Page 4 of Bound By Honor
Though his father had been knighted, Angus did not seek the distinction. He had trained with his father’s galloglass warriors whose fierce prowess in battle was valued by the kings of both Scotland and Ireland. Still, he liked this Bruce’s bravado. Mayhap he had found a kindred spirit.
Angus kept his own sword sheathed. “I, for one, would like to know what business such men are about this day.”
“You do?” came Robert’s reply, an incredulous look on his face. Puffing out his chest, he sheathed his sword. “I can arrange it.”
Angus leaned forward. “You can? How?”
Robert shifted his gaze to the castle ramparts behind him. “I was born in this castle. I know every inch of it. There is a hidden access to the minstrels’ gallery where we can hear all that is said in the hall, no one the wiser.”
Anticipation coursed through Angus. A surreptitious eavesdropping appealed to him. And it would not exactly be attending the meeting. With a sweep of his hand, he said, “By all means, lead on, new friend.”
Robert smiled, obviously pleased he had thought of it. “Follow me.”
They entered by a side door and crossed through the kitchens to the chagrin of the cook, who frowned and shook her head at them. But what could she say to the master’s son?
A short way on, they ventured into a dark passage. Angus followed on Robert’s heels until they reached a wooden staircase where he paused. “Up here,” he whispered, “but be quiet.”
At the top of the stairs, Robert dropped to his knees. “Keep down and mind your sword,” he said in a low voice. “They cannot see us as the parapet is solid oak.”
Angus had seen the gallery from below and knew this to be true. He dropped to his knees and followed. As they carefully found their way onto the narrow platform, Angus could hear voices rising into the air.
“We must first acknowledge,” said the Lord of Annandale, “that Scotland’s king, now dead, has left no male heir and only the possibility that Queen Yolande’s pregnancy will lead to a male child. Otherwise, it falls to his wee granddaughter, the one they call the Maid of Norway, to uphold the crown.”
“There is no precedent for female succession even should Margaret of Norway grow to adulthood and there is no other heir,” said a deep voice Angus recognized as belonging to the Earl of Dunbar.
Angus grew excited at hearing these words.Their business is the successor to Scotland’s throne!
Then, from below, he heard Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick, say, “My father, Lord of Annandale, is of royal blood, a descendant of King David and second cousin of the late King Alexander. Moreover, he has the stature to command the loyalty of his fellow Scots.”
“Aye, there is none more suited to wear the crown.” The familiar voice was that of Angus’ father.
“John Balliol will challenge your claim,” said a voice Angus thought he recognized as that of Walter Stewart, Earl of Menteith.
“Balliol is aligned with the Comyns who are joined in purpose with the MacDougalls, the enemies of the Macdonalds,” said Angus’ father.
“Then we can count on the support of the Lord of the Isles?” said the Lord of Annandale.
“You have always had it,” said Angus’ father.
“Should King Alexander’s descendants fail, Guardians of the Realm must be appointed to serve until a new king is chosen,” said the deep-voiced Earl of Dunbar.
“And in the choosing,” said the Lord of Annandale, “there will likely be war when I put forward my name. For that, we will require soldiers such as you, de Burgh, and you, Macdonald, command—the famed galloglass.”
“And the ships to bring them to Scotland’s western shore,” said one who Angus thought might be Walter Stewart, Earl of Menteith.
“Just so,” replied Robert the Noble. “Angus, you have more ships than anyone.”
“Aye, I’ll not dispute that,” replied the Lord of the Isles.
“As long as we are speaking of soldiers and ships,” said the Earl of Ulster, “we in Ireland have enemies who would have us dead. Our own forces, barring any help from England, are insufficient.”
“I see that my ships and galloglass will be much in demand,” said the Lord of the Isles, a note of humor in his voice. Angus pictured his sire with a wry smile on his face. He must have known, or at least suspected, why the Macdonalds were invited to this meeting.
“Your Islesmen are known to be fierce fighters,” said de Burgh. “I would hardly want to go to war without them. But I would ask that henceforth, you not supply your galloglass to my enemies.”
“Add my voice to that of de Burgh,” said Thomas de Clare, Lord of Thomond. “I have been trying to hold on to the Irish lands King Edward gave me for seven long years without success, which is why I’m in London instead of Ireland.”
“Agreed,” said Angus’ father. “No longer will the lordship supply mercenaries to any Irish lord who opposes the Earldom of Ulster.”
