Page 116 of Bound By Honor
Angus and John shook each man’s hand. To the dark-haired Sir Neil Campbell, Angus said. “Aye, we know you, Cousin.” Turning to the king, Angus said, “As he may have told you, his father and my grandfather were one and the same man, a noble lord until a wretched Comyn’s arrow slayed him.”
The men with Rob appeared as weary from their battles and travels as did the king. Sir Gilbert had one arm in a sling and the others, while whole, were bruised with cuts, likely from their time in the wilds of Argyll.
The king looked back to the galley where a man was being helped onto the stretcher that Angus’ guards had brought to the beach. “Young James Douglas was Lamberton’s squire. He came to me with a message from the bishop when I was on my way to Scone and stayed, declaring his allegiance to me. He is the son of the brave Sir William Douglas who fought with Wallace and died in Edward’s prison. Jamie understandably wants the Douglas lands back, which Edward denied him. Since I became king, he has made himself indispensable. After Methven, his hunting and fishing kept us in food. He was wounded defending me in the MacDougall ambush at Dal Righ.”
“He sounds like a good man,” said Angus. “I had heard about what happened at Dal Righ. I am sorry.”
“We lost many good men, most all of those who had fled with us from Methven,” said Rob. “I insisted Jamie be carried on the stretcher. Thank you for thinking of it. As you might imagine, ’twas much to his dislike.”
“The climb to the castle is not a small one,” put in John. “He will be glad for it.”
As the stretcher drew closer, Angus could see the black-haired, bearded Douglas had a thin youthful face. A white bandage circled his head. His eyes were closed against the pain revealed by his grimace. A blanket had been draped over his still form for the cold day.
Angus said, “My men will see him safely to the castle.” Then, turning to Rob and those with him, in a louder voice, he said, “Come. My lady is eager to welcome you to our hall where the warmth of a fire and a feast await.”
CHAPTER 21
Dunaverty Castle, Kintyre Peninsula, late September 1306
EXCITEMENT GREW within Áine as she attended to the tasks for the men who would soon arrive at Dunaverty. Since the messenger had come early that day, telling them to watch for a galley from Saddell, she had known they would be entertaining the new king that night.
Áine remembered the handsome young man near in age to Angus, who she had first met at Dunseverick. Then, he was Sir Robert, Earl of Carrick. Now he was the King of Scots. For that reason, she had donned one of her best gowns. The azure blue velvet, its fitted bodice trimmed in rows of brilliant seed pearls, shimmered in the fire’s light.
She had kept her husband’s steward busy all morning directing the servants who were preparing chambers and setting out clothing. The cook had begun the meal they would serve to the king. As a final check, she had asked her handmaiden to see that all had been done properly. At midday, Nessa appeared to say, “It is done, Mistress. All is ready and the children will be kept occupied.”
“Thank you, Nessa. Brian is now a man so I expect him to join us for dinner but can you ask him to keep from the hall until then? I do not know what condition the king and his men will be in and I would see to their needs before they encounter a youth’s adoration.”
“He will understand.” Nessa said as she briefly curtseyed and left.
Áine sighed as she gazed about her, pleased with all she saw. The hall was redolent of roasting beef, herbs and fresh-baked bread. Soon, the cook would be baking apple tarts spiced with cinnamon that Áine had requested. The candles were lit and the fire, well-stoked, was flanked by cushioned chairs.
A servant was just pouring the wine when the door opened. In strode Angus, John and Duncan with a half-dozen men. Behind them, a black-haired man was carried on a stretcher by two of Angus’ guards.
She recognized Robert Bruce despite his unkempt auburn hair, his too-long beard and his worn clothing that spoke nothing of royalty. Dropping into a deep curtsey, she said, “My lord king, welcome to Dunaverty.”
To his companions, the king said, “Meet the Jewel of the Roe, as the beautiful Lady Áine is known in Ulster.”
The men smiled broadly and bowed before her, echoing the words, “My lady.” At that point, the man on the stretcher insisted he be allowed to stand and was helped to his feet by the guards.
Angus, who had never become accustomed to the attention she received from other men, came to stand next to her, draping his arm possessively around her shoulder. “My wife, gentlemen.”
The man who had risen from the stretcher said, “Sounds like a warning.”
Inwardly, Áine smiled.
Angus turned to her. “Áine, the man who just spoke is James Douglas, the Lord of Douglas since his father’s death, though his lands have yet to be restored to him. He was wounded in service of the king. Is our physician available to attend him?”
Áine nodded. “Conor MacBeth is waiting in the small chamber just off the hall.”
Angus said to the king, “The MacBeth is well-trained and skilled.”
James Douglas inclined his head. “You have my thanks.” And then, with a smirk, he added, “All I have had until now to tend my wounds are the rough hands of the king’s knights.”
“Impudent ungrateful lad!” said one of the knights but not in bad humor thought Áine. And, with that, a guard helped the young Douglas make his way to the room where the physician waited. The warrior’s limp told her his leg bore a wound as well as his head that was wrapped in a white bandage.
Áine sent a servant after them with two goblets of wine.
King Robert then introduced the rest of the men. “My lady, may I introduce Sir Gilbert Haye, who commented on young Douglas’ ingratitude. Next to him is the dark-haired Sir Neil Campbell, a cousin of your husband’s. And, finally, my brothers, Alexander, Dean of Glasgow, and Sir Thomas and Sir Edward. My other brother, Sir Nigel, has taken my queen, Elizabeth, my daughter, Marjorie, my sisters and the Countess of Buchan to safety.”
