held Mairead closer and brought her arms and legs into the warmth of his cloak. ‘Nae, not her; not the thief either.’
‘A clan?’
‘Too many people. Our clans fight. It would have been put to use.’
‘To create kings,’ Malcolm said.
‘More like to declare one true king.’
Malcolm’s horse suddenly stopped and Caird steadied his own.
Caird could not doubt Malcolm’s shock. Scotland no longer had the ability to make kings. The Stone of Scone now supported the rears of English kings.
He was surprised it had not cracked with grief.
Was it truly so much of a surprise that the jewel appeared now? This year had churned up too many conflicting and powerful emotions. Hope for freedom then crushing defeat as nobles, churchmen, burgesses and freeholders swore fealty to an English king. Balliol was even forced to the Tower.
Worse, their defeat was made official since King Edward recorded it on his Ragman Rolls.
Malcolm slowly turned his gaze. Fear and concern were never on his brother’s face, but there was no mistaking those emotions now.
This was more than a secret. More than a costly dagger and legendary jewel. This was more than he wished to be involved with, let alone to involve his brother and clan. King Edward ruled Scotland now, and Caird held the jewel with the power to make Scottish kings.
‘Aye, I’m speaking treason,’ Caird whispered. ‘To my brother.’
‘It must stay with your brother and go nae further.’
‘If this is true, it will go to all our brothers. All our family.’ His clan had enough worries now. Bram, his laird and brother, hadn’t participated in Dunbar and no one knew why. It had put their clan’s loyalty in question.
If his enquiries into the jewel took long, his clan would be in danger. Still, if he got the answers he needed, if they could keep the jewel a secret. If they could build the momentum behind it before the English were prepared—
‘You can’t mean to use it?’ Malcolm asked. ‘It’s too dangerous!’
Caird shrugged. Even as his heart swelled at the possibilities, his mind feared the consequences. With war between the two countries, whoever possessed the jewel could stop it. ‘Nae more than Dunbar,’ Caird said.
‘Aye, a thousand times more dangerous!’ Malcolm retorted.
If he could, Caird would stop the war. ‘Why not use any means I have, especially when it’s just been handed to me?’
‘Dunbar was a mistake,’ Malcolm said. ‘It shouldn’t have happened.’
Caird conveyed in one glance everything he felt about that fateful battle. ‘Nae, it shouldn’t.’
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t look away. ‘I owe you much, but I cannot allow this risk!’
Treason was the risk. But it was treason only if he wanted one side to win from the other. He had different plans.
The jewel could protect their clan. They’d have Scottish power and the English would want that jewel. It was like a doubled-edged sword, and razor-sharp. Yet, if they played it right, he could save all. He just wanted the conflict and bloodshed to end.
‘I will not risk much,’ Caird said.
Malcolm gaze strayed. ‘I cannot accept this. Maybe it is Mairead’s?’
If only that were true. She had acted sincere, but he knew what his brother did not. She was a Buchanan. None of what she had said could be true.
‘Do you believe that?’ Caird asked instead.
Malcolm shook his head. ‘Nae, but it would be easier if this was an ordinary, albeit valuable stone.’
Caird urged his horse forward again. He heard his cousins in the woods. They would emerge soon and would wonder at their delay. ‘It may be easy to find the thief.’ The thief might even be trying to find them.
Malcolm caught up. ‘If we cannot find him?’
‘We continue celebrating and go to the games.’
They needed to act like nothing was amiss. Caird thought to flush the thief out before then, but that was just the first step.
Ultimately, he knew what they’d have to do. They needed to go to Mairead’s family and her clan. She’d said the jewel was her brother’s. If that was true, he needed to understand how her brother had possession of the dagger.
Tracing the true owners of the jewel would be slow and arduous, whilst all the time unknown enemies could be circling. However, he was left with little option. He had to get answers first, understand who was moving it and why. If the jewel was a double-edged sword, he had to know how to wield it. Once he had all the answers, he would go to Bram, his brother and laird, and discuss with the council the jewel’s future.
Even that wouldn’t be easy.
Bram was not on Colquhoun land, but far south on Fergusson land, which was close to the English borders. It was too dangerous to bring the jewel there during this time. Dangerous, but perhaps necessary.
Although he sought answers to determine the best course of action, he would not presume the fate of the jewel alone. He had to involve the clan and its laird.
In the meantime, there was camp to set, food to eat and their absence to explain to his cousins.
This was no time to tell his brother the other, much more precarious, situation they were embroiled in. And the risk didn’t come from the treasonous jewel they carried, but from the traitorous Buchanan in his arms.
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