Page 6 of Bound By Honor
They shared a laugh as they entered the great hall to find the long table now turned and placed at one end. Two trestle tables had been added at right angles to the head table. All were covered with white cloths. Candles flickered on each table and a fire burned steadily in the stone fireplace, filling the air with the faint odor of wood smoke.
Rob’s father, the Earl of Carrick, left the servants he’d been speaking with and strode toward them. “As you two will be the only younger sons in the hall tonight, I thought you might like to serve the wine before taking your seats at the lower end of one of the trestles.”
Rob nodded his head. “As you wish, sir.”
Angus nodded his assent. He had only been asked to serve once before but he knew it was often a task given to the younger sons of noblemen. Importantly for this evening, it also provided a way to hear the conversations of the lords as they dined.
The same nobles and their sons he had seen earlier began to trail in from the stairs leading from the upper chambers to take their seats. Added to their number was a woman clothed in a gown of mulberry-colored silk with a jeweled belt and a veil that partially covered her auburn hair.
“’Tis my lady mother,” said Rob, “the Countess of Carrick. Have you met her?”
Angus gazed with approval at the slender and very pretty countess who he judged to be in her early thirties. “Nay, but I would like to.”
Rob urged Angus forward. They arrived in front of the lady of the castle and Angus bowed before her.
“So, you are Angus Mor’s middle son,” she said, her eyes alight with interest as she perused his person. “Welcome to Turnberry.” Behind those blue eyes, Angus sensed a woman of great strength.
“Thank you, my lady.”
“I can see that you and Rob are enjoying each other’s company. My son has served at our table before when we’ve had visiting noblemen so he can direct you.” She gave her son a passing glance and glided back to her husband where she took her place at the head table.
“When we finish serving,” said Rob, “and are playing our game of chess, I will tell you how my mother won my father’s marriage proposal. It is a story oft told to my father’s amusement.”
In the gallery above the great hall where he and Rob had hidden earlier that day, minstrels began to play their harp, lute and lyre.
Angus eagerly joined his new friend in serving the wine to the seated nobles, catching snippets of their conversation that he now understood related to the meeting earlier that day.
“You could force the issue by seizing a few castles in the southwest,” said the Earl of Menteith to the Lord of Annandale. His voice had been pitched low but, listening attentively, Angus had overheard.
“I have been considering such a move—” began Robert the Noble.
Angus did not hear the rest as the aged Earl of Dunbar, sitting to the right of the Earl of Carrick and his countess, beckoned him. When he finished pouring for Dunbar’s earl, he cast a glance toward the trestle tables and noticed that the two nobles from Ireland, the Red Earl of Ulster and Thomas de Clare, had their heads together, whispering beneath the sound of the minstrels. Turning from de Clare, the Red Earl leaned over to Angus’ father to speak in his ear.
Angus and Rob had just finished pouring the wine and assuring the flagons set before the guests were full when servants entered the hall bearing great platters of food. The smells of herbed meats filled the air making Angus very hungry. He had eaten nothing since breaking his fast at Dunaverty Castle that morn.
“Let us find our seats,” said Rob, coming to him. “I am famished.”
They claimed the last seats across from each other at the end of one trestle and began to fill their trenchers from the sumptuous feast set before them. Dinner was everything Angus had hoped it would be. Trout in white butter sauce, chicken with cumin and cream sauce and beef served in a wine currant sauce were among the offerings. These were accompanied by leeks with walnuts, herbed beets and parsley bread. By the time Angus finished, he was sated and rubbing his stomach.
“When my mother leaves the hall,” said Rob, looking in her direction, “it will be time for us to retire to our chess game.”
A short while later, they had left the hall for their game. As Angus bent over the chessboard, contemplating his next move, his new friend began to tell him of how his parents came to marry. A candle flickering at his side cast Rob’s face in shadow as he spoke.
“My mother was first married to Michael de Kilconquhar, who died at Acre while on crusade. She was told of his death by one of his companions-in-arms who arrived at Carrick with the news. As it happened, the messenger was my father, who was, I am told by my mother, a handsome man in his second decade. My mother was only fifteen at the time but she knew what she wanted.” He paused before adding, “She is still a formidable woman.”
Angus thought of the auburn-haired woman he had met earlier and tried to imagine what a formidable woman looked like at fifteen. Neither of his older sisters could be so described.
“Anyway,” Rob went on, “as the story goes, she was smitten with my father and decided to hold him prisoner at Turnberry until he agreed to marry her.”
Angus forgot the bishop he was holding in his hand. “What?”
Rob smiled. “They were married the next year.”
Angus shook his head. “That is some story.”
“My mother told me the tale herself.”
“’Tis amazing.”
