Page 13 of A Constant Blaze

Alys? Oh yes, one of Cairistiona’s women, the one who had been mistress to her husband, the Norman, William de Lanson.The one who wished now to leave her service and take her chances elsewhere.

“Alys hates you,” Adam said flatly.

“No, she hatesyou,” Cairistiona corrected. “You killed William. When I denounce you for it, believe me, she will love me. Almost. In any case, because of her loyalties, she will be the most credible witness to the truth of what I say to the king.”

This was for Adam and Cairistiona to sort out. Halla, surrounded by suddenly vivid memories that sharpened Malcolm’s image in her mind almost unbearably, had her own tasks.

She picked up her pen, dipped it, and ran her hand over the smooth sheet of vellum before her, then began to write.

To my dear husband, Malcolm, son of Aed, all love and greetings.

It is surely the most difficult decision either of us has made, but I truly believe you must accept the liberty granted to you by the King of Scots. For the sake of your family, your country, and your people, it is important that you come home. I know you will believe me, who has always been as true as that first arrow between us.

Something splashed on the vellum, fortunately avoiding the ink. Hastily, she wiped the back of her hand over her stupidly wet eyes and continued to write.

Chapter Four

In consternation, MalcolmMacHeth gazed at his wife’s letter.

If it hadn’t been for the mention of the arrow, he would have been sure someone had forced her to write it. Certainly, she’d known the king’s men would read it and that he would be aware of that, too. Reference to the arrow, a story known only to the two of them, was her secret validation…of unpalatable and unforgivable advice.

Although he hadn’t laid eyes on Halla for twenty-two years, he’d always believed somehow that the understanding between them was still there. It had been in the few letters Mairead had smuggled into him, making Halla suddenly vivid and strong in his life once more, and in the news he received second- and third-hand from his gaolers.

Halla had ruled in Ross in his name ever since the king’s men had taken him. She had never gone back to the Isles, but brought up his children in their home, which had never been captured and never turned over to the King of Scots.

The king had deprived him of his title of earl but had never ruled in Ross. Although the royal soldiers had left triumphantly with their captive, Halla had remainedde factoLady of Ross. And in time, she had supported his sons to carry on the cause, in alliance with her brother Somerled. She had always understood what he needed and what was right.

So, why in God’s name would she sacrifice her son just to gethimback? He’d never been a good husband to her. He’d pursued his own dreams relentlessly and left her to pick up the pieces. She should have been able to expect better. And no one could ever have said that Halla’s love was blind. Why would she give up Donald for him?

She wouldn’t.

His breath caught.

“What?” Donald asked, coming to read over his shoulder. “What does my mother say?”

“That I should come home.”

“She trusts Adam.”

That might have been it, part of it.I know you will believe me, who has always been as true as that first arrow between us.

That arrow had flown true, but no one except Halla and himself had ever known it. It had been her trick, and he alone who had understood.

Excitement surged. For an instant, he saw that angry, beautiful, young girl in his mind as vividly as if she stood in front of him, proudly stretching her bow and aiming straight at his heart.

“It’s a trick,” he whispered.

Donald frowned. “How do you know? Are you guessing?”

“Trust me, your mother is plotting.” Laughter, the sheer joy he’d once felt in his youth, swept over him like a tide. “Let the world beware! And letusbe ready.”

*

Having ridden southwith all speed, Christian discovered the king at Glasgow, holding court at the bishop’s residence. Everyone she encountered was uneasy because warships had been seen from the Firth of Clyde and, in fact, from all along the west coast. They bore the banners of Somerled of the Isles, but rumors abounded that they’d been joined by a thousand Irishmen and even men from Norway. Presumably, the king was there to allay fears, or perhaps to command any necessary defense.

Escorted by Henry and the few other Norman soldiers who were all that was left of William’s once-proud force, Christian entered the town on horseback. By her side rode Alys, whom she’d brought south with her, just as the girl wished.

Glasgow was a growing, bustling little town on the majestic River Clyde. Although centered around the stone cathedral, the king’s presence had filled it with noblemen and their servants and an influx of tradesmen eager to improve their lot from the royal visit. People stared at Christian as her party made its way along the river toward the bishop’s house where Henry had already ascertained the king to be. Everyone was always curious about her mask.

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