Exiles in Time (The After Cilmeri Series) (34 page)

“
No,” Callum said, under
his breath.

Only Cassie and Robbie heard him.
“No?” Cassie said.

“
Erik of Norway has a
genuine grievance,” Callum said. “He lost his daughter who should
have been queen and now other men fight over her throne. Why
shouldn’t his sins be forgiven as much as Robert
Bruce’s?”

“
Bruce is dead,” Cassie
said, dryly.

“
True,” Callum said, “but
the question still stands.” He turned to Robbie. “I don’t know if
you will ever become king, but I do know that Scotland would be
ill-served by any man gaining the throne over the bodies of his
rivals. When you expressed as much to me, you showed wisdom beyond
your years.”

“
My lord?” Robbie said. “I
don’t understand.”

“
I don’t either, Callum,”
Cassie said.

Callum turned in the saddle and waved
at Lord Patrick, who sat on his horse a few feet away. “I want
twenty noblemen to ride into the valley with me. And I want my
white flag again.”

“
Yes, my lord!”

Robbie seemed to have been struck
speechless that Callum wasn’t going to order his forces to attack,
but Cassie sidled her horse closer. “What are you going to say to
Erik?”

“
I’m going to force him to
see that he cannot win,” Callum said, “any more than Bruce or
Balliol can win without the consent of the governed. I’m suggesting
that we begin as we mean to go on.”

“
Who do you propose should
be the King of Scotland, then?” Cassie said. “King
David?”

Callum shook his head. “That’s not my
decision to make. It’s not any single man’s decision to make. It
occurs to me only now that David sent me to Scotland because he
believed I could find a solution to the problem of Scotland’s
succession out of my experience, one that only we few have. He
understood what might be possible, and if it was, I was the only
man in Scotland who could see it through.”

“
What might be possible?”
Cassie said.

“
Democracy.”

Chapter Twenty

Cassie

C
allum’s small party rode into the valley under a white flag,
leaving the bulk of the army on the heights to be as intimidating
as possible. Cassie feared Erik of Norway would be intransigent,
but once Callum explained to him the size of the enemy forces
arrayed against him, and the fact that King David was marching
north to deal with the succession personally, he turned pragmatic.
Erik ordered his men to stand down and to wait for him at a camp to
the south of Stirling, while he joined Callum’s company to ride up
to the castle.

There would be another council and
maybe this one would actually reach an agreement. As the company
cantered up the long road to the top of the crag, Cassie eyed
Callum, riding ahead of her and surrounded by a dozen noblemen. She
didn’t know what the other men thought of him, but she saw in him
what King David must have seen. Callum had taken charge of the
proceedings. It was as if he’d been born for this. While Cassie
knew that a relationship between them would never work, that didn’t
mean she couldn’t be proud of him.

The company rode under the gatehouse
and such was the press of men and horses in the bailey that it took
her a moment to notice the uproar occurring at the far end. She
dismounted beside Callum and together they elbowed their way
through the crowd to find that it wasn’t Erik or James, Balliol,
Red, or Grampa Bruce who’d brought the entire matter to a head, but
Liam, Kirby’s nephew.

Liam held his uncle at sword point. A
blood-stained bandage covered Liam’s head, and his arm was glued to
his chest by a second bandage, but he stood tall in the center of a
ring of men that surrounded him and his uncle. It could have been a
middle school fight, except for the real sword Liam held and the
bishop’s staff his uncle clutched as a meager defense.

Liam’s accusation rang through the
clear air. “I name you traitor!”

“
This is just what I need
right now.” Callum shot Cassie a weary look.

Kirby sputtered, “Liam—” Then at the
sight of Callum shouldering his way through the crowd, Kirby went
from dismissive to pleading in the space of a breath. “My lord,
please—” He held out his hand to Callum.

“
You will not speak!” Liam
said. “I have lain in my bed since I arrived, half out of my head
to be sure, but I can no longer remain silent in the face of your
treachery. I cannot allow you to weave your webs of deceit upon
innocent men!”

Liam’s wrist wavered as he pointed his
sword at Kirby, and his face was nearly as white as his linen
shirt. He looked like he might collapse at any moment. Still, he
kept his shoulders back and had the wherewithal to flick the point
of his sword towards James, who stood under the gatehouse to the
upper bailey, watching the proceedings with a preternatural
stillness. “You must listen, my lord, to the tale I have to
tell!”

Kirby tried again. “You don’t know
what you’re saying—”

“
You left me for
dead!”

The shout echoed around the bailey.
Callum slid around the last few men who blocked his way. He crept
up to Liam from behind, trying not to draw his attention from Kirby
or James, but Liam sensed him and swung around.

Callum brought his hands up. “You
don’t need to do this, Liam.”

“
Don’t I?” Liam jerked his
head towards Red Comyn, who stood beside his father ten feet away.
“Did you know that the Comyns pretend to support Balliol, but
really seek the throne for themselves and are servants to a greater
master?”

Cassie believed Liam instantly, but
Callum kept his face impassive, as if Liam was telling him
something he already knew.

“
Put away the sword, Liam,”
Callum said. “Nothing good can come of this.”

“
My uncle’s death! That can
come of this!” Liam leapt at Kirby, slashing his sword. Kirby
brought up his staff and jumped back just in time to deflect the
sword’s tip. Callum moved closer, but as Liam recovered, he spun
back to him. “Stay away from me!”

By this time, both Samuel and Robbie
Bruce had come to stand on either side of Cassie. Robbie watched
intently for a moment and then strode forward, elbowing his way
through the crowd until he was inside the circle too. “Let him
speak, my lords! I have lost my father over this matter. Let him
speak!”

Kirby really wasn’t good at keeping
quiet, even if it was in his own best interests. “My lord Callum, I
don’t know what he’s talking about—”

Callum made a slashing motion with his
hand in Kirby’s direction. “Quiet!”

Meanwhile, the Comyns had taken a step
backward, out of the first ring of onlookers gathered to watch the
fight. Cassie nudged Samuel, tipping her head towards them, and
said under her breath, “Don’t let them get away.”

Samuel disappeared from Cassie’s side
and twenty seconds later reappeared behind the Comyns, with Andrew
Moray beside him.

“
Tell me, Liam,” Robbie
said. “Tell me what you know.”

But it was James who answered, finally
moving to where the combatants stood. “Those who know more than
you, Liam, have been aware of Bishop Kirby’s treachery for some
time. I wish you’d come to me first, Son.”

Liam’s mouth opened and closed like a
fish. “M-m-my lord—”

James halted in front of Kirby. While
Kirby dipped his head in obeisance, James gazed stonily back at the
bishop. “I’ve been making my own inquiries since I learned of your
treachery, Bishop. It is my understanding that you’ve recently
spent some time in France.”

“
That’s what I’ve been
trying to tell you.” Liam had reached the end of his rope. “He met
William de Valence in Avignon! Night after night they schemed
together!” This last accusation seemed to exhaust Liam completely
and he stumbled. Callum reached him, going down on one knee just in
time to keep him from collapsing on the stones of the
bailey.

Kirby stood as if his feet were frozen
to the ground, a fixed smile on his face. Cassie wanted to see
something else from him—hatred, anger, loathing—but he kept his
expression mild, as if nothing untoward was happening. “I did, my
lord.”

“
William de Valence is the
sworn enemy of England and plotted against King David’s life,” said
James, “and yet you admit to meeting with him?”

“
As a bishop of England, my
role is to foster peace, no matter how acrimonious the grievance
…”

“
You were not there to make
peace!” said James. “You were there to conspire with Valence to put
the Black Comyn on the throne of Scotland.”

Cassie gasped along with the rest of
the crowd. How could they have been so stupid as not to see it
before? She could understand Callum’s ignorance, since he’d only
been in the Middle Ages for six months, but the marriage of Joan,
William de Valence’s daughter, to Red Comyn had been the talk of
the clans in the spring. Red had married Joan despite Valence’s
disgrace and exile, and the wedding had apparently cost Valence a
small fortune in dowry. One rumor suggested he’d spent more than he
could afford.

“
You dare to call yourself
a man of the Church?” Robbie advanced on Kirby. “You saw to the
murder of all but a handful of the king’s company; you manipulated
MacDougall and my father to their deaths. All for what? Money?
Power? A place at the new king’s side? A post in Rome?”

“
I have no idea what you’re
talking about,” Kirby said.

“
I don’t either, but I’m
looking forward to finding out.”

Cassie swung around at the commanding
voice. Arriving next to where Callum and she had left their horses
was a man in his forties, helmetless, with a full head of red hair
going grey at the temples. He had arrived unannounced amidst the
turmoil, but here was a man who could never go anywhere
unnoticed.

“
My Lord Clare!” Callum
released Liam to two guards and strode out of the circle of
men.

Gilbert de Clare—Earl of Gloucester,
the fifth Guardian of Scotland, and King David’s right-hand
man—dismounted. His traveling cloak was stained and his boots were
caked with mud, but he rode at the head of a company of men and
looked more like a king than most of the claimants to the Scottish
throne. The crowd gave way, allowing Callum and Clare to greet each
other a pace from Cassie.

“
Thank God you’re here,”
Callum said in a low voice as the two men clasped forearms. “Only
you would believe the intrigue and deception I’ve had to wade
through since I got here.”

Clare’s eyes crinkled in the corners,
the only indication of his emotions, and then he looked past Callum
to his fellow Guardians: James and the two Scottish bishops who had
come to stand beside him. “Sorry I’m late. Perhaps someone would
care to explain the problem?”

Chapter
Twenty-One

Callum

K
irby and the two Comyns had been arrested and locked away in
one of Stirling’s towers. Liam was back in bed under careful watch,
though more for Kirby’s safety than because James felt the need to
hold him. The time had come to speak truth to power, as one of
Callum’s Cambridge professors had liked to say.

Callum leaned heavily on the table
before him and looked at the twenty men who faced him. “I will lay
out your choices. You can do this now, or you can do it later when
it’s King David who suggests it.”

“
Why should we listen to
you?” said the still belligerent Erik of Norway.

Callum stabbed a finger towards the
western wall of the chamber in which they were meeting. “You think
your chances of defeating the entire might of Scotland out there in
the valley are that good, do you?”

Erik glared at him, but Callum didn’t
back down.

“
I speak for King David,
who countenances this plan.” If it wasn’t what David wanted, Callum
would ask his forgiveness later.

“
King David—” Erik scoffed.
“Upstart boy.”

That brought James to his feet. “His
claim to the throne is more legitimate than yours, and he had the
sense not to bring an army against us to force our hand. He, at
least, believes in Scotland.”

Balliol and Grampa Bruce also rose to
their feet. When they realized that they both wanted to speak at
the same time, neither gave way by sitting down again. In the end,
Balliol went first. “The crown is mine by right of
birth.”

“
I beg to differ,” Grampa
Bruce said. “Mine is the superior claim.”

Balliol sneered. “An election would be
a waste of time. We already know who would win.”

“
I would,” Grampa Bruce
said.

Balliol turned on Grampa Bruce. “You
always were the most arrogant—”

“
Put that confidence to the
test,” Callum said, cutting through their argument. “Put your
weight behind an election. Both of you.”

“
Lord Callum is right,”
said James.

Callum cheered inwardly that James had
made up his mind to support Callum’s plan. It had been by no means
a sure thing.