Page 133 of Bound By Honor
The galloglass captain inclined his head. “I will see it done, my lord.”
Áine said, “The women can help with supplies. Not just food but bandages and clothing. You will need fur-lined cloaks and those that are oiled for the rain. Leather ankle boots wear out on rough terrain. I could secure the supplies you will need. I am sure Juliana would help. If you agree, I would go with you on your voyage to the chiefs. As you call upon them, I can call upon their wives.”
“Another good idea.” Angus was proud of Áine. In her, he had more than a beautiful wife who had given him his heir. She was a partner who did not begrudge his going to war.
Angus remained on Islay long enough to reacquaint himself with his children, to see his captains and crews rested and the dead remembered with special Masses.
He tested Brian’s fighting skills that assured Angus his adopted son was ready to have those skills tested in battle. Then, with Áine and Brian and his brother, John, he sailed north, taking two galleys with fresh crews and armed warriors.
Duncan agreed to remain on Islay to coordinate with the chiefs, to attend to the rest of the fleet and send out scouts for reports. Juliana continued in her role to work with the Dunyvaig steward and servants in overseeing the household.
THE DAY WAS FAIR when they set out from Dunyvaig. Áine’s spirits rose as the galley skimmed over the sun-kissed water, a deep blue today. Overhead, hung a cloud-studded sky.
The men pulled hard at the oars as they passed the Isle of Jura and raised the sail. Behind them, in the two following galleys, she glimpsed the sun reflecting off the crews’ silvered weapons.
Gulls followed them for some while, screeching overhead. When the gulls left them, dolphins swam alongside the galley to the delight of the crew.
Angus had told her they would sail first to Colonsay, then to Mull, Morvern, Moidart, Skye and Barra. From there, they would return to Islay. Having sailed these waters before with Angus, she looked forward to the familiar shores.
This place of blue sea and lochs and great glens, though not the place she had imagined she would spend her life, had become her home; and the man who stood tall in the prow, his face set toward the north, was the much-loved father of her children. Except for the lines around his eyes where he laughed and squinted in the sun, he had changed little since she had first met him. At thirty-four he was as handsome as that day he first came to Dunseverick, mayhap more so, for now she saw him through the eyes of love.
“You worry for my brother,” said John, coming up to her where she sat midship.
“It is so obvious?”
“Aye, to me. I have come to read your face and discern your thoughts, particularly when you watch my brother. You need not worry. Angus takes risks but not before considering them carefully. Like Robert Bruce, my brother is a man of strategy. The two rarely disagree. In the battles to come, Angus’ knowledge of our enemies and our galloglass under his command will be crucial to the king’s success.”
Áine looked at the man beside her, so like Angus in appearance a stranger might confuse one for the other. But their manner was different. John was quieter, less apt to assume command. “Does he watch out for you or you him?” she asked with a smile.
“Aye.”
She chuckled. “I suppose it is best you allow him to think he is your protector.”
“Since Alex’s death at the hands of the MacDougalls, Angus keeps me close, always arranging my position in battle near his. I feel the same about him. We are the only sons of Angus Mor left. It is much like Robert Bruce’s treatment of his one remaining brother, Sir Edward.”
Áine thought again of King David of Israel and the story she had told Robert Bruce. David had lost his friend, Jonathan, who was closer than a brother. How lonely David must have been. “I understand,” she said. “I am glad Angus has you with him.”
“Have you ever seen Angus fight?” John asked her.
An image of him on the practice field came to her. “Only in practice bouts with his men.”
“In those, he holds back his full strength, but in battle, he is near invincible. His sparth axe is a blur as it carves into flesh. His sword and his dagger, when he resorts to them, are deadly. He has fought with the galloglass since he was fourteen. And, for a man his size, he is fast. There is a reason King Robert places Angus on his right, for once he is there, the king never fears an enemy coming at his most vulnerable side.”
The Isle of Colonsay loomed ahead. Áine rose to watch the Bay of Kiloran come into view. She remembered sitting on that same crescent beach listening to Angus tell her of his natural son in Glen Coe. She wondered about the lad who was of an age with her own son, both old enough to join their father in battle. Brian, standing near Angus in the prow, would want to go. Would this son in Glen Coe do the same?
Gilchrist Macduffie, came to meet them as they beached the ships in the wide crescent bay. When it began raining, he invited them into the castle where they shared tankards of ale and a light repast. Gilchrist had become chief of the Macduffies since his father, Malcolm, died the year before.
Gilchrist’s first question to Angus concerned the war. “How goes it with the new king? Does he prevail?”
“Aye,” said Angus, “though the war is far from over. I have come to ask for your support, for the next battles will concern our enemies, the MacDougalls and Comyns. My plan is to sail up Loch Linnhe and meet King Robert to advance up the Great Glen.”
“We will gladly supply men and galleys for that venture,” said Gilchrist. “I shall go myself. In Robert Bruce, we finally have a worthy King of Scots.”
“I take pleasure in thinking of you leading the Macduffie galleys,” said Angus. “Since you keep our records, you would be an asset to me to account for our supplies and our needs for such an undertaking.”
“You must tell me how Bruce’s being crowned king began, as your earlier messages were general in nature.”
“Aye, I will,” replied Angus.
