“My thanks, sire,” Sebastien said, nodding at the Bruce.
“I still do not comprehend why you would want their custody. From what I have seen and heard, both from you and from her father, controlling your new wife will be task enough for you.”
Had the king read his thoughts? Sebastien met Bruce’s gaze and saw the teasing within it. Robert did not take Lorne’s daughter seriously, but Sebastien would not make that same mistake. After speaking to most of the prisoners and those servants who remained behind, he knew that Lara MacDougall had managed the castle in her father’s stead many times. She knew the defenses, the provisions, the number of soldiers needed to hold it and how long it could stand under siege.
“Is that why you gave her to me? A challenge to keep me busy while you have fun cavorting all over Scotland?”
Surely the king knew he would chafe under these new restrictions, staying here instead of being in Robert’s vanguard of warriors during the important campaigns of the next months and year. The battles they faced, to claim the west of Scotland, while the Bruce’s allies took and held the east, would determine the fate of them all. And staying here, tied in one place, was not how Sebastien saw himself and his battle skills being best used.
“It is imperative that this castle and this coast be held, Sebastien. I can trust very few to see to that. I know you view this as some kind of limitation, but you have my utmost confidence in this.”
When said thusly, how could he argue or secondguess the king? Knowing when to hold his tongue, he simply nodded once more and watched the Bruce dismount. Sebastien had won the argument he’d wanted to this day—the children would remain. Accepting that it would be the only one, he nodded in agreement.
“I also need you to make arrangements for the gathering at Kilcrenan next week,” Robert said quietly. He looked from side to side to make certain his words could not be heard, then he continued, “I need the counsel of all of my best men before embarking on what I hope is the final campaign to take Scotland back from our enemies.”
“I understand, sire,” Sebastien answered.
Robert had chosen a village to the south as the site of his “parliament,” where his nobles would plan the next offensives. Its location was a secret closely guarded by a very few. If the Bruce’s enemies knew of it, it could be devastating to those who fought for him.
“Well, you had best return to the castle,” the king said, walking to him and extending his arm. Sebastien leaned over the horse’s side and returned the gesture.
“I still think you should stay in Dunstaffnage, Sire. ‘Twould be safer for you than out in the open.” Sebastien surveyed the area around the camp. He supposed that the king was safe as long as he was surrounded by his army.
“Sebastien,” the Bruce said as he leaned closer. “You must exert yourself there, and my presence will interfere with that. Make that place and those people yours, so that none can doubt you.”
On the face of it, it sounded much like a warning about his men, and even about the MacDougalls who remained behind. But Sebastien knew better. Questions had been raised about his position within the hierarchy of the Bruce’s forces. There was always some nobleman who felt slighted by the rewards or the rank given to Sebastien, or the esteem in which the king held him. Although Sebastien knew that every honor had been earned with the sweat and blood of him or his men, others chose to think differently. When adversity should have united them, it turned small cracks of jealousy and intrigue into major crevasses of greed and mistrust.
“As you wish, sire,” he replied, bowing his head.
“Go now, Sebastien. A newly wedded man should not tarry long.”
Thoughts jumbled together in his mind at the king’s words. He certainly did not feel wedded, or at least not the way he’d always thought he would feel when married. He’d believed that when Scotland was in the hands of the Bruce, he would settle down with a quiet girl and have a home and bairns. If the king gave him some manor or lands…well, Sebastien had never thought of or craved something as grand or as important as Dunstaffnage.
Now, he held that castle and the enemy’s daughter in his grasp, and faced challenges he’d never dreamt of. The weariness, unnoticed before, crept up on him now. He’d not slept the previous night, handling all sorts of duties and details, and now the lack of rest weighed him down.
After watching the king safely enter his tent, Sebastien turned his mount and began the short ride back to the castle. A small part of him wondered about the woman waiting there. Amidst all the bloodshed and war, she stood out in his thoughts like the first blossom of spring, somehow fresh and untouched by the coldness surrounding it. When he remembered her expression as her father had denounced her, and then her strength as she’d pulled herself under control, he knew she would survive whatever came her way.
For the first time since he began fighting in the Bruce’s cause, Sebastien allowed himself to think on what it could be like with a home and a wife. After years of killing and watching comrades die, after marching endlessly from one end of Scotland to the other, after facing odds that foretold their defeat and death, he permitted a small dream to take hold in his heart.
He and the Maid of Lorne were wed in name and deed. Could it not be in truth? Many other women were joined against their wills, to seal bargains, so theirs was not so unusual a beginning. They were from different sides of this conflict, but again, that was not so different from other unions. Coming from the Lowlands, he did not have a clan, as she did. His father did not even know of Sebastien’s existence, but others like himself had risen in importance to found their own dynasties.
He reached up and wiped the exhaustion from his face. His small troop rode over the last hill and approached Dunstaffnage Castle from the south. Its rugged stone walls and jagged appearance against the clear August sky declared that it would stand long after he was dead and buried. He only prayed that Scotland would stand as long as the walls of Dunstaffnage.
Chapter Five
Within the space of a day, Dunstaffnage was an armed camp. As the home of the MacDougalls, it had always been filled with warriors and battle plans, but now it was an enemy camp. Lara watched for most of the afternoon as soldiers poured in and out of the gates, carrying all sorts of provisions and weapons into the yard and keep.
After her humiliation this morning and Sebastien’s departure, she felt safer staying in her chambers in the north tower. She could observe all who came and went, but did not have to face them. Knowing it was simply a temporary reprieve, she took what it offered her.
“My lady?” Margaret’s worried voice accompanied the knock on her door. “My lady, he…”
“I cannot hear you, Margaret.” Not hearing her words clearly, Lara walked to the door and tugged on it. Expecting to find her maid, instead she faced the armor-covered chest of her new husband.
“She is warning you that I am on my way here.”
Blunt, if nothing else, he stood before her, helm under his arm, much like the first time she’d looked upon his face. Could it have been just a day ago? Margaret stood a little distance away, worry etched on her features. Lara stepped back and opened the door. Better to meet the devil head-on, if you had to meet him.
“Come in, sir.”
The frown he gifted
