The road skirted the Pentland Hills and ran past the edge of the vast Ettrick Forest. The clear water of the River Forth went straight as a strong, thick spear at the Firth of Forth, where it broadened to meet the sea. Beyond, azure waters stretched to the misty horizon. In the opposite direction rose the craggy Pentland Hills. Visible for miles, the enormous, sheer-sided Castle Rock thrust high above the burgh. On it stood the huge, stone Edinburgh Castle. The huge gray lion-shaped outcrop of Arthur’s Seat loomed to my right.
Edinburgh had long since spilled beyond its walls, so we rode through a suburb of small withy-built cots with thatched roofs to reach the port. Snow lightly dusted the ground. We passed one that had an ale bush hanging beside the door, signaling that the woman of the house had freshly brewed ale for sale, and there was a sound of drunken singing. A mangy mutt followed at our heels, barking, and some ragged lads were kicking a ball. One lucky enough to catch it disappeared under a pile of flailing, kicking bodies fighting for possession.
Earthen ramparts surrounded the city proper, topped by a high stone palisade. Archers stood between the merlons, so at least the Stewart had the burgh defended even though he had not defended his King. Where the palisade met the road, the twin towers of Netherbow Port guarded the open gate. The driver on a wain piled with faggots dropped coins into the hand of one of the hard-looking guards and trundled through. Before we reached the port, I turned onto the road to the east. On a loose rein, we ambled past the suburb and into the wooded park surrounding Holyrood Abbey. Bells began to toll for midday prayers, and the high twin towers of Holyrood Abbey poked above the bare treetops.
“Remember that inn we went to when we were here?” Riding on my right, Will motioned where the road turned south. “It is nae far from the abbey.”
I smiled. That had been the night I reached manhood. “Aye. The Sheep Heid Inn, it was called.”
“I mind that would be a good place to bide.”
Gil’s face split in a wide grin. “Do bawds bide there too?”
“Och.” Will chuckled. “Aye, they do.”
“It had good ale and fresh mutton head stewed with onions last time I was there,” Duncan said. “And nae fleas in the paillasses. So, I am for it.”
A rapid chorus of ‘Aye’ followed, and it sounded like a good plan to me as well. We had earned it. “I must call on my uncle at the abbey. Will and I shall find you there afterward.”
I split off with Will to the road toward the high walls of Holyrood Abbey. Though looted several times, it remained one of the points of pride of Scotland. Two hundred years before, King David, the first of that name, had given canons every wealth needed to establish a fine abbey that would demonstrate his devotion to the pope and the kirk.
A bell clanged in a watchtower next to the broad gate, and a voice shouted, “In view.” After a moment, they opened the gate. Black tunic flapping about his legs and shoulder cape and long, pointed hood billowing behind him, a canon was hurrying across the broad wintery garden, most of the plantings sheathed with snow. l unbuckled my swordbelt and hung it from my pommel before I rode into the abbey grounds and dismounted as Will joined me.
The porter, a stocky lay brother with ears that stuck out, stepped aside.
An older monk panted up. “Blessings on you, sirs.”
“And you, brother.” I gave a courteous nod. “I am seeking my uncle, Hugh de Douglas. I understand he bides here.”
His gray eyebrows rose. “Father Hugh does, sir.” He blinked, something obviously surprising him, although he did not let on what. “I am the guestmaster. If you will follow me, I will take you to him.” We handed our horses to a groom, and the monk led us past the large kirk with its impressive towers along a path that had been swept of snow. I expected that we would go to the guesthouse, but instead, he led us to a handsome stone-built house that he said was the abbot’s house. He allowed me to enter before him when we were admitted to his knock.
I blinked in the dim light. Across the room, two men were speaking. Another in an Augustinian tunic sat in a high-backed chair.
“Archie!” Hugh moved the second man out of the way with a friendly pat on the shoulder. My uncle, the last living of my father’s brothers, was nearly as tall as I, with a round face, a comfortable paunch under his tunic, and a kind face with dark, graying hair around his tonsure.
I grinned and bound across the room to be wrapped in Hugh’s big hug. Pushing him back by his shoulders, I looked him up and down. “You look well.”
“As do you, Archie. I was so relieved when I heard you escaped the battle unharmed. And you as well, Will.” His mouth turned down. “But I have sad news, I think you willnae have heard. Sir John, our cousin, is dead. I ken you were fond of him.”
“How?” I exclaimed.
“Killed.” He crossed himself. “By Sir David Barclay. I dinnae ken the details, except that he is dead.”
I blinked, trying to take in the news.
When the dark, saturnine man beside him made an annoyed sound in his throat, my uncle turned to him. “William, you must recall Archie.” He turned to the seated monk. “Abbot Thomas, my nephew Sir Archibald.”
After bowing to the abbot, I turned to my cousin, whose father, another of my own father’s brothers, I had been named for. William had always been cool and distant when we were in exile in France, but he was eight years older than I was. Young men in their late teens rarely had time for young lads.
He had grown since I last saw him, yet was not over much changed. The look he cast me was remote as ever. He was a well-built man, half a head shorter than I, with neatly trimmed brown hair and beard, and dark eyes that took my measure as if presented with a dish that smelled off. He was dressed in a short, tightly fitted scarlet tunic with a fur collar, the height of fashion in France, no doubt, and ankle boots with no knight’s spurs. His large hands, planted on his hips, bore several substantial gold rings. He had been Lord of Douglas since my uncle had resigned the title four years ago, so I gave him a courteous obeisance.
“Aye. Of course, I recall him.” He turned the back of his shoulder to me, extending a hand to Will. “Ramsay! A pleasure. I was hoping to speak with you about joining my following.” His Scots had a nasal accent from his many years living in France. “I have heard that you have been defending my lands in Lothian.”
Will opened his mouth, closed it, cut his eyes toward me, and said, “You honor me, my lord. Archie and I have had some small successes fighting in Lothian.”
“Small successes can be built on, and that I intend to do. David Lindsay of Crawford has agreed to give me his support—and will supply me with men.”
“That…” Poor Will’s face reddened, and he once more looked from me to the Lord of Douglas. “That is braw to hear, my lord.”
Hugh patted my shoulder. “Nephew, I am sure Archie shall fight as hard for you as he did for Sir William. His prowess was what saved me when we attacked Roxburgh Castle. And Will is nae doubt a fierce fighter, as was his father. With them and their men and Lindsay’s, the English will learn what a mistake they have made.”
The Douglas tilted his head back so he could look down his nose at me, and I had to bite back a smile at being taller than him. He nodded still with no smile. “Aye, of course, uncle. Archie is welcome in my following as well.”
I bent my head. “Thank you, my lord. I will be honored to fight for you against the English.” At least, we would be fighting, and I had no doubt many would rise to his call. That was what mattered, not his less-than-friendly welcome, even though it did sting.
He sniffed. “Why Hugh added you to the entail, I cannae understand, but make sure that you never mistake that means that it raises you above my other followers.”
“William,” Hugh said in a reproachful tone.
“Our uncle has always shown me great kindness, my lord. Believe me, I take it as nae more than that. And I am grateful that he recognized me as kin.” Hugh was my father’s last living brother. All his brothers had died in the war, but as the youngest child, he was sent to be a cleric. Some clerics were warlike, but Hugh was not one of them. In the war against England, the Lord of Douglas had a duty to fight. So, at last, he resigned the lordship of Douglas to my cousin, and he had added my name to the entail, making me the heir should all the other males in the Douglas line die. Adding a bastard had shocked everyone, including me.
“Everything has changed. With Sir William a captive—” My uncle fidgeted and slid his hands into his wide sleeves. “—this is the time for the Lord of Douglas to return to claim his own birthright. And Archie, I want you to do everything you can to aid him in that.”
I blinked. “He is nae likely to need my aid, surely.”
Douglas cleared his throat. “You underestimate me, uncle.”
“It is you who must not underestimate Liddesdale’s power below the Forth. He had decades to build it, and being captured by the English has nae destroyed his power. It is weakened without him here, but if you underestimate him, you shall live to rue it. I ken him and his determination to hold on to the Douglas lands well. Even if it means murder.”
Will choked out, “Sirs…” His face had turned red, and he was rubbing the back of his neck.
“Och, Will,” Hugh said. “Forgive me. I would have waited to discuss this, but I must be sure it is understood how dangerous Liddesdale is, even now.”
My cousin clasped his hands loosely behind his back. “I ken that he murdered your father, Ramsay. I am sorry you are dragged into this talk. My uncle feared from the first that Liddesdale would plot against me. Before he resigned the lordship to me, I had no power at all for protection. And after, if I tried to claim my rightful lands that he controlled for so long, he would nae have let them go without a fight. I am sure of that. It would have been a fight I was in no position to win.”
I had wondered why Douglas had not returned, but I never suspected our uncle had argued against it. “I probably ken Sir William as well as almost any man alive except his brothers and…” I tugged my earlobe as I thought this over. Sir William had controlled all the Douglas lands, which took up much of both Lothian and Lanark while Hugh was Lord of Douglas and after when Hugh resigned the title to my cousin while he was in France. Sir William had murdered Andrew Ramsay for taking even part of those lands as a gift from the King. “Uncle, you think he forced you to transfer the lordship so he could—” I rocked back on my heels, studying the rug on the floor. Sir William was the Lord of Douglas’s heir until Douglas had a son, but killing your own kin was monstrous. He would never murder his own cousin. Carefully hiding my anger at the insult, I said in a controlled tone, “I do nae believe that. Sir William would never kill kin.”
“I may have wronged him,” Hugh said, clearly not believing his words. “His loyalty to family is strong, but that is to his brothers. And the cost would have been too great if I was right. Of course, you are loyal to him, Archie. That is admirable, but it blinds you to what he is.”
“I am nae coward.” He squinted into the distance. “I like fighting as much as any man. I am also nae fool. I wasnae going to walk into a trap. Now I have time to build my power, and it will be Liddesdale who walks into a trap if he challenges me.”
I had not thought of being caught in a war between the two men. When Sir William returned, hopefully, so would the King. I hoped the King might still want me as one of his household knights, but as long as he and Sir William were prisoners in England, the Lord of Douglas had a right to my service. “He treated me well, as he would any cousin. No, better than that. He treated me near enough to a son, though he was nae more pleased than you, my lord, when I was added to the entail. But you are the rightful Lord of Douglas. You have a right to my service.”
A corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. “Make sure you do nae forget that.”
“If my sword may be useful to you, it is yours.”
He turned to Will. “Bring these companions to me on the morrow. I want to see them. You may lead them to form my tail when I ride for Douglasdale.”
“As you will, my lord.”
I let out my breath. This would not be easy, but then truly, little was that I had seen. At least, the newly returned the Lord of Douglas intended to fight. So I would fight for him. I squeezed Hugh’s arm. “I shall see you before we leave.”
After giving the three men a slight obeisance, we strode to the stable and rode toward the inn where we were to meet our companions in arms, but Will was silent with a thoughtful frown. “Why would he name me to lead his tail when you are his cousin? That is very strange.”
I pursed my lips and tilted my head as I tried to understand that myself. “He disliked me from when we were lads. I dinnae ken why. But what can I do but make the best of it? I heard he was winning tourneys in France, so at least he should ken which end of a sword is pointed.”
“It isnae fair that he is giving me preferment.”
I laughed. “Would it be fair if he gave me preferment because we are cousins?”
“Dinnae be glaikit. Of course, his lordship—” He said the title with heavy sarcasm. “—should show preferment to his ilk before friends. Especially as braw a knight as you.” He frowned, twisting his mouth. “He wore no gold spurs. Did you notice?”
I blinked. “I thought nothing of it, but no one said he had been knighted.” He had dressed to show his status and would have worn gold spurs had he had the right. That I had no doubt of.
“That may be it. Anyroad, I would never have escaped the battlefield except for you, and I dinnae think anyone else could have done it.”
I winced at his exaggeration but decided to ignore it. “He is what he is. And he is the Lord of Douglas. I have nae problem with you leading.” I winked, “But for now, let us see what they have at the tavern. We cannae let Gil have all the bawds. Or the ale.”