Page 74 of The Daughters of Avalon
Cameron and Caden both shared a glance, and then a grin, and Malcom wasn’t sure whether it was a genuine show of pleasure for Malcom’s good fortune, or if he thought it propitious for other reasons. “So tell me about York.”
Cameron held his gaze. “So you can run and tell your king?”
“What would stop me from telling him now? What difference will a few details make?
Cameron gave Malcom an assessing glance, then said, “While you’re at it, tell him Earl Maddadsson sent men from Orkney and Caithness.”
“What about Sutherland?”
“Him too.”
“And what of my father? Suddenly, he’s decided that David is his rightful sovereign and he willingly bends his knee?”
“Aye.” Cameron nodded affirmatively. “And so comes Broc Ceannfhionn and Aidan dún Scoti. The Brodies, too, are prepared to fight, along with the MacLeans, Montgomerie and McNaught.”
“And de Moray?”
Cameron nodded smugly. “Him too, despite his quarrel with Keane dún Scoti.”
“Well, then, seems to me you have it all covered and what need have you for me? Simply so David might put another Northumbrian castelunder his rule? No, thank you, cousin.”
Malcom rose from the table, finished with talk of treason. “You may tell David—and my father—my answer is nay. I intend to keep my vows until such time as I can no longer do so. And now,my friends,I will retire to my bed and will advise you to do the same. Before you leave on the morrow, you must do me a boon by breaking your fast with my wife, lest she take your sudden departure as an insult.”
Cameron lifted up his cup, banging it twice on the table, as though he regretted what he was forced to say. “Very well, Malcom,” he said, looking grim. “But… now I regret to inform you that I must be taking my boy when I go.”
“I ken,” Malcom said, expecting as much. His jaw tautened—more with regret than with anger. “Before you go, I have a gift togive Wee Davie, but I will see that his belongings are packed, and he is ready to leave by the morn.”
“I would not see him embroiled?—”
“I ken,” Malcom said again, cutting him off, and he quit the hall, knowing full well what his cousin meant to say: Aldergh itself was in David’s sights. The implication couldn’t be clearer. He didn’t want his own son in harm’s way.
But keeping in mind treacherous messengers, he couldn’t help but remember another role his cousin had played so long ago. Malcom was naught more than six or seven when the original Merry Bells died, and Cameron himself was the cause of her death. FitzSimon broke the sweet dog’s neck with his own two fists and tossed her at Cameron’s feet over a bargain gone sour. Cameron had colluded with the enemy—a man who’d stolen Malcom from his father. And this, after all, was thetruereason he’d named his Merry Bells after that sweet dog—to remind himself that the enemy sometimes appeared like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
And now, he would have to part with a child he’d grown to cherish as though he were his own—and why? Because, as Rhiannon said, war was nigh.
Bloody tired over the long, long day—half a morning in the saddle and a long day in his council, Malcom, climbed the tower stairs, only belatedly remembering Daw.
With all the bustle of the day, he’d forgotten about the squire. In truth, he didn’t know precisely how to deal with the man, but he would sleep on it, and perhaps by morning light, he’d be granted an epiphany. Alas, for the moment, all he truly wanted was to see his wife and forget his troubles between her sweet thighs.
Pacingthe lord’s chamber after her bath, Elspeth waited for Malcom. It had been a long, long day and she’d accomplished so much. She’d made many new friends. But there was something bothering her she couldn’t point a finger to.
It wasn’t that she was left wanting. To the contrary, she had a plethora of new gowns to choose from, and tonight she would sleep on a plump, feathered mattress.
The lord’s chamber itself was very well furnished. There was a curtained bed in the center of the room, facing a lovely arched window with glass—put there so Malcom could awake to greet the day.
Unlike at Amdel, there were no curtains to be found here, but there were beautiful, polished wood shutters that could be closed by night. And there was a brazier on both sides of the bed, lit even during summer because Malcom apparently did not relish cold feet. That discovery amused Elspeth, because he didn’t strike her as someone who complained overmuch. But she supposed every man had preferences in his own home—particularly in the privacy of his chamber.
And this was something that pleased her: She would keep an entire solar at her disposal, with a great big hearth and plenty of room for a cauldron—if she should ever dare to use one. But for that matter, there was absolutely no reason she couldn’t use the brazier here in her chamber. Malcom already knew what she was.
Resolved to find out what was plaguing her, she went after the purse she’d begun to fill with herbs, ferreting out the dried bits of coltsfoot.
She took out a pinch, putting it to her tongue to be sure. It was sweet, like honey. And this was something else she could grow because the flowers could also be used to flavor wine or make a tea. She rewrapped the cloth, then tied it again with the ribbon, leaving the pouch on the bed as she carried the pinch to the fire. And, then, for the very first time in her life, without any concern of being discovered, she tossed the herbs into the brazier, and said:
Blazing fires as you dance,
Give me but a fleeting glance.
A puff of smoke lifted from the brazier, the scent like burnt honey. The wisps and curls took shape, forming above the fire, and to Elspeth’s surprise, it was MerryBells who appeared.
