Page 60 of The Forest Bride
With a glance for the rocky cliff where Greta had been resting, Duncan saw with relief that the bird had left her perch. He prayed she would remain out of sight for a while.
“Odd,” Bran said. “Few riders come this way. The drover’s track is a rough run through the mountains. These rogues look headed toward the river. Ah, see their shields? Yellow with black and white checks.”
Lennox groaned. “Menteith.”
“He rarely comes to Brechlinn or sends his men this way. And he is laid up with a bad foot,” Duncan said. “Well, let us see what they want.” He set out for the hill, casting a glance around for the gyrfalcon as he went.
Margaret caught up with him. “What about the falcons?”
“These men would not care about a peregrine. But a white gyr will raise questions. Luckily, she has flown off for now.”
“If she reappears, I shall marvel to see a white bird. And so will you.”
He nodded. His mind whirled with concerns, not just the gyrfalcon, but the new task for Bruce—the arrival of another renegade priest—and now this question of the king’s missingdaughter. Not least of all, he was concerned about the lass beside him, her welfare. Her place in his life.
“Watch your step. The hillside is rocky.” He took her elbow on the incline.
“Rocky enough that the men will not come down the hill on those horses,” she said, looking toward the riders paused at the top of the hill.
“They are on chargers, which says they did not intend to come this far. Something brought them here, but what?” He hoped they had not seen the gyrfalcon on one of her long sweeps across the sky.
“Hey! Sir!” one of the knights called, and began to descend on horseback.
Duncan lifted a hand, glad that Bran and Lennox kept a little distance with Margaret, staying close enough to guard. “Sir, what is your business?”
The man, in chainmail and a red surcoat, his horse wearing a short red caparison that covered the head and the barrel of the body to the knee, rode carefully down the hillside to a jutting platform of rock and turf. The other knights stayed on the ridge of the hill. Duncan noted that two wore Menteith’s badge and one wore the red and gold surcoat of an English soldier.
A mixed group, Duncan thought, sent out by Menteith with something in mind.
“Duncan Campbell of Brechlinn! Is it you, sir?”
Duncan climbed closer, standing just below the rocky platform. For a moment, he wished he had worn chain mail, but was grateful for the simple protection of a leather hauberk over his tunic. He and his companions had not anticipated seeing others that day, and so neither he nor Bran or Lennox carried more than daggers.
“I am Campbell of Brechlinn,” he answered.
“Justiciar in the north?”
“I have that title. And you?”
“Sir William de Soulis, knight of Liddesdale.”
“I know the name, though we have not met.” He knew the man’s kinsmen and knew Sir William was heir to the lord of Liddesdale, who held his position in Scotland under King Edward. Though Scots by birth and right, the father and sons were loyal to the English. “I see that your men belong to Menteith and Edward. These are my lands. This glen is part of Brechlinn.”
“We are just passing through on our way to Crianlarich.”
This De Soulis was perhaps in his twenties, long legged and broad shouldered in chainmail and a red-and-white surcoat. His short dark beard elegantly defined strong features, and his eyes were deep brown under black brows. Duncan recognized the red-striped crest from his years in King Edward’s service. The De Soulis family was prosperous and influential in the Scottish Borders and sided firmly with Edward, reaping advantages. Another De Soulis, Walter was his name, had been killed recently by rebels, so Duncan had heard.
“You are far from Liddesdale and the Borders, sir,” he said.
“Currently I am installed at Roskie Castle, where Sir John Menteith resides at present.”
“Ah.” Duncan came closer. “How is his foot?”
“Recovering. He mentioned you were present when he was shot. He is better but still making a moan of it.”
“I wish him a quick recovery.”
“Fortunate to find you here, Campbell. Sir John asked me to stop at Brechlinn Castle on my way back from Crianlarich, but here you are. Very convenient.”
