The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel (48 page)

“She is. My sister Matty should be marrying him as we speak.”

“Your sister?” he echoed. He couldn’t believe it.

She nodded, explaining how she’d sensed something strange going on between the two of them, but hadn’t put it all together until after she’d returned from Scotland and forced her sister to confess the source of her misery. With her father’s blessing, they’d quietly changed the names on the betrothal contract.

Erik’s eyes narrowed. The naughty vixen. “And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

She mimicked his unrepentant grin. “I thought you deserved a little penance for what you put me through.”

His mouth twisted. Perhaps he did.

She bit her lip, apparently considering something she hadn’t before. “I know you said you left a note, but I hope my disappearance doesn’t cause them to stop the wedding.”

“I don’t think it will. This Matty, does she by chance have big blue eyes and long, wavy blond hair?”

She nodded. “You know her?”

“We met this morning.”

It was her turn to be shocked.

“I didn’t know which window was yours.” He gave a boyish shrug. “I picked the wrong one. At first I thought she was going to scream, but then she smiled and told me it took me long enough. She asked me if I intended to marry you, and when I said I did, she pointed me in the right direction.”

Ellie laughed. “That sounds like Matty.”

She nuzzled her cheek to his chest contentedly. He could feel her fingertip tracing the mark on his arm and wasn’t surprised when she said, “It looks different. This pattern that goes all the way around your arm like a torque wasn’t here before. It looks like a …” She looked up at him and smiled. “It’s a spiderweb! Because of the story you told me?”

He dropped a kiss on her nose. “You are far too observant.”

She ran her finger over it again. “And that looks like a
birlinn
in the web.” Aye, that had been in his idea. “I should have realized what the markings meant before: the rampant lion is the symbol of Scotland’s kingship,” she said. “But it signifies something else, doesn’t it?” He didn’t say anything. “It’s the reason you keep your identity secret. You and that man at camp—you’re part of the band of phantom warriors I’ve heard about.”

“Ellie …” He shook his head. Secrets, it seemed, were going to be difficult around her. “You make it difficult for a man to keep his vow.”

She grinned. “You didn’t tell me anything, I guessed.” She eyed him slyly. “But if I’m going to marry you, I think I deserve to know one thing.”

He arched a brow. “What’s that?”

“My new name.”

He laughed and kissed her. “So does that mean you’ll marry me?”

“I’m still thinking.”

“Hmm. Did I mention that I own at least a dozen islands?”

Her eyes sparked with excitement. “You do?”

He nodded. “I might be persuaded to show them to you.” His expression turned serious. “Marry me, Ellie. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I’ll show you the world. Just say you’ll be my wife.”

“Aye,” she said softly, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’ll marry you.”

He hugged her tight, half-tempted to take her to the church right now—before she could change her mind. But he knew his mother and sisters would never forgive him. He tipped her chin and kissed her tenderly. “It’s MacSorley.”

She let out a gurgle of laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Son of the summer traveler. I should have guessed. You really are a pirate.”

He laughed, took her in his arms, and showed her just how ruthless a pirate could be. Over and over.

Epilogue

July 7, 1307

    Robert Bruce, King of Scotland, was sitting with the ten members of the Highland Guard in his temporary war room in the Great Hall of Carrick Castle when the messenger arrived.

Now that Hawk had returned—married, and from the satisfied grin on his face, back to himself—only one of the elite warriors was missing. Not missing, he corrected, planted like a seed deep in the heart of his enemy, ready to take root when the time had come.

Bruce motioned the man forward.

“For you, sire.” He bowed, handing him the piece of parchment. “From Burgh-on-Sands.”

Bruce frowned, wondering if this was the news they’d been waiting for. Edward had mustered his men in Carlisle a few days ago and was reported to have raised himself from his sickbed once more to lead the march on Bruce.

He opened the missive, scanned the three words, and fell back in his chair.

“What is it?” MacLeod asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Bruce gazed at him in stunned disbelief. “Perhaps I have. But this is a ghost I’m happy to see.” He looked around the room, elation slowly building inside him to replace the shock. “He’s dead.” He laughed, it finally sinking in that his old nemesis was gone. “Send out the word to ring every church bell from coast to coast. King Edward has gone to the bloody devil!”

The men exploded in triumphant cheers. They would not show pity for the man in death who’d shown so little mercy to them in life. The self-styled “Hammer of the Scots” had gone to hell where he belonged, taking his dreaded dragon banner along with him.

He knew that with Edward Plantagenet’s death, the tide had turned once more from England back to Scotland. To the enemies within. Instead of Edward, Bruce would be facing his own countrymen across the battlefield: the murderous MacDowells in the south who’d killed his brothers, and his old enemies in the north, the Comyns and the MacDougalls.

He smiled. The seed he’d planted was about to take root.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

As I mentioned in the author’s note for
The Chief
, in one of those cool, serendipitous moments while researching my “Special Ops in Kilts” idea, I found a stray mention of a “warband” of Islemen appointed by Angus Og MacDonald to protect Robert the Bruce on his return to Scotland after taking refuge in the Isles. The character of Erik MacSorley is based on Domnall (Donald) of the Isles, a son of Alastair Mor MacDonald and cousin to Angus Og, who is said to have been the leader of that warband.

“Erik’s” father, Alastair Mor, is one of the claimed progenitors of Clan MacAlister—although this is debated. He was killed in 1299 (later than I suggested) in a battle with the MacDougalls.

As clan names were not used consistently at the time, I decided to use the more global “MacSorley” (sons of Somerled) to differentiate Erik from his MacDonald cousins. MacSorley is used to refer to all the descendants of Somerled: the MacDonalds, MacDougalls, MacRuairis, et cetera.

There is no record of “Erik’s” wife, but alliances with Ireland (and the Isle of Man) were common at the time for chieftains in the Western Isles. One of the hardest things for me to wrap my head around is the proximity of Ireland to Scotland and the importance of the “sea-ways.” At the narrowest point, it is a scant thirteen miles from the Mull of Kintyre (on Scotland) to the Antrim coast of Ireland. On a clear day, you can see between the two coasts. Getting to Ireland by boat from the coast of Scotland would have been easier—and much faster—than going the same distance overland. A map makes it clear why Kintyre and the Ayrshire coast of Scotland, the Western Isles, the Isle of Man, and Antrim in Ireland were all so connected—politically as well as culturally.

When trying to find a suitable bride for Erik, it didn’t take me long to settle on the de Burghs, especially after I came across a switched betrothal (you can’t make this stuff up!) between two de Burgh sisters that I knew would fit in perfectly with my story. Maud de Burgh was originally contracted for marriage with Sir John de Bermingham, the 1st Earl of Louth, but Louth ended up marrying her sister Aveline. (Maud later marries Ralph de Monthermer’s stepson, Gilbert de Clare, the 8th Earl of Hertford.) Ellie and Matty are my fictional version of these two sisters.

The betrothal with Ralph de Monthermer (also known as Raoul) is also fictional, but his story is not. He married Edward’s daughter, Joan of Acre, clandestinely and suffered a stay in the tower for his transgression against the outraged king. He was eventually forgiven and given the titles Earl of Gloucester and Earl of Hertford during Joan’s lifetime, and Atholl temporarily after the previous earl’s execution. Later, he was made the 1st Baron Monthermer. He was also fighting in Scotland at the time and is said to have been chased back to Ayr Castle by Bruce a few days after the battle of Loudoun Hill, as I mentioned in the book. Despite Ralph’s loyalty to Edward, it was he who is said to have warned Robert the Bruce of the danger to him in 1306 from King Edward that led to Bruce’s revolt.

In addition to the fate of the women in the cages—which is horrifically true—the unfortunate Earl of Atholl, who was executed after Methven, provides another glimpse into King Edward’s merciless attitude toward the rebels at the time. The first earl executed in over two hundred years attempted to appeal to Edward for mercy on the basis of their kinship. In response, King Edward ordered him to be hung from a higher gallows than the others as befitting his exalted status.

Perhaps one of the best-known legends about Robert the Bruce is the spider story that leads off
The Hawk
. At least three caves in Scotland claim to be the location where this famous event took place, but Rathlin Island in Ireland seems to edge out the others as the favorite. The spider story is said to be the origin of the quote “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, and try again.” Alas, despite its pervasiveness, scholars question whether the event ever took place, attributing the story instead to Sir Walter Scott (who seems to be the source for so many of these kinds of legends).

Whether fact or fiction, the direness of Bruce’s situation at the time cannot be overstated. His reclaiming of his crown has to be one of the greatest “comebacks” of all time, coming close to the 2004 ALCS comeback of the Red Sox against the Yankees. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) Sir Herbert Maxwell summarized Bruce’s position in early 1307 this way: “He had not an acre of land he could call his own; three of his four brothers and most of his trusty friends had perished on the gibbet; of his other supporters nearly all had given up his service as hopeless, and reentered that of King Edward; his wife, his daughter, and his sisters were in English prisons.” (Evan MacLeod Barron,
The Scottish War of Independence
, Barnes and Noble Books, New York, 1914, p. 261.)

Maiden’s (or Virgin’s) Plunge is my fictional take on the Polar Bear plunge, or ice swimming. When I was young, my sister and I used to do something similar in Lake Tahoe. We’d run through snow to jump into a freezing-cold pool and then jump back into a hot tub. It’s more fun than it sounds. Pagan celebrations were often incorporated into Christian holidays, and one school of thought has Candlemas as the Christianization of the Gaelic pagan celebration of Goddess Brighid.

Aymer de Valence would become the Earl of Pembroke by the end of 1307. His unchivalrous conduct at the disastrous Battle of Methven was perhaps the reason for Bruce’s abandonment of his knightly code for the “pirate” style of warfare that he used with such success. There might well have been a personal vendetta on de Valence’s part. His aunt was married to the Red Comyn, Lord of Badenoch, who Bruce murdered at Greyfriars (which takes place at the end of
The Chief
).

Sir Thomas Randolph—who, along with Sir James “The Black” Douglas, would become one of Bruce’s most trusted and famous companions—was captured by the English after Methven and “switched sides” until 1309. Famously, he is said to have accused his royal uncle of fighting “like a brigand instead of fighting a pitched battle as a gentleman should.” (Ronald McNair Scott,
Robert The Bruce King of Scots
, Barnes and Noble Books, New York, 1982, p. 111.) Randolph seems to have eventually come around, however, and becomes one of Bruce’s “most brilliant” commanders.

The number of men Bruce had to launch his attack on Scotland is uncertain. Three to four hundred in Carrick and about seven hundred in Galloway seems the most plausible. The larger fleet of mostly Irishmen and Islemen led by Bruce’s ill-fated brothers did meet with complete disaster at the hands of the MacDowells, with only two ships escaping. There is, however, no evidence that the attack was two-pronged as I suggested (although it would have made sense), and the Galloway disaster probably preceded Bruce’s attempt on Carrick. Both divisions are thought to have left from Rathlin, but they couldn’t have been there for long. With the English all around, “hiding” about a thousand men on the small island would have been very difficult.

Just where Bruce disappeared to for the four to five months between his fleeing Dunaverty and the attack on Carrick is one of the great mysteries of his history. Some believe Norway, where his sister was queen, but most historians think that he was hiding in the Western Isles and Ireland with the help of Angus Og MacDonald and Christina (MacRuairi) of the Isles.

Similarly, his route from Rathlin to Arran to launch the attack on Carrick is only a matter of conjecture. Bruce historian C.W.S. Barrow, in his seminal
Robert Bruce and the Community of the Realm of Scotland
, has him going from Rathlin to the Mull of Kintyre, up the coast, and then over to Arran. Going the way of Magnus Barefoot across Tarbert is my invention, but it seems plausible. The English fleet, called to action in a letter from King Edward to the Earl of Ulster at the end of January, presumably would have been swarming the Firth of Clyde. When I discovered that Bruce was reputed to have landed at Lochranza Castle at the very north of Arran Island, the Tarbert crossing made even more sense to me. They would have had to slip past the English occupied Tarbert Castle.