Page 136 of Bound By Honor
“Very well,” she said, letting out a sigh. “Take him with you. If he is ever to seek the kingship of Tirowen, he must be a warrior as well as a leader of men.”
Angus put his arm around her and drew her close. She laid her head on his shoulder. “It will be all right, my love.” He only hoped it would be so.
“Since I was a young girl, I have known the world is not a place of peace, at least never for very long. Battles among the O’Neills and their kin were frequent as I grew up. And then there were the battles you fought for the Earl in Ulster. ’Tis no different now.”
“Except that now we fight for Scotland’s freedom and our rightful king. The seer of Rhinns promised peace after that.”
“I pray it comes soon.”
CHAPTER 24
Loch Linnhe, Argyll, September 1307
FROM THE DECK of his galley on Loch Linnhe, where he awaited King Robert, Angus gazed at his fleet of twenty galleys spread over the loch’s deep blue waters. The men were still in their mail, their hair tied back or braided clear of their smiling faces, brown from the sun. Victory over the MacDougalls on Lismore, the isle that should have been Macdonald territory since Alex’s wedding to Juliana, was theirs.
Now, all was quiet. In the distance, white clouds rested on the tops of the brown Grampian Mountains that lay between loch and sky. On either side of the loch, tree-lined slopes descended to the shore.
They had not been waiting long when a small boat put out from the eastern shore, causing ripples in the calm water as two men pulled at the oars and a third sat in the stern. Angus recognized the king and strode to the gunwale to welcome him aboard.
Someone had made him a surcoat of yellow on which Scotland’s crimson lion rampant was proudly displayed. A banner with the same royal lion rampant had been given to his friend by Bishop Wishart when he absolved him of Comyn’s death. It was fitting the king should wear the royal symbol on his chest.
Angus offered his hand to help the king aboard. Duncan, John and Brian joined in welcoming him. After they exchanged greetings, Angus asked, “How goes the fight?”
“Well enough,” said the king. He removed his helmet, circled by a golden crown, shaking free his auburn hair. “We sent the MacDoualls fleeing from Galloway across the border into Cumbria. Unfortunately, Dungal MacDouall escaped and still lives. But we did manage to take back Turnberry Castle, a most satisfying day.
“I have left Jamie Douglas in command of the southwest where he thrives.” With a smile, he added, “The English continue to fear him and call him ‘the Black Douglas’. When he moved on to Jedburgh, I moved north.”
“Who is with you now?” Angus asked.
“All whom you know. My brother, Edward, Sir Neil Campbell, Sir Gilbert Haye, Sir Robert Boyd and Malcolm, Earl of Lennox. The brother and son of Simon Fraser, who died the death of Wallace at King Edward’s hands, have joined us as well, along with their military retainers. Oh, and I now have a thousand men.”
“Ha!” Angus smiled. “You have been busy, my friend, meeting with much success. I have had a minor success in taking Lismore. Except for Andrew, Bishop of Argyll, who we left in his castle, we sent the MacDougalls running for the mainland and installed our own garrison to hold the former MacDougall castle at Achanduin. Beyond that, as you see,” Angus gestured to the fleet before him, “I bring many galleys, several commanded by chiefs of the lordship. All are loyal to you.
“Christina of Garmoran, whom you met, is in the MacRuairi galley just there,” Angus said, pointing to the galley flying her pennon. From the deck, a woman with her dark hair confined at her nape waved. “We have many more galleys than you see here, Rob, and I am keeping the shipwrights well occupied in constructing others. I thought these one thousand trained warriors and galloglass might do the job you have in mind.”
The king’s smile widened. “You have done well, Angus.”
“I would do more. What is your plan for our enemies, Rob?”
“To squeeze the MacDougalls between your galleys attacking from the water, and my army attacking from the land. I do not want them at my back when I go after the Comyns and the Earl of Ross.”
“Where are they?” Angus asked.
“My scouts tell me they are halfway up the loch on the east side in the woods. A day’s march for my men. I propose to chase them west to you so that, in two days’ time, you could intercept them on the loch’s shore.”
“Aye. We will be there.”
A day later, Angus’ galleys were arrayed along the bank of the loch at the location the king had indicated. In the afternoon, Angus ordered his galloglass onto the shore, a fierce wall of resistance to any MacDougall who would be running toward the loch and galleys that were no longer waiting for them as Angus had ordered them moved.
Crouched in front of the galloglass were his archers, their bows ready.
As King Robert had anticipated, soon, a large body of armed men came rushing toward them from the woods. Abruptly, they halted. In front of them, the Lord of the Isles, his galleys, galloglass and archers. Behind the fleeing MacDougalls, Robert Bruce and his army of Highlanders in pursuit.
Their defeat being imminent, the MacDougalls dropped their weapons.
John MacDougall of Lorne, Alexander’s son, acted as spokesman. “I would seek a truce.”
The king strode to stand next to Angus, meeting his steady gaze and slight nod.
