The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(20)

Bella, Queen Elizabeth, Robert’s daughter Marjory by his first wife, and two of his sisters, Christina and Mary, had been forced to take refuge along with them. For the past month they’d been living off the land like outlaws, in hastily constructed huts surrounded by a simple wooden palisade in the woods near the banks of Loch Trummel, sheltered by Duncan the Stout, the Chief of Clan Donnachaidh.

Yesterday, with the hunt closing in from the English in the east, Robert had tried to push westward. But he’d found his path blocked at Dal Righ by John MacDougall, Lord of Lorn, and one thousand of his clansmen. With the few hundred of his remaining men, the king had fought them back, barely escaping with his life. One of Lorn’s men had him in his grasp, literally ripping the cloak from Robert’s shoulders, taking his brooch along with it.

Now, even their temporary shelter couldn’t protect them. They were fleeing again.

Thank God, Joan wasn’t here. MacRuairi had been right: This was no place for her daughter.

It turned out he’d been right about a number of things. She’d vastly underestimated King Edward’s fury at his rebellious “subjects.” The full force of his hammer had come down upon them. Even she had a price upon her head.

And now, the infamous “dragon banner” had been raised. The flag promised no mercy for the rebels. They could be killed without trial and raped with impunity.

She smothered a shiver of fear and turned back to consoling her cousin, pushing aside thoughts of Lachlan MacRuairi. She’d heard little of the brigand since the coronation—not that she’d been listening for word of him. With the way the war had been going, the opportunistic pirate had probably changed sides already.

She clenched her jaw. The only thing she should be thinking about was getting to safety so that she could find a way to get her daughter back. Four months seemed an eternity. But at least Joan hadn’t been forced to marry. Bella’s “treason” had taken care of that threat.

She stroked her cousin’s hair, as the terrified girl wept on her shoulder.

“What will become of us?” Margaret sobbed. “How will we make it to Kildrummy with only a handful of men to protect us?”

Bella didn’t say anything. What could she say, when she didn’t know? The king sending the women away with only a small band of knights to protect them sounded terrifying to her as well.

Her cousin lifted her head, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. “I’ve never even heard of the man who will be leading us. Lachlan Mac … Mac—”

Bella stiffened. “MacRuairi?”

Her cousin nodded furiously. “That’s it—do you know him?”

Her mouth fell in a grim line. “He was one of the men who brought me from Balvenie.”

In the months of frustration and forced separation from her daughter—her husband had dared her to try to come and fetch her—Bella had told her cousin most of what had happened. The heartbreak hadn’t lessened; it had only grown worse as each day of their separation passed. She dared not ask herself when she would see her daughter again; the answer was too painful to contemplate.

But at least Joan knew Bella had not intentionally left her behind. A few weeks after the coronation, Robert told her that a message had been taken to her daughter. He wouldn’t tell her the details but assured her Joan had been told everything. Bella had been touched by the king’s thoughtfulness.

Margaret gasped. “The one who lied to you about Joan?”

She nodded, and her cousin looked appropriately horrorstruck.

Bella couldn’t believe it either. Not only was the king sending them away, he was entrusting his family to a man who made no qualms about being loyal only to his purse. MacRuairi’s untrustworthiness wasn’t her only objection. After their last meeting, she didn’t want to have to rely on him again for her safety—or for anything, for that matter. And perhaps most significantly, she didn’t like her own reaction to him.

Lachlan MacRuairi made her uneasy.

“Don’t worry, cousin, I’ll speak to Robert and get to the bottom of this. There must be some mistake.”

Leaving Margaret with the task of gathering their meager belongings, Bella went in search of the king.

He wasn’t at the King’s Hall—how the army had taken to referring to the royal hut. After Queen Elizabeth confirmed Margaret’s story, she directed Bella to the banks of the loch where what was left of the king’s army camped.

Bella hurried to the loch. But the sight that met her only increased her anxiousness. What was left of the army was in disarray. Perhaps only two hundred men remained, many of them wounded and bleeding, some with limbs barely attached, lying on the ground where they’d collapsed or been dumped after yesterday’s retreat.

The stench was horrible. She covered her mouth to try not to retch. She should be used to it. But the scent of blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids simmering together in a sickly mess was something she didn’t think she’d ever get used to.

Men were rushing everywhere. Tearing down tents. Packing their belongings. They didn’t notice her. Or if they did, they were too busy to care. The army was disbanding, fleeing for their lives. Sweet Mary, how could this have happened?

Finally, she caught sight of Edward Bruce. She didn’t much like Robert’s younger brother. Quick-tempered, volatile, and arrogant, Sir Edward was nearly his brother’s equal on the battlefield, but he lacked Robert’s gallantry and natural chivalry.