Page 126 of Laird of Steel
Gellir bit out an oath.
“Some o’ them lost a good deal o’ land to the Sassenachs,” Robert muttered.
“So I can’t say I blame them,” Walter added.
Robert declined to comment further, taking a swig of ale instead.
Gellir rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “Earls against the king. ’Twill divide Scotland.”
“Pah!” Walter said. “No more than giving half o’ her to the English will.”
“What are their demands?” Gellir asked.
“They want their lands back, I wager,” Robert said.
“Aye,” said Walter.
Gellir took a thoughtful sip of his ale. That was a coil. He understood the earls’ discontent. He even concurred with their demands. Like Rivenloch, some of their lands had belonged to the clans from the time of the Vikings and before.
But Gellir was a vassal to the king. He’d sworn an oath of loyalty to Malcolm.
His brow furrowed as he remembered the other oath he’d sworn. The one he’d broken. The one to wed Lady Carenza. That sin stained his soul like rust on chain mail.
Still, a warrior didn’t toss away his armor simply because it was tarnished. It was up to him to repair it, polish it, and set it to rights so it could be useful again.
Was this his chance to redeem himself? To prove to King Malcolm the undying loyalty of the Rivenloch clan? If he challenged these earls in the name of the king, would it erase his past dishonor?
The effort might cost him his life. It seemed inevitable, considering he’d be brandishing his blade against several powerful earls.
But if his life was the price of his clan’s honor, he would gladly pay it.
An hour later, as he bedded down in the rushes before the banked fire, he felt alive for the first time in days. He had purpose now. He was going to defend his king.
Perhaps he wasn’t destiny’s foe after all.
Perhaps fate had smiled on him.
“Something’s not right,” Adam murmured. His warm breath added fog to the frosty morning mist.
Merraid huddled beside him in the hawthorn near Perth Castle. They couldn’t get too close. The motte-and-bailey castle was surrounded by a wide treeless expanse. Though such a keep was fortified by a courtyard wall, a deep ditch, and a wooden palisade, the cleared land made it easy for guards to spot attackers long before they drew near.
But at the moment, the grassy slope below Perth was filled with pavilions and soldiers.
“Is it a tournament?” Merraid asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Perhaps a celebration o’ the king’s return?” she asked with heavy sarcasm.
“I fear not. Indeed…”
“What?”
“Let’s take a closer look.”
They crept through the fog and between the pavilions. Men-at-arms, horses, archers, and servants drifted in and out of the mist like fish swimming in a murky firth. Everyone was busy, but Merraid could only pick out snippets of conversation about supplies and weapons.
They gradually circled the entire expanse, passing by all the pavilions so Adam could identify the clan banners.
