Page 160 of Long Live the King

The visual description he gave me seemed familiar, crowds, fluttering white flags against a blue sky. I wasn’t sure when I’d seen it before but it felt old to me. He said it felt old, but what did he know? He was only eight times around the sun.

Lizbeth sent food to the room. Ben came by to visit. Emma joined me, bringing Jack for bed and I snuck in and out of the room to use the chamber pot.

When I returned Archie had the book in his arms again.

I was done arguing.

It had grown dark outside, the day long gone. I sat down with Jack sleepy in my arms. “Did you check the page while I was in the bathroom?”

He nodded.

“Was there a message?”

“No, want to see?”

“Sure, show me.”

Jack’s head was heavy as he drifted away to sleep. Archie sat up, opened the book to the page, and clicked on his flashlight to shine the light right on the tiny place where his grandmother had told Magnus to put the mark. He looked at it carefully. Then whispered. “Do you think you see something, right there?”

“I don’t love, if your Da wanted to send you a message it would be much more prominent than that tiny smudge, a fleck of dust really. He would make sure it was easily seen, you know how much he loves his pens, right? Have you ever seen his signature? It’s big with lots of loops. He would make sure you could read it, he wouldn’t want us to miss it.”

“Grandmother told him to make it small though...”

“I doubt your father will listen to that.”

He yawned.

“I think you’re sleepy.”

“I’m afraid to go to sleep, what if something happens?”

“I’m your night guard.”

“Will you check the book?”

“Yes.” I stood and put down Jack in the middle of the bed between Archie and Isla, who was already almost asleep.

I sat back in the chair and placed the book in my lap. I held the flashlight on top of it.

“Check every hour, Mammy, wake me if something happens. I’ll go get him.”

I kissed his temple. “I will.”

He clamped his hands over his ears and curled up on his side, and tightened his eyes.

I sighed, watching his little body as it slowly relaxed and fell asleep. He was dealing with life and death, the pressure of being the first born son. On his slight shoulders he carried the weight of a kingdom. It terrified me that he might be telling the future.

I opened to the page, and shined the light on it to see... but there was nothing there.

CHAPTER 70 - MAGNUS

NEAR STIRLING CASTLE, 1291

We approached from the southeast, marveling at the sight of the grassy slope risin’ tae the timber walls of the castle. Twas a familiar approach, the thick wooden gate and timber walls ahead of us enclosing a few stone buildings: a stone chapel, a low stone building for kitchens and storerooms, and the King’s house, the three-story stone building that held the royal bedrooms and offices. The Great Hall, the barracks for the men, the stables, and a few other buildings were all built of timber.

I had barely remembered this place, but now it all seemed familiar, and as I always thought in this approach, I wished that m’walls were higher and made of stone.

As we neared we were spotted by my guards. Four men rushed forward, bowing and filing around us. Two other men rushed away. I knew they were going to find Cailean, tae tell him I had returned.

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