The Promise of Peace (7 page)

Keifer hung his head.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, my laird.”

“Now fetch us some water.”

Keifer took the bucket to the well and returned to fill the crock. Without being told, he checked to see if Cook needed water, but someone had already taken care of it. No doubt Keifer would get a scolding from Cook or Lady Gwenyth yet today as well.

Seamus drank his fill and handed the dipper back to Sir Adam, who said, “Keifer will be along in a few minutes to clean the weapons. And for this other transgression, see that he sweeps out the armory as well.”

Nodding in approval, Seamus said, “Aye, my laird,” and walked away.

Keifer drank his fill in silence. He glanced at Sir Adam, and the man stared off in the distance, as if he'd just noticed a hole in the high wall surrounding the castle. Keifer thought it best if he remained quiet.

Keifer replaced the dipper on a nail meant to hold it and looked up at his laird. He expected the man's expression to be angry, but it was not. Adam pulled on his sark, covering the scar. Keifer stifled the desire to ask how Adam had been wounded.

“Let us sit here in the shade a moment, Keifer.” They sat side by side on a wooden bench.

Keifer wiped his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. A soft breeze felt good on his face. The rest of the castle folk must have gone into the hall for the midday meal, because the bailey was deserted. Keifer's stomach rumbled, and he looked forward to eating.

But he could tell that Adam had more to say to him.

“A good warrior is a disciplined warrior, Keifer. Part of that discipline is obeying orders. Part of it is self-control. A superior warrior masters both his strengths and his weaknesses.”

“I understand, sir.” Hoping to direct the conversation away from his own transgressions, Keifer said, “You fight well, my laird. May I ask . . . How did you receive the scar?”

A pained look crossed the man's face.

“Forgive my boldness, my laird. I should not have asked.”

“No, Keifer. I'm glad you asked. When I tell you to master your weaknesses, your willingness to give in to temptation, I speak from painful experience.”

Keifer nodded, anxious to hear about the great battle and Adam's heroic deeds that earned him such a magnificent scar.

“I do not consider my wound a badge of honor, Keifer, if that's what you're thinking. I gave in to temptation and nearly lost my life.”

“Temptation?” Keifer was disappointed at the direction this was headed. Had Adam been hurt in a senseless brawl and not in the midst of battle?

“Aye. The lure of things that are not good for us.” Adam stared across the bailey before continuing. “I served with your brother Gordon. Did you know that?”

“Aye. Morrigan told me you knew him well. I don't remember him myself. Only what I've been told.”

“If I had been as good a friend to Gordon as he was to me, he might not have died at Dalry Pass.”

Adam recounted the events of a hot August day, when his head had ached from too much drink. “I was so weary from my revels the night before, I was incapable of mounting a successful defense when my companions, including the king of Scotland and his family, were attacked. I barely escaped with my life, and I could not come to Gordon's rescue.”

Keifer's heart pounded and his stomach clenched. He'd never known the details of how Gordon had died. “Was my brother a good fighter?”

“As good as any highlander with little or no formal training can be. But he was a very good man, Keifer. He died protecting his king, a hero's death.”

Hero or not, Gordon's death had been a blow to his family, especially to Keifer. “My mother and sister never blamed you.”

“No, to their credit, they did not. They proved that tenfold by entrusting you to my care.”

Keifer didn't know what to say to that and remained silent.

“I can't help wondering how it might have been different if I had been sober and alert. 'Tis only by the grace of God that I am alive, Keifer. And all for the want of a bit of self-discipline. Most of the time I am able to accept God's forgiveness, though it is still hard after all these years.”

It would be easy for Keifer to blame Sir Adam, to see him as less of a man after this confession. But his pain and regret were obvious, and Keifer couldn't help admiring him for being willing to expose his own shortcoming in order to teach Keifer. “Thank you for telling me this, my laird. I will keep my weapons clean, I promise.”

“I'm sure you will. Learn from the mistakes of others, lad. Now go and see to your chores. When you are finished and Seamus has inspected your work, see if my wife has any duties for you to perform.”

Keifer resolved to do better. If he did not, then Sir Adam might not recommend that Keifer receive further training. And Keifer wanted to be trained by the best of King Robert's knights. Gordon had died when he might have lived had he been better prepared. The same would not happen to Keifer.

FOUR

T
HE DAY TURNED UNSEASONABLY HOT by afternoon. Keifer put the broom away and pulled his tunic on over his head. Seamus had inspected the cleaned weapons and gone home to his wife, telling Keifer he was free to go once he finished the sweeping.

Keifer went in search of Nola and found her with her mother in the sewing room. “Lady Gwenyth, Sir Adam said I should ask what chores I might do for you today. And I'm sorry about the water this morning—I will do better.”

“That's good to hear.” She grinned at Nola. “If the two of you would help me wind the rest of this thread onto spools, I think it might be an excellent day for a swim. Without the sheep, this time.”

Nola jumped up. “Aye! Let's go!”

Keifer, newly mindful of his responsibilities, said, “First the thread.”

Working quickly, they finished in less than a quarter hour and Lady Gwenyth sent them off. Dense undergrowth provided a screen of privacy, and they took turns changing into something suitable for swimming. Keifer wore an old pair of breeches. Nola had a shirt of her father's with the sleeves cut short and a pair of Keifer's breeches he'd outgrown long ago.

Now the sound of the waterfall soothed Keifer as he and Nola floated in the pool beneath it.

With each lesson from Adam or Seamus, Keifer became more aware of the responsibility of leading his clan. The more he learned, the more he doubted his ability to do the job. It took everything in him to care for himself! How did a man go about caring for a great many people? How did Robert the Bruce do it? Let alone Adam?

The thought of such great responsibility overwhelmed him.

King Robert had recently brokered a truce with England, though Adam didn't seem to think it would hold. Still, there was hope that this truce might lead to peaceful negotiations. Keifer just hoped that he would have a chance to use his skills before the two countries settled their differences. He was eager to try his hand in battle. Lairdship could wait.

“Do you ever think about the future, Nola?”

“Well, I am worried that Mother will make me take care of my brothers tomorrow while she sews.”

He splashed water at her. “No, I mean when you're grown. Where will you live, and will you know everything you need to take care of yourself and your family?”

She had ducked the spray of water and paddled off a short distance.

“I worry more that I'll never get to see anything outside of the glen.”

“Really? You'd like to travel?” Nola the adventuress. Somehow this didn't surprise him.

“Aye. Mother told me about France and about the great cathedrals in Paris. I asked if we can go there sometime, but it would cost a lot and my brothers are too small to travel so far.”

“Maybe you can go when you are older. With an escort,” he added.

She stopped swimming and stood up. “You could take me!”

“I've no desire to see France.” Unless of course he was needed to guard the king of Scotland on a royal errand.

Nola resumed paddling about. “Well, if I can't see Paris, I would at least like to see Edinburgh, and maybe even Stirling Castle. You could take me there, couldn't you?”

“I could, but I have to complete my training, and that will take years. And I'm hoping that your father will recommend me to train with Sir Bryan Mackintosh.”

“Can't Seamus teach you everything you need to know?”

“He's a very good teacher, and so is your father. But I want to be knighted, to gain experience in the tourney, and perhaps in a real battle.”

“You don't have to be a knight to do that.”

“Perhaps not. But I have a more practical reason. Innishewan is in need of money—money I could earn in tournaments, if I'm good enough.”

Nola didn't give up. “I don't see why you have to become a knight. You could marry a wife with money.”

He laughed. Practical Nola always had a solution. “I could. But maybe . . . maybe if I am the very best fighter, I won't die senselessly and leave my family without protection.” He had never admitted that to anyone.

Nola paddled over to him. “Keifer, no amount of training can guarantee that.”

“Maybe not. But I'm going to do all I can to stay alive.”

“I still don't see what the great danger is, but I guess I can understand you not wanting to die and leave your family like your father did.”

Nola understood too much, despite her tender age. She amazed him with her maturity. Oft times, like now, she seemed more his own age instead of years younger.

Keifer feared that he would not be there for his loved ones—that he would one day have a child who would grow up not knowing him, just like Keifer. Sometimes the aching emptiness of that loss nearly sent Keifer into despair.

“You miss having a da, don't you?”

He shrugged. “Your da is all right, when he isn't lecturing.”

She laughed. “He just wants what is best for you. For all of us.”

“Aye, well, he needs to take a lighter hand sometimes.”

“Is that the kind of father you will be, then?”

“No. I'm not going to marry.”

“Not going to marry? You have to get married.”

“No, I don't. I have decided to name Morrigan's son as my heir. I will devote myself to the protection of my sisters and their families.”

“Morrigan doesn't have a son.”

“She will someday, God willing.” He shook his head. “Enough of such serious talk.” He splashed Nola and she retaliated. They continued to play until they churned up the bottom and the water began to cloud with mud.

Tired of swimming, they made their way to the bank where Nola threw herself onto the grass. Keifer sat beside her. “So, I take it you do want to marry but you want to see the world first.”

She pushed her wet hair behind her ears. “Aye, but I'll settle for a trip to Edinburgh.”

“You're only nine. Are you planning to marry any time soon?” he teased.

She shook her finger at him. “A girl must think of these things, Keifer. Before you know it, you're betrothed and married and having babes. I want that; I'm just not in a hurry for it.”

Keifer had never considered that a woman might want anything other than a husband and babes. The idea intrigued him. “Do you ever wonder who you'll marry?”

She hesitated.

He smiled. “What?”

Again she started to shake her finger at him and he made a grab for it. She was too quick, though and he missed. She wasn't smiling when she said, “Don't laugh or I swear I'll, I'll—”

“I won't laugh, Nola. What poor fellow have you set your cap for?”

She jumped to her feet. “Don't make fun of me!” She began to pull on her dry clothes over the wet.

Keifer followed her and when he drew close, he suspected some of the water on her face was tears. He reached for her and she pulled away.

“Nola. What did I say wrong?”

When she faced him, her heart was in her eyes and it startled him. She was just a child, though he would never call her such to her face.

“If ever I change my mind about marriage, I hope I find a companion as agreeable as you, Nola.” He pulled her to him. “Ah, lass, I'm sorry. A man would be honored to have you care for him.”

“But not you, Keifer?”

He grinned. “I'm not a man, yet.”

Innishewan

MORRIGAN COOKSON left the newly refurbished kitchen of Innishewan Castle in search of her husband, Fergus. She smiled. Marriage to Fergus had proved to be everything she had hoped for and more.

It had taken longer than anticipated to make the castle livable after her uncle left it in shambles. She hadn't seen Angus Macnab— hadn't visited him in prison—in the four years since he'd been taken to face King Robert. She shook her head. Why ever was she thinking of her uncle today?

She walked through the main hall, noting with approval that the servants had cleared and taken down the trestles. Others were spreading fresh lavender in the rushes on the floor. Morrigan found, to her surprise, that she enjoyed many aspects of running a household. A few years ago she wouldn't have believed such a thing. The thought made her smile.

Because of her training as a warrior and Fergus's as a steward, they truly complemented each other, even if their roles sometimes overlapped. In many ways theirs was a marriage of true equals, and she and Fergus worked together as a team.

She placed a hand on her barely expanded stomach. No doubt when the child was born they would need to revise their roles, but even then she knew that Fergus would not use a heavy hand to force her to his will. How she loved him!

She found him poring over the ledgers in the solar. His dark hair gleamed in the light from a small window. The scar over his eye was plainly visible, yet she thought him the most handsome of men. “Am I interrupting?”

Looking up, Fergus smiled. “Come in. I'm just reconciling some figures.”