Page 130 of Bound By Honor
“You were hoping Edward would pass from this life, that you might claim the throne without his interference,” Angus said to his friend. “The event came later than you might have wanted, but at least it has finally come.”
“None too soon,” said Robert Bruce. “Edward’s son has his father’s penchant for cruelty, but he lacks Longshanks’ shrewdness in battle or his determination to win at all costs.”
On the 7thof July, cursing Scotland with his last breath, or so it was said, King Edward died three miles from Carlisle, never having reached Scotland. When the news arrived at King Robert’s camp, all celebrated.
“Where will you go now that much of the southwest is yours?” Angus asked his friend.
“Since de Valence has returned to Ayrshire and James Douglas has gone back to Douglasdale with plans to move on to Selkirk, I think I will take the rest of the men to Galloway to deal the MacDoualls a final blow.”
“A worthy target for the devastation they dealt your brothers and their Irish allies. And then?”
“If all goes well in Galloway, I would head toward the Great Glen where the Comyns and MacDougalls hide, along with the Earl of Ross who betrayed my queen and defiled a church’s sanctuary.”
“If you but give me a few weeks to see some of my Islesmen home and come with fresh galleys and fresh Islesmen, I would join you there.”
Rob smiled. “I suppose I can allow my good friend a brief respite. Come to me at the beginning of September. I would go up the Great Glen with you.”
“Aye,” said Angus. “’Tis a plan. I will anchor my galleys off the north end of Lismore Isle and wait for you at Port Appin. The isle was to be Juliana’s dowry when she married my brother, Alexander, but the MacDougalls refused to keep the bargain. It is time I claimed it. If you need me before then, send word to Islay.”
They parted as good friends with a strong handshake and an understanding of their future plans.
Angus allowed any of his men who desired to stay to remain with the king. Those who wanted to go home to see to their families, crops and cattle were told they may return with Angus. Since Ayr was not far from where he had hidden his galleys, he was soon sailing west for Dunyvaig, his heart eager for the sight of Áine.
Dunyvaig Castle, Isle of Islay, end of July 1307
ÁINE HAD CARRIED her husband’s letter with her since the day a fisherman brought it to Dunyvaig. She had read the words so many times the parchment was now ragged in her hand. Standing with Fand on the summer grass in front of the castle, the wind blowing her hair behind her, she read the message again.
Angus invited a reply and she had sent one, assuring him she and the children were well and that she prayed for him and the king each day. She hoped he had received it. She did not want him to worry for them while he was gone.
It had been months since she’d seen Angus’ face or felt his touch or heard his laughter. Her heart ached for want of him.
News filtered to the Isles, so she and Juliana and the men Angus had left behind to guard his realm could follow the war raging in the east. Thus, she knew that King Edward died while leading a great army north to fight Robert Bruce. She took it as a sign of God’s protection of both the new king and her husband that the one they called Longshanks died on English soil, never reaching Scotland.
Clutching the letter to her breast, she bowed her head and asked God that King Edward’s son would fail in the war he would continue. “Lord, let King Robert and Angus prevail.”
Looking up, a flock of geese crossed the sky in front of her. She gazed past them, looking southeast toward Carrick, shielding her eyes from the noonday sun. At first, she thought the puff of white on the horizon might be a cloud but, as she continued to watch, it grew and she realized it was a sail. More than one sail. It was a fleet of galleys! Tears filled her eyes.Angus. Could it be Angus?
Juliana came running from the castle. “Áine, do you see? The lead galley flies the Lord of the Isles’ banner.”
Áine nodded, tears spilling from her eyes. “Yes, I see it. Angus has returned.”
Before the galleys entered Lagavulin Bay, a crowd had gathered on the grass-covered headland to await the returning warriors. Angus’ constable and some of the guards strode toward the ships. The families of the crews were already making their way to the wide beach where the galleys were being dragged up to higher ground.
In front of Áine stood Brian, now a tall sixteen, and Alexander, a sturdy seven-year-old, with the two wolfhounds, Fand and Cormac. Juliana’s boys, in between Áine’s sons in age, gamboled not far away. The nurses for Finvola and Mary, age three and two, took them by the hand. Nessa, who suddenly appeared at Áine’s side, shielded her eyes and stared intently at the lead galley.
Áine watched Angus, studying his walk, his manner. She detected no limp, no change in his stride.Thank God.
Casting her gaze over the women who waited on the beach some distance away, Áine said, “He speaks with the families. Likely, some of the men who went with him have not returned.”
Nessa said, “’Tis always a sad day when sons do not come home to their parents and fathers do not return to their children, Mistress, but you cannot keep men from war.”
“Not this war in any event,” replied Áine, for she knew the war for Scotland’s independence was embraced by the Macdonalds and all in the Isles.
They began to walk toward the beach where the galleys disgorged their crews. The boys ran ahead.
“Angus and I must comfort the families who have lost sons and husbands,” she said, dreading the task but understanding its importance.
“Look, Mistress!” exclaimed Nessa. “Lord Angus’ captain is there on the beach.”
