Page 107 of The Falcon Laird
“Every part of that legend has proved true,” Gavin said. “The gold hidden in the heart of the rock, the doves sent to find it and guard it—and now this evidence of Merlin.”
“This prophecy surely must be the great gift mentioned in the legend,” Robert Bruce said. The others turned to look at him. “Merlin’s words foretell victory for Scotland over England, with its covetous king. It is a blessing indeed, at a time when we need such encouragement.”
“When the greedy king dies,” Fergus said, looking at the page that he still held, “then will the brave king o’ Scots find triumph. And Edward of England is as greedy a king as ever was.”
“But he is very much alive,” Bruce said. “We will draw hope from this prophecy, but we must continue our resistance against England, just as we have been doing.”
Fergus rolled the parchment and replaced it in the box, holding the casket reverently. “My lord king, with your permission, I will pen some copies o’ the prophecy. If we send them out to every Scottish parish, the priests will spread the word in their sermons. Merlin’s prophecy will give the people hope. Soon you will have all o’ Scotland at your back.”
Robert Bruce smiled. “I have never refused an offer of help from the Church of Scotland.” He turned toward Christian. “Cousin, I must thank you for all that you and your husband have done for me, and for Scotland.” She smiled and stood straight, but Robert frowned at her. “You look tired, Christian.”
Christian nodded. “As are we all, my lord.” She felt Gavin tighten his arm around her, offering his support. “My lord cousin, this chamber is the heart of Kilglassie, and I am privileged to have been its keeper. And I am grateful that it was not destroyed after all. But I confess that I would like to return to the comforts of my home. Is that possible?”
Robert nodded. “My men have routed the English garrison by now. Most of the English soldiers have fled, and my menare transporting the bodies of those who died to the churches nearby. I think you may return now, if you wish.”
“My lord,” Gavin said, “we offer you and your men food and shelter for this night and for as many nights as you need.”
The king grinned, a handsome, boyish smile. “We appreciate the offer, Gavin of Kilglassie. And I want you to know that I will claim only a portion of the gold and silver mined here for the treasury of Scotland. All else here is yours. The laird of Kilglassie and his lady have the greater right to what is here.”
“Our thanks, sire,” Gavin said. Bruce nodded, and gestured to John and Fergus to follow him out of the chamber.
Gavin touched Christian’s arm. “Before we go back to the castle, lady,” he said softly, “stay here for a moment.” He turned away to sift through the jumble of golden things on the floor beside the low-burning oil lamp, then came back to her.
“Here,” he said, sliding a glittering chain over her head. “Your other pendant is gone. This one may help to replace it.”
She looked down and caught her breath. Around her neck he had placed a necklace of small golden links. Suspended from that was a delicate golden pendant, shaped like a bird with outspread wings. The fanned wings were engraved gold, the tiny eyes were garnets, and its talons gripped a branch studded with emerald chips.
“It is a dove,” she said. “It is beautiful.”
He traced the design with the tip of his finger. “A dove of peace, worn by a beautiful lady,” he said. “My own.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers, a long, lingering kiss that took her breath, and took his. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her toward him. “Do you wish to stay here for a while longer, my lady?” he murmured languidly, snugging her hips to his. “There are other things I can do with my hands that you might enjoy.” They laughed softly together.
“Your hands on me again would be heaven,” she murmured against his mouth, “but that must wait until we are in a soft, warm bed. Just now, I am thoroughly tired, and very—” she stopped to utter a yearning moan as his lips took hers and his hands slid up her torso to brush the sides of her breasts.
“Very what?” he whispered, angling his mouth over hers, tracing his tongue along her upper lip. “Very eager? Very curious?”
“Mmm, those,” she said. “But I meant to say, very hungry.”
“Ah,” he said. “We must satisfy that appetite as soon as we can. Come along, then, my lady. I think Kilglassie’s treasure will keep a little longer in this place.” He put his arm around her and helped her as she limped beside him to the door.
As they passed the still bodies of the guards who lay there, Christian averted her eyes, whispering a little prayer for their souls. Then she looked toward the tunnel entrance, where rich golden sunlight poured into the corridor.
Several doves flocked in through the opening. Brilliant sunlight crested their white wings and made haloes around their heads. They cooed softly and fluttered down to rest along the wall niches.
“The wild doves are truly the guardians of this place, Gavin,” she said. “Will they mind, do you think, if we take their gold for Scotland?”
Gavin looked at the birds. “I think that they have been waiting for us to do just that,” he said. “After all, Merlin sent them to guard it for the bravest king of Scots.”
Gavin walked throughthe courtyard, cool wind rippling his hair and billowing his cloak. Late afternoon light threw long shadows across his path from the scaffolds and the high parapet. Voices, high and deep, caught his attention, and he glanced toward thesound. Michaelmas, Will, and Fergus’s boys stood with John on the other side of the courtyard.
“And we held them terrified with our bows,” John was saying as Gavin approached. The children stared up at his uncle with wide eyes. “Those English did not dare to move. We had our arrows trained fast on them—”
“Wretched dogs,” Robbie interrupted.
“Them too,” John said. “Then, from the other side, King Rob’s men attacked, fast as hawks after prey. They sliced at the English with broadswords and slammed them down with maces. Soon they were begging at our feet, and the king o’ Scots took Kilglassie before he was even breathing hard.”
“A fine story, though it may not make good dreams at night,” Gavin said. “And I hear the mothers of these little ones are waiting to put them to sleep. Christian sent me out here to say she would play her harp for all of you if you come inside now. Fergus and Moira are sleeping the night here,” he added to John.
“Go in, then, bairnies,” John said, shooing them away, “and tomorrow I will tell you the tale of Merlin’s gold, discovered after all these years.”
