Page 96 of Captured by a Laird
CHAPTER 39
D’Orsey was waiting in the meadow by the river with twenty mounted warriors on either side of him and as many as five hundred men blanketing the hillside behind. As David rode closer, he was glad to see that only a score of the men with D’Orsey’s were members of his elite French guard. The rest were Scots.
David rode into the meadow with only a dozen men, including Brian and Robbie. Since D’Arcy hadn’t given him time to gather a large force himself, his best course was to bring so few as to show a reckless fearlessness and brazen disrespect.
Naturally, he’d had men scour the area earlier for traps. Even now his lookouts were hiding in the lone oak across the river and on the surrounding hills. Living next to their powerful English neighbor, Scots learned long ago to be both bold and devious fighters.
“I don’t see the Blackadders,” Brian said in a low voice. “I expect they’re at the back.”
The Blackadders would stab a man from behind, but they were never the first to run into battle.
David halted his horse in front of D’Orsey. Everything about the Frenchman offended him, from the pristine white tunic he wore over his chain mail to the gleaming silver inlay on his saddle. What had his blood boiling, though, was the horse D’Orsey was riding.
“Bonjour, Laird Wedderburn,” D’Orsey said, inclining his head in greeting.
“You insult me by riding my father’s horse,” David said. “I’ve no patience for false courtesy.”
“Then let us come straight to the matter at hand,” D’Orsey said with a tight smile.
“What matter is that?”
“You know very well,” D’Orsey snapped, and David was pleased he had pricked the Frenchman’s cool demeanor. “You’re participating in the siege of Langton Tower.”
“As ye can see,” David said, spreading his arms, “I’m here, not at Langton.”
A few suppressed chuckles came from the Scots behind D’Orsey. David knew this valley and was well aware that his voice would carry up the hillside.
“I’m told you hold sway with men of these parts,” D’Orsey said. “From what I hear, Cochburn would not have besieged Langton without your tacit approval.”
“Border men are free to make their own choices,” David said, letting his gaze travel over the Scottish warriors behind D’Orsey.
“In fact,” D’Orsey said, “it’s said that no one crosses through these parts without your leave.”
“And yet, you’re here.”
Snorts of laughter erupted from the Scots.
“I am the royally appointed Warden of the East Marches,” D’Orsey said through tight lips. “It is my duty to keep order here.”
“We don’t need a foreigner to keep order,” David said, letting his anger show this time. “I’d advise ye to follow Albany back to France and tend to your own lands. Leave the tending of Scottish lands to Scots.”
“Damn your insolence,” D’Orsey said. “In the name of the king, I command you to remove your men from the siege at Langton Castle at once.”
David was on the verge of commanding D’Orsey to remove his head from his arse when his brother coughed to catch his attention.
“Ask him to return my mother,” Robbie said in a low voice.
“I’m willing to discuss the fate of Langton Castle,” David said, “afterye release my father’s widow, Lady Isabella.”
“Ah, that lady is a treasure,” D’Orsey said. “I assure you that she receives every courtesy at Dunbar Castle.”
“The only courtesy she wishes from you is to be returned to her family,” David said.
“Such a refined lady is surely better off in my care than in the care of a man known asthe Beast.”
“She is an ill and grieving widow,” David said, letting his voice carry to the men gathered on the hillside behind D’Orsey. “My father is dead. What purpose can it serve to hold her hostage now?”
“As the widow of a traitor,” D’Orsey said, “she serves as a warning to all Scots that the families of traitors will pay a price for their treachery.”
