Page 150 of Bound By Honor
At the first sighting of a ship flying the MacDougall pennon, Angus ordered his archers to the fore. “Ready your bows!” His captains in the other galleys repeated the order to their crews. Crouching on the starboard side, the archers steadied their bows. Behind them, his galloglass stood, axes to hand, while the rest of the crew kept the ship steady.
Angus had no need to slowly announce each command to his archers. They were sufficiently experienced that he could shout the commands in rapid succession. He said them slowly on this occasion to announce to MacDougall his time to decide a course of action was short.
John MacDougall’s ships, an even dozen loaded with crates and barrels, slowed, the crews shipping oars. They drifted closer.
When they were thirty feet away, Angus shouted, “Nock!” The order was carried down the line of his ships. In response, in a single move, his archers fixed their arrow shafts to the strings. Tension hung thick in the air as the MacDougall ships drifted closer.
John MacDougall, lightly armored, stood in the lead galley. “Let us pass in the name of Edward, King of England!”
Angus smiled, for he anticipated with pleasure what would be his reply. “In the name of Robert Bruce, King of Scots by God’s grace, you shall not pass!”
Before the MacDougalls reached for a weapon, Angus ordered the archers to “mark” and then “draw”. Their bows poised to send hundreds of arrows into the MacDougalls’ galleys, John MacDougall abruptly ordered his crews to draw back out of range.
Once Angus was satisfied the threat had passed, he ordered his archers to lower their bows. He was prepared to stay as long as it took to turn the English ships around and send them home. As it turned out, he did not have to wait even a day. Hours later, MacDougall turned his ships and rowed out of sight, presumably back to the Firth of Clyde.
“Do you think they have really gone?” asked John.
“They will wait out of sight, hoping we will leave. I will send galleys to either shore to give the crews a respite, but we will not depart until we are certain they have given up. And that will require scouts. Take some men in one of the galleys to the shore and track the MacDougall galleys on foot, staying hidden in the trees. His galleys will not be moving swiftly.”
Angus appointed one galley to stand watch further down the Firth so most of his men could spend the night ashore. Food was not a problem; they had brought sufficient provisions.
The next morning, John appeared with the scouts. “They are well away.”
When Angus was sure the English king had been deprived of his provisions, he took his fleet home to Islay, where his men celebrated their easy victory.
At the turning of the year, another letter arrived from Duncan. Angus read a few passages to Áine:
King Robert sends his thanks for a job well done. As a result of your blocking the English ships in the west, King Edward had no choice but to retrace his steps east and cross the border back to Berwick, all the while harassed by Jamie Douglas like a midge after bared skin.
With the English in retreat, King Robert conceived a clever plan. Just before Christmas, he sent rumors about that he intended to attack the Isle of Man, which, as you know, is in English hands. In truth, he had no such intention, at least not then. He merely wanted the English ships hovering off Scotland’s east coast to leave, which they promptly did, likely heading toward Man. That allowed our ships on the Continent to return and deliver much-needed food and weapons. With the food and supplies we have received from Ireland and the Continent, ’tis a happy Christmas for all.
Our spies tell us King Edward is playing cat and mouse with his nobles as he hides his favorite from those who want his head. I do not suppose that will turn out well for Gaveston but it serves our purposes to keep the English distracted. Lastly, King Robert asks you to watch the ships sailing the Irish Sea.
Dunyvaig Castle, Isle of Islay, late February, 1312
WINTER’S HARSHER WEATHER often brought wind, rain and snow to Islay. February was the coldest month. Áine did not mind, for she treasured the time with Angus the colder weather gave her. Only galleys needed for important observation of enemy-infested waters or the delivery of critical supplies and messages ventured out.
With Alexander fostering in Ulster, and her youngest son, John, often with his nurse, Áine spent part of each day with her daughters. Finvola and Mary, now seven and six, were the delight of their father, scrambling into his lap to shower him with kisses.
When the weather allowed, the young girls joined Áine on her walks along the shore to visit the birds. Fand, her wolfhound, was ever at her side.
Juliana, her sons all in Ireland, either fostering or in the employ of Irish lords as galloglass, often accompanied Áine. “’Tis very cold today,” said Juliana, as they broke their fast together, “but it is clear and the sea fairly calm.”
Áine nodded. “If we wear our heavy cloaks, we could take the girls on a walk. They would like that. The weather has been miserable for so long, they have rarely been outside the castle.”
Áine found Angus and John in the small chamber above the hall where they often met to discuss the business of the lordship. Warmed by the fire, it was a good place to be on a cold morning. “Angus,” she said. Both men looked up, two sets of blue eyes focused on her. “I just wanted to let you know, Juliana and I are taking the girls for a walk.”
Angus glanced out the window. “Not too bad. Mayhap even sun today.”
“We will not be long. The wildflowers have begun to bloom and some of the birds are returning.” Seeing the parchments scattered on the table, she asked, “Are you two planning another trip for the king?”
“Aye,” said Angus. “He is busy raiding English cattle but food is still needed for his army and he’ll want weapons, of course. We will make another trip next month.”
“If you need me, I will not be long.” She turned to go, gathering her cloak and the girls’ warmest mantles. Soon, they left the promontory and were walking along the pebbled shore, Fand following closely, sniffing at the ground.
Mary pointed to the seals lazing on the rocks near shore, absorbing what sun there was. “Look! The seals are out!”
Offshore, black and white gannets soared high into the sky only to dive sharply into the water, fishing. Mary noticed those, too, staring at their amazing feat. But Finvola was looking down at the tide pools with serious intent. She was Áine’s starfish and shell finder. Picking up a shell, she held it up for Áine to see. “I shall add this one to my collection,” she said, handing it to Áine.
