After so much time away, it felt good to relax in the King’s chamber as he so often had. Patrick leaned back in the chair, stretched out his legs, and waved a hand. “His defeat couldnae have been more complete.”
A laugh burst from James’s mouth, as sudden and loud as a shot from a bombard. He laughed until he had to bend over, hand on his knees, to catch his breath. When he could speak, he said, “That is the first arrow broken.”
“He is still free and within his own castle. But I dinnae see how he can be a threat now. And Huntly was pleased to have permission to fly your banner. Aye, he would have fought Crawford regardless, but it left no doubt where his loyalty lies.”
“Huntly has my permission to harry Earl Beardie as much as possible. That will keep him out of our affairs until we have time to settle with him.” The King poured a cup of wine and took a deep breath. “It is a victory I desperately needed. Patrick, I owe you a great debt.”
Patrick cocked his head. “I ken of one thing that would please me if you would.” When James lifted an eyebrow in inquiry, Patrick continued, “My father is seeking permission to build a castle at his estate of Longforgan in the carse of Gowrie. He would like to strengthen his tower house there.” Patrick smiled wryly. “It would please my lord father as well as increase my patrimony.”
“You ken how highly I value your father. At the parliament, I intend to make him Master of my Household. I shall speak to Turnbull about a castle as well.”
Voices raised in the corridor brought Patrick to his feet.
“Nae,” someone yelled. “I brought the news. I have the right to take it to the King myself!”
Patrick strode to the door and threw it open. “What is to do?”
A young man no more than twenty, tall and muscular, wearing a dusty brigandine, sweaty hair stuck to his forehead, was defiantly facing Giles. The lad turned to Patrick and said, “I rode from Saint Andrew’s with news for the King. I have the right to tell him myself!”
James stepped past Patrick. “Here I am. Tell me then.”
He threw himself on one knee at the King’s feet. “The lady Queen. She gave birth. A wee lad they say. So, I jumped on my horse and rode here as fast as I could.”
“A lad?” James’s eyes gleamed. “And he lives?”
Laughing, the lad said, “Yelling fit to bring the castle down, Your Grace. Brawny lungs he has, for a fact.”
“A son!” James’s face split into a grin. He made a fist and punched into the air. “A son!”
For this one time only, Patrick slapped the King’s shoulder. “It must be announced. You have an heir!”
“And the Queen, lad? She bides well?”
“Aye, so her ladies said. So, I rode here to bring you the news.”
“What is your name?” James asked.
“Rabby Norrie, if it please Your Grace.”
James grinned. “It pleases me most highly, Rabby Norrie. And I shall see you well rewarded for bringing me this braw news.”