Page 97 of The Guardian's Bride
“I had a message from Lauder of the Bass regarding her,” Henry said. “A shock to learn she was falsely accused and taken to Yester, then escaped and somehow ended up in your company. What the devil, sir! If harm comes to her—”
“No harm would ever come to her in my care, sir. She was safe with me in Fife until Malise Comyn got hold of her. Edward ordered him to bring Rowena to him. My friends and I have pursued them day and night to this place.”
“Malise, that bastard!” Henry rode closer. “Edward is camped with his troops a few miles from here. He has it in his head to invade Scotland again.”
“I have naught polite to say about that.”
Henry huffed. “I saw Malise this morning at the royal camp. I had no idea he might have Rowena. She will be there unless he has moved her. He sent a patrol out here, and I came with them. We were told to search for renegade Scots. I presume that describes you and your friends.”
“We need your help, Henry.”
He shifted the reins to turn his horse. “Fetch your friends. I will take you there.”
As the guardbeckoned them into the tent, Rowena jerked out of Malise’s hold to step ahead of him. Immediately the stifling atmosphere inside the tent struck her. Two braziers rippled heat in the July warmth, and the tent was cluttered with furnishings, carpets, stacked chests and boxes, a tabletop thick with documents. Guards stood in every corner, a clerk scribbled at a table, and Brother Hugo sat in a corner studying a book. He glanced at her with no hint of surprise.
Edward sat in a wooden chair, high-backed with armrests, the chair draped with furs and robes, but he looked uncomfortable. Gaunt and pale, he leaned awkwardly on the chair’s arms. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hands trembled, and he was shivering. When he saw her, he straightened.
“Lady Rowena. So you came.”
“I did, Sire. What can I do for you?”
He gestured for her to approach, but held up a hand when Malise moved too. “Stay back, Comyn. Lady, did you bring potions? What you left us is gone.”
“I did not, Sire. I came in a rush with no time to prepare.”
“I suppose Sir Malise fears I will die any moment. I will not. I just need what you gave me before to give me the strength to do what I must do.”
“May I ask what that is, Your Grace?”
“The Scots need to see a mighty monarch at the head of an army. They refuse to show obedience and even crowned a so-called king—Bruce,” he snarled. “I rode out today wearing armor, riding my warhorse. I want them to see that I will not back down. Tomorrow I will drive my army farther into Scotland.” A spasm of pain crossed his craggy face.
“Sire, I cannot aid you for that cause. You know that I am Scottish.”
“Aye, but a woman.” He waved a hand. “Get me those tinctures.”
“I do not have them, Sire, nor means to prepare them.”
With a bony finger, he beckoned her closer. “Then give me that charm stone that healed Comyn when he was doomed,” he said low. “Where is it?”
“Sire, if I could find ingredients to make a potion,” she said, hoping to deflect him. “If Brother Hugo has anything—”
Edward snapped his fingers and Hugo came forward, frowning.
“Brother, you have potions and tinctures here. Share some ingredients with me.” Rowena listed some herbs she might need.
“Sire, there is little here,” Hugo said, addressing the king. “I have some ingredients at the castle if the lady will go there. A war camp is not the place for her.” He shot Malise a dark look as if to reprimand him.
Rowena would not agree to go to a castle where so many Scottish prisoners had vanished. “I feel the king’s need is more immediate. What do you have here?”
“Only what his doctor, John Gadsden, prepared. The king seems to think whatever you made for him was helpful. Willow and something—peppermint, perhaps. Or did you include something more—precious?”
“I left the recipe with you. You know what was in it.”
“Whatever you have, Lady Rowena, give it over now. That includes the stone,” Edward snapped. “Hugo, go back to your corner. Bring the doctor’s remedy later.”
“Sire,” Hugo said, and backed away.
Edward leaned toward Rowena. “Give me the Rhymer’s stone,” he hissed. “Where is it? Sir Malise said you would bring it. He is to be commended for his help.”
