Page 4 of Fearless Heart
“I must be off.” Heath turned but Angus stopped him.
“My clansmen left me here to burn in the morn sun. I’ll wring their necks bloody when I catch up to them. I owe ye, friend. If ever I can repay you for saving me, you only have to name the price.” Angus reached for his garments and stomped off into the high brush.
Heath mounted his horse and laughed for Angus’ bare arse was his last view of the man. What’s more, the man was a hulking beast of a giant, covered with dark hair on most of his body. He resembled a boar and kind of reminded him of his uncle Andrew. A thought occurred to him, and Heath chortled, for he more reminded him of a bear, a great bulky, hair covered, and smelly bear.
With his redemption of the Sinclair, there was only one thing he needed to do before he rejoined his comrades. Heath lifted his foot and untied the tassel and removed a string. It was one less killing he needed to account for. After retying the tassel, he held the strings in his fingers, hoping to one day remove them all.
They set off again and reached the festival by midmorning the next day. As they approached the grounds, Heath peered ahead and noted the many flags and banners that flew atop the tents that littered the vast pastures. Smoke wafted from the countless cooking fires, and the scent of various animals roasting permeated the air. It was enough to make him nauseous. His view returned to the revelers and he lowered his chin.
Too many eyes and ears abounded over the grounds at the king’s autumn festival. Heath rode beside Brodin, quietly assessing those around him. With the hood of his cloak pulled down low, a shadow darkened his face. His clan was an ally of the Hunter Clan, and he well known by many. He couldn’t chance being recognized, for it might lead him to the executioner’s ax or the hangman’s noose, neither of which appealed.
Unfortunately they couldn’t cover themselves with the soot and oil they usually used when they traveled outside of their domain. Graeme’s grandfather spoke of an ancient warrior clan who used the tactic of covering themselves to hide from their enemies. The concealment aided them and kept them from being recognized on numerous occasions. Only now that they traveled to the festival, they couldn’t attend covered as though they were going into battle. It would be more of a hindrance than a help. Still, Heath detested being exposed to all those who would view him.
“Do you deem the king will actually come? You’d think with his prior meeting with parliament, he’d be too busy to attend such events.” Brodin sidled next to him and had been quiet until now.
“He risks his safety by coming here. Mayhap we should keep watch if he shows. He might need our protection.” Heath slowed his mount and moved closer to his comrade, lest they be heard for ears were ripe for any word of the king regardless of its implication. When they received news that the king met with parliament, they were relieved. The king made tremendous progress is retaking Scotland. Robert’s progress with the country aided them because they were one step closer in their desire to leave off and return to their homes.
“We’re far south. I would deem he wouldn’t want to travel this far below Stirling. Even with King Edward’s death, we have yet to discern what his son will do. Most of the English have abandoned the northern lands.” Brodin sat lax upon his horse, unaffected by the many around them. His carelessness often was a thorn of contention between the guardsmen, mostly because he thought himself indomitable.
Heath nudged his horse toward the corral that was set up for visitors. “He’s taken back most of the lands north of the Tay. Surely that will aid in his retaking the southern lands.”
“Mayhap, and with James’ aid, it shouldn’t be too difficult. One look from him and the English will flee for their lives.” Liam chuckled at his jest, but really it wasn’t much of a quip. Most feared James Douglas since his ambushes were legendary; the warrior was relentless in all manner of pursuits.
Heath grinned because James was indeed formidable enough to retake many a besieged fortification, and without much effort. Additionally, their comrade was brash and unreasonable effectuating a terror to those he opposed. James was one hell of a battle weapon himself. “Robert should still guard his safety even with James’ assistance.”
Brodin dismounted his horse and led the steed by the reins. “Let us rest the horses and get on with this task. Damned blighter best be found quickly.”
Heath sighed at the mission. “Aye, let us find the troublesome lad before his neck ends up in a noose. I cannot believe he went astray again.”
Graeme maintained a low tone, “I tire of his foolery. I’m resigned to let him fend on his own even if we must relocate.”
He agreed, but they needed to find him. “He’s in as much peril as we if he’s found. And before the king calls for his execution, he’ll be tortured. Gilroy would babble akin to a fast moving brook, for he’d have no choice.” Heath shook his head at the thought, for the lad would surely give away their location under duress. There was no time to relocate to another area. They wereallin a dire situation. Gilroy needed to be found at the soonest–at least before he was spotted by the king.
With the autumn festival at the height of attendance, many traveled afar to Hunter’s lands. Heath tended to his horse and kept watch for anyone he knew. He didn’t want to be recognized, for eyes cast everywhere. The Hunters were a friendly clan to his, and he knew the laird, his wife, and children, and had grown up with the two eldest sons. Laird Hunter and his father allied many years before and since became close friends.
Of their five children, his favorite was the only girl. Lillia. Last time he’d seen her, she was up to her knees in a bog and begging for his aid. If only he’d used caution, because the lass was intent to have him covered in muck too, and he landed face-first in the bog. He grinned at the remembrance, for her brothers often played tricks on her, and she on him.
“What has you grinning?” Brodin finished tending to his horse and awaited him.
He patted his warhorse’s neck and couldn’t cease the smile that came upon him. “Nothing but frivolous pondering. Thinking about my past.”
“It must be a pleasant memory for I’ve never seen you smile so. Has it to do with a woman?”
“Cease this nonsense and let us onward to find Gilroy,” Graeme said, and led the way toward the makeshift village.
He was gladdened at not having to answer Brodin. Heath kept his life private as much as he could and only told his comrades bits of his life before his service to the Bruce. “There are many here, it could take a wee bit to find him. I’ll wager the coin I find him first.” He held out the coin they used in wager. The ancient coin was brought back from the crusades by their comrade, Graeme’s grandfather, and a remarkable tale told of its use. Laird Cameron used the coin to bring together two rival clans. In doing so, they defeated the enemy forces.
Graeme often told stories of his grandfather’s fetes. He used the coin to bring them together in comradery, and yet even without the coin, they would have stuck by one another. Especially given they were exiled together and now secretly aided the king. The most intriguing of the tales were that of the Knights Templar. Heath was captivated by their duty and honor and swore one day to become one of the notorious order. He’d give his life to the faith, as he’d always wanted.
Heath left the corral and ambled next to his comrades. Someone dashed at them, a young lad, and he kept coming. He held out his hand and stopped the lad from running into them. The lad almost fell backward, but righted himself.
“Whoa there, lad. Where ye be off to in such a hurry?”
The lad tried to break free of his hold, but Heath held firm.
“I was told to give you this.” He shoved a parchment in his hand and jerked his arm free.
Before Heath could ask him who sent the message, the lad fled.