Page 11 of Bride Takes a Charmer
Across the stone trestle bridge sat the gatehouse where two guards stood watch. Towers flanked the gatehouse, and beyond it, the castle itself rose in the air where battlements afforded balistrarias where men would position themselves to defend the fortress with efficient arrows. Atop the highest turret, a lone pennon flapped in the breeze with the king’s emblem stitched in;it was an image of a red lion and had been created by Alexander’s father, the previous king.
Shaw hadn’t visited his king much since the year of Alexander’s marriage, and only once thereafter so that he could swear his fealty to him after he was proclaimed the heir to the throne. Then, he’d been at the king’s side. Shaw had not been much older than a lad then, but he was the king’s trusted confidant and an effective sparring partner. They’d practiced arms for days on end until Alexander perfected his swordsmanship. Now years later, Shaw wondered if their relations put him in an affable position or at a disadvantage. Unsure of Alexander’s regard, he’d be wary.
“Mackintosh!” a man shouted from inside the postern. He shoved his way past one of the guardsmen and clasped his arm in welcome.
Shaw instantly recognized the king’s man. “Edmund, ’tis good to see ye.”
“And you, my friend. Have not seen you for a long time…too long. Alexander will be pleased as well to see you. He has asked several times already if you have yet arrived. I’ll take you to see him at once. Follow me. Your servant can settle the horses in the stables yonder.”
“He is not my—”
Edmund didn’t give him a chance to explain Walen’s relation to him but hastened away.
“I should go and meet with Alexander. If ye’ll settle my horse. I will return after my meeting and hopefully, we can be on our way,” he told Walen apologetically.
Walen grinned as he bowed. “I am but your humble servant, Laird. Go on then. I’ll probably go to the nearest tavern. Ye shall find me there.” He bellowed with laughter as he strode away.
Shaw hurried forward to trail Edmund. The man moved quickly, as stout and burly as he was. A maze of hallways led to a paneled door where finally, Edmund halted.
“Before you go inside, I should warn you that the king only desires your acceptance of what he has to tell you, so be patient with him.” Edmund pushed at the door handle and shoved the door open. “I’ll have our great king fetched.”
He wondered what Edmund meant byacceptance, but the man fled before he could ask. Shaw stepped through the threshold and stood in the center of the floor. Before him sat a table with a plush chair where the king probably sat. Situated nearby were smaller tables and a few chairs. On one side of the room, a small hearth was set with fire and its warmth reached the corners of the chamber. His gaze roved the space until it fell on the young page who stood and watched him as if he awaited direction.
“Wish ye a drink, Milord?” the lad sprang to attention, ready to serve him.
“Nay, my thanks though.” Shaw ambled forward and peered through the large window that afforded a view of the courtyard. When the door panel creaked, he turned and spotted Alexander entering. He bowed.
When he straightened, the king spoke not a word. Instead, he motioned to the page who hurriedly exited the room. Alexander’s red hair shone brightly as the light filtered into the room from the window. He hadn’t changed much, in Shaw’s estimation. Even now, he behaved as he had when they were younger. Alexander passed him and reached a table laden with a jug of some kind of drink and various breads and cheeses. He poured himself a drink and lifted it. “Drink?”
Shaw shook his head. “Nay, Sire. Thank you.”
Alexander drank deeply, draining the cup of its contents before placing it back on the table. Then he strolled toward himand pulled him into a brotherly embrace before pushing him back. “Lord, ’tis good to see you, Shaw. It has been some time since we parted, too long since I have laid eyes on you.”
“It has. Milady Margaret, does she fare well?” Shaw purposely asked about the queen, knowing how the king had worried for the queen’s health when she’d first arrived in Edinburgh. His king had stated that his betrothed wouldn’t last long in the wilds of Scotland and that her tender English salubrity might not withstand the cold clime or rugged lands.
“She does well and is expecting our bairn.”
Shaw smiled and bowed his head to his king. “Felicitations, Sire, on the upcoming birth of your bairn.”
“Come, sit with me for I have much to discuss with you.” The king moved to his plush chair.
He waited until the king sat and then sat in the chair across the table. “What is it ye wish to discuss, Sire?”
Alexander smiled and leaned back in his seat. “God, ’tis good to see you. I have missed you, Shaw, and have asked after you. Edmund has assured me that your clan prospers, there in the wild north.”
“Aye, Sire, we do well enough. Though we are much smaller than most of the clans that surround us, we do our best to stay clear of scuffles.”
“With those damnable Chattans, I presume… I know they are unfavorable relatives of yours. How do you get along with them?” Alexander grabbed hold of the pitcher in front of him and reached for cups on the table nearest to him. He poured a drink for himself, and a cup for him and pushed the cup across the wooden surface of the table.
“We get on, och ’tis the truth, I try to stay out of their affairs. I tire of their petty fracases with the Cameron Clan. Though I fear I might have to eventually take a side.”
Alexander nodded. “True enough. You have my support if ever you should need it.”
“Is that why ye have called me to Edinburgh?” Shaw took a small sip of the drink his king offered. The ale was crisp and cool on his tongue.
“Nay, there are other matters that I need to speak with you about… though I am hesitant to speak of them…which is why I sent my attendants away. I wish to discuss this in private.”
“Sire, I have always and will continue to support ye. Whatever ye need, I am your servant.” Shaw bowed his head and suspected whatever Alexander wanted of him might prove difficult.