Page 52 of Flanders' Folly
Rolf laughed. “When they ran from James!”
“To be fair, they thought he was an English giant.”
"I’d have run from James as well.” Snorre admitted.
Brigid laughed with relief. “He sounds terrifyin’.”
Flanders chuckled. “Aye, he is. He was. But Stout Duncan never balked. He’s the only man who ever got the best of James.”
“Don’t tell me. He put him in his pit?”
“As a point of fact, he did. And not long after, he adopted him. A grown man?—”
“A grown giant, ye mean.” Robert grinned. “And that’s how my brother was born.”
“Ah. I see. This is why ye can’t be his heir.”
The room sobered again, until Rolf mumbled, “it was never a problem in The King’s eyes.”
Flanders exhaled sharply. “We cannot give up on Thomas Randolph. He’ll see reason. If he knew that Atholl was related to Stephan, he wouldn’t have trusted him with this.”
Brigid wanted to go back to hoping. “So you think Stout Duncan will come?”
“He’ll come.” Robert laughed when he noted her worry. “They exaggerate. My father is a reasonable man." He paused. "As long as ye don't move, or speak, or threaten what is his."
"And Todlaw is his," Flanders said firmly. "Built by one son, held by his other. Now Stephan and Atholl have threatened both. Hemming is right. God help the bastards.”
Real hope was a heady thing and she wanted more. “How soon might he arrive?"
Flanders shrugged his broad shoulders. “I had expected all this to resolve before he arrived. But that was before Stephan arrived at our door. Now, I reckon Stout Duncan may arrive in a day, mayhap two. After noon tomorrow in any case. So, I expect we will still have time to make our enemies squawk.”
"And when he arrives?" Gerts asked.
Flanders' grin turned wolfish. "Even Atholl can’t be fool enough to attack Stout Duncan without the Regent’s backing.” Then he sobered and his gaze flew to Robert. “Unless his and Stephan’sintentions,from the start, wereto weaken the alliances that support the Bruce dynasty.”
Robert blanched. “Something only a traitor would want.”
The seasons turned again. The mood in the room changed from hopeful to outright horror.
26
HE’S COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY
* * *
That night, Brigid couldn't sleep knowing the war council was still trying to formulate a plan to warn Stout Duncan he was walking into a trap, and to avoid bloodshed. Eventually, she gave up trying, donned her robe, and padded down the hall to see if the men had made any progress. She found Gerts sitting on a bench just outside the door, sleeping soundly, snoring like a well-mannered bear.
Brigid shook her shoulder. "Gerts, go to bed. Nothing more ye can do but rest up, aye?"
The old woman nodded, and Brigid asked a servant to help the lady back to her chambers. Once they were gone, she inched close to the door to listen. A cold night breeze flowed out in a steady stream to ruffle her hair and cool her toes, but the open windows in the room weren't doing much to cool tempers.
"We've been over this a dozen times," Hemming growled. "We can't attack first. Not with Atholl's signature on that judgment. We'd be rebels against The Crown."
"What about the silver?" Robert asked, his voice strained with fatigue. "We could still try to buy Atholl off."
"The bastard wouldn't take it," Snorre replied. "Not now. He's committed himself, sent a copy off to Stirling. If he changes his mind, Stephan will tell Randolph he was bribed. I should have tossed the bastard out this window when I had the chance."
"What if we smuggled the women out?" Rolf suggested. "Through the drainage tunnel?"
