Bertrice Small - Betrayed

She gave the king the place of honor, as was his right, seating herself on his left and letting his three men decide for themselves where they would sit. Nelly and her husband hurried forth with the meal. The two geese had been roasted to a turn. The trout lay broiled in butter and wine upon a silver salver. The rabbit stew had gained a flaky pie crust over its top. There was a bowl of small peas and tiny onions, bread, butter, and cheese. The table was set with white linen, and the single silver candelabra glittered with beeswax candles. On the far side of the table were lain fresh ferns and rose petals.

"Since ye needed the time to regain strength," Fiona said sweetly, "we were able to prepare a more substantial meal for ye, my liege."

"Do ye think to cozen me with a good supper then, madam?" he asked, spearing a piece of goose. "Ye might well."

"I seek nothing from ye, my liege, but what ye would give me. My concern is for my bairns. I am a woman, and not concerned with politics. I advised my husband to take his small troop to ye and not to his brother. I can but regret that he did not heed my advice."

The king nodded. "Nairn was a fool!"

"Nay," Fiona contradicted him. "He was loyal to his clan, for that, my liege, is how he was taught. Had ye spent more of yer life in Scotland instead of England, ye would understand that."

The king's three lieutenants looked at one another behind the king's back. The lady was brave, but then they had seen her at Inverness, and knew that.

"Madam," the king said, "ye tread upon thin ice with me."

"I will not allow ye to speak ill of Colin MacDonald," she retorted. "He was a good man for all his foolish choices, and he is now dead while ye sit in his place, in his hall, eating his food."

Suddenly the king laughed. "Fiona Hay, what am I to do with ye?"

"That, my liege, is what I would know."

"I must think upon it," he said. "Ye have my word that no harm will come to ye, yer bairns, or yer servants, however."

"I thank ye," Fiona answered him. "Will ye spend the night within my walls, sir? I will have the guest chambers made ready for ye and yer men. 'Twill not take long."

"Aye, I will," James Stewart said. "I am tired of the outdoors, and welcome the warmth of yer castle, lady."

"Ye will excuse me, then," Fiona replied, "while my servant and I make ready for ye. Roderick will remain to serve ye, and Ian will play his pipes for yer amusement, my liege." She arose and moved from the hall, Nelly in her wake.

"A spirited mare," one of the king's companions, Duncan Cummings, said. "Have ye decided her fate? Will ye choose her a new husband?"

"As I told the lady," the king responded shrewdly, "I have not decided yet. I know this lady from old, and she is not an easy woman. She has perhaps too independent a spirit. My uncle of Atholl thinks her too clever by far. I believe he may be right."

The morning was gray and chilly as James Stewart descended into the hall of Nairns Craig. A warm meal was ready to be served. The king and his three companions were pleased with the freshly cooked food. Their hostess sat by the fire, her children playing about her. It made a pretty picture, the king thought, and she had deliberately calculated it, it was certain. Finally, when the food had been cleared from the table, the king called to Fiona.

"Come, madam," he said in a stern voice. "I have made my decision as to what to do with ye and yer children."

Fiona rose. She was dressed this morning, he noted, in a most practical fashion: a heavy wool skirt, a fine shirt, and a wool shawl. Bringing her children with her, she came to stand before him, then curtsied. "My lord, I am ready for yer judgment. I can but pray ye will be merciful for the sake of my three young bairns." Her eyes were lowered.

She was a minx, the king thought. Angus was right about her. "Madam, I have no choice in what I must do. Yer husband broke his oath of fealty to me when he took up arms against me. I canna punish him, for he is dead, but if I don't punish ye, I will appear to be a weak king. Ye have one hour in which to pack what belongings ye can, and then ye will leave Nairns Craig, which I will burn as the MacDonalds burned my town of Inverness. Ye may take nothing but what ye can carry yerselves. Do ye understand?"

"I want my horses," Fiona said coldly.

"Ye are in no position to make bargains with me, lady," he snapped.

“My liege,'' Fiona said in a firm voice, “ I want my horses.'' She drew in a deep breath to calm her thundering heart. "Ye canna send me and my servants out upon the high road totally destitute and without our horses. Look at my bairns! They are no more than infants. Do ye expect them to walk all day? They will die before we reach safety. Colin MacDonald broke his faith with ye, but I have not done so."

"My lord, ye will not appear weak if ye offer the lady Fiona her horses," Duncan Cummings said. "Ye are burning her home and the bulk of her possessions. She is widowed, her bairns orphaned. A tiny modicum of mercy would not be taken amiss. Indeed, ye would be thought a just king for this show of leniency toward a helpless woman whose ungrateful husband rose in rebellion against ye. The church, I am certain, would approve yer actions." He nodded at James Stewart.

"Aye!" his two companions agreed in unison.

Fiona kept her eyes lowered. She fell to her knees before the king in a gesture of submission. Would he refuse her? she wondered, truly frightened. She desperately needed those horses; Holy Mother, let him say aye!

"Very well, madam," the king finally agreed. "Ye may have yer horses, but yer cattle and yer sheep are forfeit along with the rest of yer goods and chattel but that which ye can carry."

"Oh, thank ye, my lord!" Fiona cried. Catching his hand, she kissed it gratefully, scrambling to her feet as she did so.

"One hour, madam," he said sternly.

She curtsied, then slowly withdrew from the hall, the children following behind her. The four men watching her go were impressed with her dignity. She had accepted the punishment upon her husband's family honorably. So many wives of the defeated howled and fussed.

Ian was waiting for her outside the hall. With a nod he took Johanna from her and signaled to Alastair and Mary to follow him. Fiona hurried to her own apartment, where Nelly and Roderick awaited her.

"We have the horses!" she said triumphantly.

''I'll ride his lordship's stallion," Roderick Dhu said. "Ian will take my animal; Nelly, the white mare; and ye, the gray gelding. Young Nairn will have his pony. I took the two beasts we will use for pack animals down into the forest behind the castle this morning. They are fully loaded with the items ye and Nelly packed early yesterday."

"I've packed plenty of food from the kitchens," Nelly said briskly.

"We'll not have to exist on oatcakes forever. I've cheese, bread, and apples that Ian and I gathered from the orchard, salted meat, and a fat goose I roasted this day!" she finished with a grin.

"I don't know what I would do without ye two," Fiona said gratefully. “I could not do this without ye. When we are safe at Hay Tower, ye are free to leave me for Brae should ye choose. I can ask no more of ye than ye have already given me." Fiona took the hand of each servant and squeezed. "Thank ye."

"We'll not leave ye, lady," Nelly said in a determined voice.

"Ye have not seen my wee tower," Fiona said with a small laugh. "After Brae and Scone and Nairns Craig, it will seem a verra poor place."

Roderick Dhu patted her shoulder. "Lady, we will survive together. I would not leave young Nairn as I did not leave his father."

Fiona felt the first twinge of guilt in many years at Roderick Dhu's words. Like everyone else, he believed Alastair to be Colin MacDonald's son and heir. She wondered if she would ever be able to tell her child the truth, or if, perhaps, it would be better left unsaid.