Page 33 of Bound By Honor
The Bruces, too, would make the same choice. After all, his friend, Rob, now Sir Robert, was in London serving the English king. Rob had once told Angus the future of the Bruces might be tied to King Edward. And so might be the fate of the Macdonalds—the only way to save their lands should Balliol become king.
In the early spring of 1292, as the first primroses were blooming in the woods and the gorse painted Kintyre’s meadows a rich gold, Angus’ father sent for him. The message arrived as he and Duncan were standing at the castle wall watching a mated pair of sea eagles in their ritual display, the male’s loud calls echoing off the water. On the horizon, Angus could just make out the faint outline of Ulster.
A courier approached and handed him a sealed parchment. “From Lord Macdonald.”
Angus thanked the courier and sent him to the kitchens for a meal. Opening the message, he quickly read the summons. Glancing up at Duncan, he said, “It seems Father has yet another task for me and requests my presence at Ardtornish. Will you come?”
“Aye, of course. I will send a message to my father that I am on business for Angus Mor. He will not question it.”
The next day, Angus and Duncan sailed north for Morvern. The rain that followed them was light and, thankfully, did not linger. Nor did it discourage the dolphins that swam alongside the ship, leaping in the air as they rode the bow wave. Angus always suspected the creatures were drawn to the crew’s chanting when they took to the oars.
The afternoon Angus and Duncan arrived, the wind was blowing hard as they stepped ashore in the shadow of Ardtornish Castle. Angus’ younger brother, John, who must have been watching them sail down the sound, waved from where he stood on the shore.
John brushed a strand of his light brown hair from his eyes. “It took you long enough.”
“Father’s message said nothing of haste,” said Angus. “Besides, you would not expect us to sail here in a day. We stopped at Claig Castle.” The massive sea fortress onFraoch Eilean, the Heather Isle just off the coast of Jura, was built by Somerled to defend the Sound of Islay. Now, it served the Macdonalds as a convenient place from which to extract a toll from ships passing through the sound.
While Duncan described for John their brief stay at Claig, Angus made a studied assessment of his younger brother. In the year since they had hunted together in Morvern, John had grown taller. Mayhap he was anxious to be included in more of the family business. “Are you longing for another adventure, younger brother?”
“I am,” said John. “Father wants you to sail again, something about the chiefs. I am hoping you might take me with you.”
“I will if I can,” said Angus, his attention drawn to the calves grazing on the green hillside. “We have added to our herd, I see.”
“Aye. Father is pleased so many were born this spring.”
The sun had just broken through the clouds as they climbed the great headland to the castle. The day’s light persisted as Angus, his brother and cousin sat down to dinner with Angus Mor and his wife.
Angus’ eyes grew wide as a young servant girl set before him a platter of roast trout wrapped in bacon, winking at him as she walked away. It was one of his favorite dishes, as his mother well knew.
“Cook has been waiting for you to arrive,” said John, “and, by chance, I caught several trout this morning, one of which you are eating.”
Angus speared a piece of trout with his dagger and drew it to his mouth. “You may miss a shot at a deer from time to time, but you are a skilled fisherman and, for this delicious trout, I thank you.”
When they had eaten their fill, Angus said, “You spoil us, Mother.”
Duncan, whose mouth was full, nodded.
“I suppose it is ever the case that I must wait for my sons to gather around me before I can expect such a grand feast,” said Angus’ father with a look of feigned offense.
“Not so, my lord,” chided his wife in a friendly manner, “and you know it. Why, Cook would do this for you any day should you but request it.”
“All the same, ’tis good to have you home, Angus, no matter the meal. I could have told you of the task in a message but I wanted to see you. And glad I am you came, too, Nephew,” he said to Duncan. “The task I have for you is important in light of our troubled times.”
Angus paused in his eating to capture his father’s next words.
“I want you to call upon the chiefs and the others who will gather on Islay for the Council in early autumn. The sennight before Michaelmas will do, I think. Share with them what we know of what is taking place at Berwick where Edward decides who will wear the Scottish crown. Gather the mood of our chiefs. Answer their questions if you can. We will have a full discussion when we meet at Finlaggan.”
The Council of the Isles, the governing body of the lordship, met on an island in Loch Finlaggan on Islay. There, the chiefs debated matters of great import and rendered decisions on disputed matters. Angus always looked forward to the gatherings, so he was not displeased with his father’s request. “Aye, I will gladly undertake such a mission.”
“I would go along if you allow it, Uncle,” offered Duncan.
“’Tis good you do,” said Angus’ father. “I have been in contact with my younger brother, your father, but what you learn will add to his knowledge, as I expect it will add to mine.” With a glance at Angus, he said, “Take John with you as well. ’Twill be an opportunity for him to better know the chiefs and for them to remember I have three sons.”
Angus tossed his younger brother a grin. “It would be my pleasure.”
“If you can find him at home, it might be advisable to visit Donald Mackay on the Rhinns of Islay. He is a seer I have consulted before. I have not been sleeping well and he may know the reason.”
Angus could not recall his father having spoken of a seer but he knew the peninsula in the west of Islay called the Rhinns. “I will do as you request.”
