Page 65 of The Hawk Laird
“This view extends for miles.” He pointed with his free hand. “Over there are the Border hills, round and green and gold. There”—he indicated a meandering river—“is the Yarrow Water, which flows toward the Ettrick Water. Down there, beyond that rocky hill, is Alice’s house. On sunny days, we can see the three peaks of the Eildon Hills from here.”
“The Eildon Hills, where Thomas the Rhymer once lived?”
“Aye. His home, Learmont Tower, is near there. His family lives there now, after his passing.”
“Into those hills, they say, he followed the Queen of Faery and stayed for seven years.”
“And came out again, a prophet and a seer.” He glanced at her.
She nodded. Thomas of Learmont’s prophecies had earned him renown—no one had tried to control him for their ownpurpose. She pointed west. “Can you see Wildshaw Castle from here?”
“The castle is beyond the forest, past that hill over there, see? It overlooks a river valley.”
“It must be a very beautiful setting.” She glanced up at him.
“Aye.” A muscle beat in his cheek briefly. He stared out over the landscape.
“This wide view of the forest and land must be useful—for you,” she ventured.
“From up here, we can see English patrols riding into the forest and over the hills, and we can see them heading to and from Wildshaw, and so on. It is useful to see our foes, true.
“Do they know you are up here, safely hidden where they cannot find you?”
“I suppose they do.” He shrugged. “Watching from up here is like looking into the future, in a way. We can predict who we will meet down there. We can choose our skirmishes. But we cannot foresee the outcome.”
“A more practical way to know the future than I can offer. This eyrie offers protection.”
“It does. That has been fortunate. When I was captured months ago, it was elsewhere. They would not have found us had we been up here.”
“Us?” Isobel studied at his strong, handsome profile. “Where were you taken?”
“West of here, traveling to meet others loyal to Wallace when we were ambushed by a Southron patrol.” He drew a sharp breath. “A few of my men were killed, my cousin Tom Crawford—Alice’s youngest—with them. One friend got away, Sir William Seton—he carried the word to others and help came, but too late. Janet was taken also.”
“She was with you that day?”
“Aye, she was often with us. A strong and fearless lass, nor would I refuse a good bow arm just because it belonged to a woman. But that day was ill-fated. We were taken down to Carlisle, where I was held until July. Janet was put in Leslie’s custody. He is sympathetic to the English,” he added, with a glance at her.
She frowned. “Was that when you lost Wildshaw to the English?”
“Not then. The castle had been taken years earlier. My brother was baron and laird then, but he died at Falkirk, and Wildshaw became mine by right. But Edward of England dispossessed me along with other barons. I was declared an outlaw, if nothing else, for refusing to sign an oath of fealty.”
“As if Edward Longshanks has the right to demand fealty or reassign Scottish lands.”
He lifted a brow. “This, from a lass about to wed a Scots lord gone over to the English?”
“This from one who knows right from wrong. Marriage will not change that.” She turned. “You cannot gain it back, as laird of Wildshaw?”
“I tried,” he said. “It came to sorrow.” He was silent for a moment. “King Edward’s commanders installed a garrison at Wildshaw. They stock the castle with supplies and war machines to aid them in fighting in the Borderlands.”
Isobel remembered, then, standing in the bleak, threatened garden at Aberlady, cradling a white rose while James told her that he, too, had lost a castle and loved ones to the English. And she recalled that Alice had hinted he carried a burden on his heart since Wildshaw.
“What happened, Jamie?”
He sighed, stroked Gawain’s breast feathers. She marveled that such a wild bird would tolerate a man’s touch. But theman was wild, too, in his way. They understood each other. She waited.
“I would bring Astolat and come up here to watch,” he said. “I would watch for Southrons and she would watch for prey. If I released her to fly at quarry from this height, she would bring it back to me. If I did not set her to flight, she would perch calmly, even if a tempting bit of bird went by.”
“Astolat was a remarkable hawk.”
