Page 108 of The Forest Bride
“Who?”
“Elisabeth!” Margaret shouted, just at his shoulder.
Duncan took a step forward, bow lowered but ready. “Sir John, I could arrest you for abducting Elisabeth de Bruce and for ordering an ambush on a royal party.”
“You have no evidence!”
“We have proof enough from Bruce’s daughter and Lady Margaret. Andrew Murray too.”
“I told you that was a rescue! You may be a justiciar, but I am a sheriff. We both know you do not have enough to charge me in Edward’s Scotland.”
“This is not Edward’s Scotland.” Duncan took another step forward, making it easier to hear over the roaring water—and improving any arrowshot he might take.
“So you side with Bruce now.”
“I always did. So did you, years back. But you changed your loyalty.”
“We were friends once. Shared a dungeon cell. Where is your loyalty?”
“Where it belongs. Release Lady Margaret and leave Lady Lilias alone.”
“But Edward would want both of them. The Rhymer’s granddaughter—and Bruce’s own lass! That child is a prize. You, justiciar, could benefit too.”
“Trade a child? You are mad!”
“If you want your lady, then look the other way about the child. Let Edward negotiate for her return.”
Duncan raised the bow again, aiming squarely. The distance was thirty feet or so now, easy enough. “Let her go or regret it.”
Perhaps it was his movement or his voice that caused Greta to leave the pine and float downward, sailing just over their heads. She curved upward and fluttered to rest in a tall birch just above Duncan and Iain, perching watchful as any guardian.
Margaret’s heart sankas she watched the gyrfalcon’s angelic flight. She prayed the bird would vanish into the clouds, but Greta seemed intent on watching them.
“What the devil—is that a gyrfalcon?” Menteith craned his neck to look up.
“I told you I saw one out here, with Campbell!” De Soulis said.
“A white gyrfalcon—you could hang for that!” Menteith called.
“That would make this one a widow,” De Soulis said. Hearing that, Margaret leaned away, feeling his tight grip raising bruises. He jerked her back toward him.
“A serious offense in England, but not in Scotland,” Duncan said. “You know English law is not entirely in effect here, much as Edward wants that.”
“So the gyrfalcon is yours?” Menteith asked.
“She is mine,” Duncan said.
“Mine too,” Margaret called out. “We found her together, and share her.” She knew Duncan would not want her implicated in this, but she would not stand by and watch him risk his life for this.
“So,” Menteith said. “This lass is yours, that rare falcon is yours, the king’s daughter is in your custody. We have you to rights for the falcon at least. Perhaps you were the one abducted Bruce’s lass, eh?” He looked at De Soulis, who shrugged.
“Again, witnesses,” Duncan reminded him. “As for the falcon, my father was an earl, and by the decree of Scottish kings over generations, he had the right to own her. As his son, I have the right.”
“Spouting Scots law will not protect you. You can be removed from your position. I am aware that you never gave me the rascal who shot me. That alone is suspect.”
Margaret caught her breath. “You cannot condemn him for doing his work justly!”
“I could indeed. He has committed a crime against the crown. You will have to pledge your fealty all over again to Edward, Campbell! Best pray to keep your life, not just your rank.” Menteith limped toward Duncan as he spoke, and DeSoulis followed, holding Margaret’s arm above the elbow. She stepped on his foot, twisted away, but had no recourse but to follow.
