Page 157 of Bound By Honor
He drew her close and kissed her. “And I you, my love.”
They clung to each other for a long moment. Angus drew strength from her warmth, grateful to God she was in his life. Kissing the top of her head, he asked, “Why were you looking for me?”
“I came to let you know all is ready for the chiefs’ dinner and suggest you wear the new surcoat I made you. The black galley flying a red pennon on gold cloth announces to all who you are. If you are captured, it will save your life for the Lord of the Isles will bring a large ransom.”
“Very practical,” he said with a teasing smile. “I will wear it. l am looking forward to the dinner, for I would have the chiefs know I am grateful to them. Besides, the next time we gather, there may be fewer of us in attendance.”
At the dinner that followed, all in the hall were merry, toasting each other and telling tales of past battles. While Christina MacRuairi did not come herself this time, she sent a contingent of three hundred led by her half-brother, Ruairi MacRuairi, who was sworn to King Robert.
As the meal drew to a close, the notes of the harp stilled, and the bard finished his poem, a tribute to the men of the Isles. All were in a contemplative mood.
Angus rose to speak. “I am more grateful than you can know that so many of you have come. King Robert will be much encouraged.” The chiefs listened intently as he continued. “Tomorrow, we sail at daybreak for the Firth of Clyde and then up the River Clyde where we will leave our galleys and head inland toward Stirling.
“In a sennight’s time, we should arrive at the king’s camp. I understand our spearmen will fight in schiltrons organized by the king. Those of us who carry sparth axes are not likely to wield a spear, but the king will advise us once we are there. Before you depart tonight for your bed, I have asked Alan, Bishop of the Isles, to pray for us that God may protect us and bring us home. Tomorrow, before we sail, he will pray with the men.”
The tonsured bishop, wearing a plain cassock, came to stand before the chiefs. All bowed their heads as he prayed. Some of the chiefs and some of the warriors outside might be going home to Heaven rather than returning to the Isles, for death, too, was a part of life. Every warrior had to be prepared to face it.
Angus made love to Áine that night, knowing it might be the last time. He treasured her body, wanting to leave his beloved wife with a memory for the nights, however many there would be, when she would sleep alone.
On the shore the next morning, Bishop Alan prayed for the men who kneeled before him. Then, Angus kissed Áine and their children goodbye and, with his brother and Brian O’Neill at his side, turned toward his galley.
From behind him, Áine cried out. “Wait! I nearly forgot!” Handing him a sealed note, she said, “For King Robert.”
Angus had no need to read it, but he was curious. “What is it?”
“Encouragement.”
“From the life of King David?”
She smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “Just so.”
With shouts of “Godspeed” from all who stood on the shore, the men took to the oars. Once in the sea, they shipped oars and raised the sails. To see so many galleys with colorful pennons flying from the masts was a grand sight that Angus knew he would remember for as long as he lived.
“My heart beats faster looking at all the galleys behind us,” said John.
“Aye,” replied Angus. “I do not expect to see such a sight again in my lifetime.”
They sailed around the southern tip of Kintyre and into the Firth of Clyde. As the Firth narrowed to the River Clyde they followed it past Dumbarton.
Angus gave the order to lower the sail as they headed for shore. The men again took to the oars and soon beached the ships on the riverbank just as a light rain began to fall.
Angus knew they could reach the woods south of Stirling in one day if they marched straight through, but it would be a very long day and the men had already rowed much. In consultation with his chiefs, he decided to camp at the halfway point where they could seek shelter from the intermittent rain.
Two days later at midday, they arrived at the Torwood forest south of the Bannock Burn to find thousands of armed men overflowing the ground. Many carried long spears.
“From the activity,” said John, “they appear to be training the schiltrons.”
“With your permission,” said Brian, “I would seek out Sir Edward.”
Angus knew of Brian’s friendships with the king’s brother and his men, forged in their trip to Ulster and their fight in Galloway. “Aye, but come see me before bedding down for the night.”
Brian eagerly nodded and left them.
Asking his captains to wait, Angus strode forward to greet King Robert, standing at the edge of the woods, surveying all. Behind Angus was his galloglass guard, their six-foot sparth axes to hand. The men standing around the king drew back at their approach, for Angus’ guards were men of great strength and stature, bristling with weapons, reminding all of their reputation as those who charged the enemy with extreme aggression.
The king turned with a wide smile for Angus. “Here is a welcome sight.” To the others, he said, “Now that the Lord of the Isles has finally come, our army is complete.”
Douglas, who stood a short distance from the king, let his gaze pass over Angus and his guards. “I see giants again walk among us.”
