and into January, Rory and William had spent a great deal of time here, talking with Nell and Liam, playing games with the girls, or just eating. Rory told Nell that there was always better food in her kitchen than in Jocelyn's, and Nell said that he and William would one day eat them completely out of house and home, but that she was glad they were here.

William loved to laugh, and tease, although since his father's death his mood was seldom jovial. In his darker moments he talked of killing Fenwick, the English knight who had killed Malcolm Wallace on Loudon Hill. In his lighter moments, he tricked Meg with the weighted dice he'd brought back from a trip to Glasgow.

"Here," Liam said, "look, Meggie. The dice are weighted on one side, so they fall a certain way. That way the player who kens what they are can predict the number shown. And win."

"Ooh!" Meg gave William a glare, and everyone laughed.

"What's that?" Rory said.

"Dice,
Rory
," Meg said.

"No. Listen! I hear something."

They were all still for a moment, but the night was quiet. Liam went to the door and stood on the step, listening. Rory stood behind him. An owl screeched. Then another. And a third, and the hair on the back of Rory's neck stood up. He and Liam exchanged a look.

"Nell," Liam whispered. "Get my sword."

Nell handed Liam the sword.

One of Liam's stable lads came running from the barn, his arms flailing.

"Sir! Sir! There are soldiers outside the gate! With torches!"

"How many?" Liam asked.

"About twenty, sir. What shall we do?"

"Tell the lads to get weapons if they have them, pitchforks or scythes if they dinna. Get the horses out of the barn and yerselves as well."

Behind Rory, William, whispered, "Are they coming for me?"

"Dinna ken yet," Liam whispered. "Nell, get the girls out the back of the house, but not out of the gate. They may have put men out there as well."

Rory turned to the lads with them, putting his finger to his lips. "Liam, they willna ken we're here. We can take our lot out the back and circle round."

"Not yet," Liam said. "Wait. Let's see what they'll do. Maybe they're just here for a visit, aye?"

"Most likely they heard about Nell's food."

"Rory, let's go," William said.

"Ye take them, William," Rory said. "I'll stand with Liam. If there're two men here, maybe they'll back down."

"Twenty soldiers? They're coming to burn Liam out. We'll go over the wall."

Rory nodded, turning to watch as Nell and the girls hurried out the back door, with William and the lads behind them. He heard the click of the door.

Then silence.

And then the night erupted. The gate was battered down, and soldiers, carrying torches, streamed into the yard. They whirled their horses and shouted into the air. One howled like a wolf.

Rory drew his sword. Liam did the same. Liam pulled the door shut behind them. The stable lads came running from the barn with knives and pitchforks and stood uncertainly on the side of the yard.

The soldiers were still riding in circles, but slower now. One stopped in front of the door, holding his torch high, lighting the space between them and his own face. Rory sucked in his breath. It was Fenwick, the knight who had killed William's father.

"Crawford! We hear you have been harboring William Wallace," he said to Liam, his voice thick with drink. "He's outlawed."

Liam nodded slowly. Rory counted eighteen men on horseback. And on their side, Liam, William, their eight companions. Three young stable lads. And himself. But green lads were no match for trained soldiers, which meant the odds were not in their
favour
.

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