Banquo's Son (A Crown of Blood and Honour Book 1) (2 page)

By the look on Rebecca’s face, it was clear this was painful but she said nothing and her daughter gently rewrapped the bandages, wiping her hands on her apron. Only when her daughter kissed her forehead, did Rebecca speak. ‘Thank you, my pet. You’re God’s gift for any mother.’ Rosie smiled and looked over to Fleance. She winked at him and then returned the pot to the wagon.

He barely remembered what he ate or said or did but when Fleance finally crawled into his bed, his mind was filled with on
ly her.

The next morning Rosie and her family left at dawn to travel back to their village.

Fleance had no idea when he would see them again and was surprised at the emptiness their departure left in his world.

A month later, Magness announced that they would all travel south to attend a village carnival. Keavy was excited but Fleance not so. He knew Magness would expect him to compete in the crossbow competition. ‘I’d rather keep hunting, Magness,’ Fleance said. ‘The game is abundant at present and I believe I can earn well with t
he skins.’

But Magness would have none of it. ‘You need the practice against other fellows as skilled as yourself,’ the older man told Fleance. ‘Besides, the prize money is handsome.’

This should have been enough to tempt him but when
Magness
turned to Miri and said
Dougal and Rebecca have sent word they will attend,
suddenly the prospect of travelling to a village carnival a day’s ride away became more interesting. If Dougal and Rebecca were to attend, so would their daughter.

Over and over he thought about what he might say to Rosie when he next saw her. And then what he would do next; say next; whether he would find the right words or make a fool of himself instead.

The next day, they packed up their camp, loaded the wagons and set off with Fleance driving one and Magness, Miri and Keavy in the other. Willow, Fleance’s father’s horse, trotted behind. The sun was hot even for this time of the morning so Fleance pulled on his hat to shield his eyes from the glare of the bright day. His stomach was jittery with butterflies so he tried to concentrate on the road ahead.

They stopped for lunch beside a fast-flowing stream and replenished their water skins. Magness unhitched the horses and, after eating well, retired to the shade of an oak tree, promptly falling asleep. Fleance jiggled his legs impatiently – he always became anxious when sitting around doing nothing. The horses did need a rest, but he was keen to get to the village.

Miri was re-plaiting Keavy’s hair and the two discussed ribbons and laces while Fleance picked at the bark of the tree where he s
at waiting.

Finally, Magness stirred and they were on their way again.

The village was bustling and crowded and noisy when th
ey arr
ived. Animals, running free or in crates, added to the cacophony of sound that greeted them as they drove the wagons down the busy main road.
The actual carnival was set on a large clearing at the north end of the town and many visitors had already set up their caravans and tents. ‘We will find a quieter spot,’ Magness called back to Fleance.

The whole time they were driving through the village and passing people, Fleance sat up straight and strong, trying to appear taller, grander than he really felt. And, as he did this, he searched for the tall, dark-headed girl who had captured his attention nearly two months ago. But his search was in vain, for she was nowhere to be seen. Fleance slumped back against the seat of the wagon. Perhaps she had not arrived . . . yet.

The two wagons carried on past the main cluster of temporary dwellings and found shelter beside a number of large trees in a spot which pleased Fleance’s adoptive father. Magness and Fleance saw to the horses before they began to set up their tents, while Miri and Keavy went to explore. The sun beat down on their backs, so they were soon working bare-chested, sweating as they hauled up the heavy canopy between the two wagons.

The heavy work was a welcome distraction and soon Fleance’s mind was focused on the task before him and not on his hopes of seeing Rosie.

Rosie

It was too hot and she should not have worn the tight woollen dress for this day. Ma had suggested the lighter blue dress but the red always made her feel pretty. Children milled around the large, cordoned-off area at the top end of the field, their excited chatter and laughter filling the air. Rosie sighed as she scanned the crowds. There were no girls her age – or boys, for that matter. Those
gathered
were either older women and men or young ones keen to have a go at the variety of games and competitions the village elders had organised.

Suddenly a voice called her name. ‘Rosie!’ She looked in the direction of the sound and saw Miri’s daughter, Keavy, making her way forward.

‘Rosie,’ Keavy shouted in excitement. ‘You must come!’ The little girl flew at Rosie and pulled on her arm.

‘What is it?’ Rosie laughed as she was dragged along.

‘We are to do the three-legged race but Flea won’t have a
partner
.’

Flea? Rosie’s heart skipped a beat. She’d only met him twice but each time she had seen something in his eyes that promised so much more. She had not even considered he would attend the carnival. Her parents had spoken of Magness being reclusive and it never occurred to her they would attend something like a carnival. Why hadn’t she anticipated this? Still being pulled by the little girl, Rosie tried to tidy her hair with her free hand, pushing flyaway strands back into her braid.

‘Keavy, slow down!’ she cried as she tried to stop puffing. By now, Keavy was running, pulling Rosie behind her.

‘Come on!’ Keavy giggled, lifting her skirts above her knees. ‘I’ll race you. Ready. Set. Go.’ And the wee one sprinted off before Rosie had a moment to think.

‘That’s not fair!’ Rosie called after her and jogged along. ‘You’re faster than me.’

She heard Keavy call before she disappeared into the small wooded area, ‘Not as fast as Flea!’ And then she was gone.

Flea
. Rosie stopped, put her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. She remembered the way he looked at her when they first met. Then, the night they had visited Magness’s family, he had sat close enough for her to feel the brush of his arm against hers as they laughed and talked around the fire. Her stomach took a sudden flip at the memory, her heart fluttering with excitement. How she’d dreamed of him – his soft blue eyes, his nervous glances at her . . . And now, she was to see him again!

She walked towards the shaded crop of trees, smoothing down her dress and fussing with her hair. With all this running, did she look too wild? Breathe and be calm, she told herself as she walked towards the sounds of people working and laughing which came to her on the warm breeze.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa!’ cried a man’s voice. ‘Look out, lad!’ There was a loud tearing sound and a heavy thud as tent and uprights landed in a heap between the wagons.

Rosie walked forward and there he was. ‘Oh,’ she said, covering her mouth before she was noticed gaping.

Flea stood over the fallen tent. His tunic was tied around his waist and he worked bare-chested. Rosie stared, her mouth dry, her heart pounding. Magness stood there also shirtless but with a deep frown on his face.

‘How did that happen?’ Flea asked.

Magness kicked the post at his feet and a large piece of wood came away from it. ‘Ahhh,’ he growled. ‘The thing’s rotten.’

Just then he looked up and saw Rosie. ‘Rosie, lass. Is your father here too?’

‘Aye,’ she said, trying hard not to look at Flea’s naked chest. ‘Do you want me to fetch him?’

‘But what about the race, Rosie?’ Keavy cried.

‘Race?’ Magness began pulling up the canvas and Flea helped him. ‘Concentrate, lad,’ he growled again and Rosie was pleased to see that Flea was paying more attention to her presence than the task in front of him.

‘Da, there’s to be a three-legged race and Rosie hasn’t got a partner nor has Flea because they are too big for the other children so they can go together,’ Keavy gasped all in one breath.

Both Magness and Flea stopped dragging the tent and stared at Keavy. ‘Well,’ Magness began. ‘I guess I can spare your lad while I talk to Dougal about some wood for the uprights.’

Flea looked straight at Rosie and grinned. ‘You’d have me as a partner then, Miss Rosie?’ Her stomach leapt.

‘There’s no one else,’ Keavy pleaded. ‘Please, Flea. Rosie?’

Rosie took in a deep breath. ‘Well,’ she said, sounding much braver than she felt. ‘I will have you know that I am fiercely
competi
tive, Flea, so I am hoping you are as fast as Keavy boasts you are.’

Flea pulled the tunic from around his waist and put it on. ‘Aye, I am known to be good at some things,’ he said and she saw the delight in his smile and it warmed her heart.

‘Hooray,’ Keavy said, now tugging on her adoptive brother’s arm. ‘It is to start soon. We must go back now or we will all mi
ss out.’

With Keavy between them, Rosie and Flea returned to the main carnival. The wee child’s chatter was a welcome
distraction
. Rosie kept trying to push from her mind thoughts about Flea which threatened to undo her. He was just a man, no more. She should not be so affected by his presence. But, truth be told,
she w
as happy that he walked beside her; that he was so handsome and she knew, the way only a young woman can know, that he was drawn to he
r also.

The gaggle of children and the colour of their costumes hit Rosie as they approached the starting arena. ‘You must tell the judges,’ Keavy said. ‘I have my partner and we have registered but you must go and say that you are a couple.’

Rosie’s heart jolted at the word but she looked up at Flea. ‘I will do that. You gather the ties and I will meet you anon.’

With her heart racing, she spoke to the master that there would be an addition to the race. The ruddy-faced man looked at her and then over at Flea and grinned widely. ‘Aye. Your father would be pleased then, wee Rosie.’

Rosie tried to ignore the assumption but she was pleased others had noticed the potential for a fine match.

Flea, looking slightly out of place, held the ties and was searching for her. She waved at him and smiled and so did he. Rosie breathed out. Be calm, she counselled herself; don’t fuss. But, with her heart giddy, the two of them secured the ties around her left and his right leg and stood waiting for the signal.

‘If you’re too slow,’ Flea said, ‘I’ll lift you and carry you myself.’

She did not know what made her but she thumped him in the arm. ‘Or, man, I might have to carry you!’

He roared with laughter and they missed the starting horn so a mêlée of children swarmed ahead and they were left trying to coordinate themselves. Rosie could not stop giggling.

‘Quiet, Rosie,’ Flea laughed. ‘You are undoing me. And us.’ She tried to bounce along with him, his strong arm around her waist and hers around his, but they were too slow. ‘Damn it, woman,’ Flea cried, laughing and he picked her up, carried her against his hip and hopped all the way to the finish line.

They had not come last, thankfully, but Flea did not let go of her when they crossed the finish line and they both tumbled to the ground.

Rosie laughed so much she feared she might embarrass herself. They lay there in the hot morning sun, staring at the rich blue of the sky above. She thumped her hand gently onto his chest. ‘You made us lose,’ she told him, feeling completely at ease.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. ‘
You
made us lose, dear Rosie, for being too unprepared. But I am pleased we were partnered, nevertheless.’

‘Me made us lose?’ she said sitting up awkwardly. ‘I was doing everything right but you are uncoordinated.’

Flea was lying on his back holding her hand, as the noise of the laughing children surrounded them. His eyes were closed and he wore a slight grin. Such thick dark lashes, Rosie thought.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. ‘You were slower,’ he said quietly, ‘and I could not lose you, Rosie, so I held back.’ Flea rolled over and looked at her a moment, melting her heart.

Then he leant over and gently kissed her.

Rosie knew at that moment she had fallen in love.

Chapter Two

L
ater that afternoon Magness found Fleance back at the campsite.

‘The competition will start soon, Flea,’ he said. ‘It’s a larger reward than I thought.’ Fleance thought about the prize. He had become aware a few years earlier that Magness and Miri need not care about earning money – coins (and sometimes even gold) were always available. Where it came from, he had no idea and neither of his adoptive parents spoke of it. They still lived frugally and both he and Magness worked hard on the gathering of pelts to sell at market.

Magness paid the entry fee and Fleance’s addition to the entertainment caused somewhat of a stir: the young man was wagered as a skilled marksman. Still, Magness kept a close eye on him.

‘You will do well, lad, if you keep your head; you’ve been trained by the best.’

The crowds stood behind him, and on the left and right, behind a long rope which had been used to secure the shooting range. There were fifteen fellows, so there would be three rounds to start with. Fleance was selected to shoot in the second heat and stood in the middle with two men on either side of him. He removed a bolt from the quiver and loaded his crossbow.

His target stood down the far end of the track and Fleance focused on the yellow circle in the middle of the face. The signal was given and Fleance released the trigger, the butt kicking him back slightly. As the judges checked and marked their shots, they all reloaded and waited again for the signal to shoot their second bolt.

Instinctively, Fleance repeated the action and was rewarded with another excellent result. He was into the next round with three fellows dropped.

The judges waited until the crowd was silent before giving the signal. Fleance thought of nothing else but the feel of his crossbow, the sequence of reloading and firing. Over and over, unaware that he was steadfastly returning to each round.

Finally, four were left and the judges signalled for a respite. Thankfully, Fleance set aside his weapon and took the drink
Magness
offered him. ‘You’re doing well, lad. Stay focused and don’t change a thing. You’re scoring highest almost every time.’

Fleance wiped his mouth and handed back the cup to
Magness
. Just then, he spied Rosie in a red dress standing beside Miri and his stomach leapt. He had not considered she would be watching.

Inwardly, he shook himself. He must concentrate and remove all other thoughts from his mind but now he was ever conscious of her eyes on him. He raised the crossbow up and in front of him and waited for the signal. Again, he focused on the yellow circle but, before his eyes, this changed into Rosie’s soft mouth.

Fleance pulled the trigger and knew immediately the bolt had gone wide. There was a disappointed murmur from the crowd.

Again, second bolt of three. This one hit its mark but Fleance already knew the damage had been done. Final bolt loaded. Signal. Fire. It was not a bad result but, with the skilled men beside him, it would not be enough.

The four waited anxiously for the judges’ decision. They finally walked up the concourse, grim-faced and announced their decision. Fleance was not in the final.

He turned to look at Magness but it was Rosie he saw. All feelings of disappointment evaporated. There would be other crossbow competitions but there would only be one of her. He would face Magness’s wrath without fear.

Another long month went by before Dougal and his family paid them another visit. ‘I have an extra barrel for you, Magness,’ he cried as they rode into the campsite. ‘’Tis my gift for your
hospitality
.’

With his heart beating wildly at this unexpected visit, Fleance ran his hand through his hair hoping that he did not look too unkempt, for he and Keavy had spent the afternoon gathering twigs and bracken for the fire.

It was quietly speculated, he knew, between Magness and
Dougal
that Rosie and Fleance might marry. It had only been a matter of months but everyone knew that the match was a good one.

He’d only kissed her once, after the three-legged race at the carnival, but oh, what a kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet and sent his head spinning.

Fleance hadn’t been able to sleep that night. He had lain there reliving that single kiss and the way that she had leant hard into him.

He longed for a repeat; another chance to hold her again in that way. Though the dark corners of his mind warned him: you can’t; you mustn’t; not yet.

When he was with her, life seemed more colourful and happy. When she left, it was as if she took with her all that splendour. She was so funny, as well, and when they were together at the carnival, Fleance spent so much time laughing that, when they parted, he smiled for days remembering her wee acts and tales.

Fleance made his way to her side. ‘Rosie, you’re looking migh
ty fine.’

Rosie smiled and lifted her hand to his face. ‘Ah, Flea. ’Tis nice to see you.’

Fleance put his hand over hers and pulled it away from his face so that he could kiss her wrist. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said quietly.

‘And I, you.’

Miri called to them. ‘Flea. I forgot to pick some fresh mushrooms. They are in the field below the stream. Would you an’ wee Rosie be kind enough to fetch some for supper?’

Fleance grinned. Keavy could have done the errand but Miri was giving them some time alone together. For that he was both ecstatic and terrified.

Rosie grabbed his hand and called to Miri, ‘I know where they are but we’ll take a light to help us.’

The two of them, hand in hand, Fleance holding the torch and Rosie the basket, walked quickly to the field to fill it with plump, wild mushrooms.

‘Keavy’s growing up so quickly,’ Rosie said.

‘Aye. She’s clever an’ all.’

She sighed. ‘I hope to have lots of babes like her.’

Fleance felt his face warm. ‘And strapping lads to help with the hunting.’

Rosie squeezed his hand. ‘How many children do you want then, Flea?’

He looked down at her and kissed her on the forehead. ‘As many as we can.’ The moment, though, the answer was out of his mouth, he felt a small panic rise in his throat. Everything he said was true – he wanted lots of babies; lots with Rosie. But he shouldn’t be thinking this way.

‘Flea?’

‘What? Oh, sorry. Away with my thoughts again.’

‘’Tis just as well you have me to ground you otherwise you’d always be lost to your dreams.’

He tugged on her braid. ‘But it’s because you’re always in th
em, sweet.’

She laughed out loud. ‘You’re such a sop, sometimes. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d want to pound some better phrases into you.’

That twinge again. Rosie threw the phrase out so easily
. Love
. Fleance knew that it was the power of this feeling and this woman beside him that was adding to the quiet dread which sat in his heart.

‘Better hurry,’ Rosie said, her voice as light and happy as his soul felt weighted and sorrowful. ‘Come on, Flea. The quicker we get these mushrooms, the longer we have on our own.’

In the torchlight, he saw her eyes dance and her beautiful smile widen. Such was the power of her presence, his pain slipped below the surface and, shaking his head to get rid of the last of the ill
feeling
, Fleance matched her skipping pace towards the field.

On the way back, they stopped by the stream. Fleance secured the torch into the soft soil, took off his cloak and laid it on the ground. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘I need to catch my breath.’

Rosie laughed. ‘You’re as strong as an ox and as tireless as a mule.’ But she sat down beside him. Fleance pushed her onto her back and lay on his side to look at her.

‘I’m breathless because of being with you, Rosie.’ He stroked the side of her face. ‘I’ve never known anyone so wonderful and so beautiful. You’re a princess.’

She rolled onto her side and looked at him. ‘No, Flea,’ she said softly, ‘I’ve not a jot of royalty in my blood. I’m regular folk through and through.’ Then Rosie spoke of the people she’d met on their travels; her descriptions and mimicking causing Fleance to laugh so much that his face ached. Later she reached over to him and ran her fingers through his hair. ‘You’ve lovely locks for a man.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, look at Da and Magness – thick, knotted and usually hosting lice. Yours is always clean and soft and so dark at times I see it shimmer blue.’

He stared at her. The stroking motions of her fingers were sending him into a kind of trance. ‘Rosie,’ he whispered. ‘You’re very dear to me . . .’

‘Shhh,’ she said, putting her fingers to his mouth. Then, swiftly she replaced them with her lips. Her hand traced down the side of his neck, over his shoulder.

She pulled his tunic free and moved her hand up. He pulled her close then just as quickly pulled away.

‘What is it?’ Rosie whispered.

‘Mushrooms.’

‘Mushrooms?’

‘Aye. Miri will be wanting these mushrooms.’ Fleance untangled himself from her embrace and sat up. ‘We best hurry.’ He stood up, and put his hand out to Rosie.

Once she was on her feet, she moved towards him again and gave him a long and sweet kiss.

Then, Rosie, not knowing what he was thinking, but perhaps understanding the way of love, picked up the basket of mushrooms, leaving Fleance to carry the torch, his cloak and his raging passion.

‘We’re almost dead with hunger,’ Miri called when she saw them arrive at the camp.

‘Sorry, Miri. We lost sight of the night. But we did find lots of mushrooms.’

‘Indeed,’ Miri murmured as she took the basket from Rosie, her sharp eyes taking in their dishevelled appearance and the soil marks on their clothing. ‘Why don’t you take Rosie for a whirl?’

Fleance grabbed Rosie around the waist and dragged her into the light of the fire. Their hands found each other as they swung and danced to the music of Keavy’s lute. Too soon, the music stopped and they fell against each other, faces flushed and breathless with laughter.

The next morning, Rosie’s family were preparing to set off. Fleance felt a great ache at the thought of her leaving. ‘’Tis only a month, Flea. We’ll be back this way again soon,’ she said. But, for him, a month was too long. Rosie looked over at her father who was securing the load on their wagon. ‘My birthday is in two weeks,’ she whispered. ‘You might come and join the celebration. Da would be pleased with that.’

Dougal had climbed up on his wagon. ‘A month, then,
Magness
, before I return this way. Will you and Miri still be here?’

‘Aye,’ Magness replied. ‘We have much to keep us busy in these parts.’

‘Flea?’ Rosie asked.

‘Aye, I will be there,’ Fleance said.

Two days before Rosie’s birthday, Fleance asked permission from Magness to travel south on Willow to present her with his gift.

‘You know I have no legal right to tell you what you can and cannot do, lad,’ Magness said, stroking his beard. ‘But there are dangers out there you know little of. Men who would feed your mind with fancy stories of loyalties to the wrong side.’

‘But I’m well armed and skilled, Magness. And, I will keep to my own company on the journey.’

Magness frowned. ‘I can trust you to do that but I know not who will be in Dougal’s company. I would ride with you to make sure no harm came to you but I am needed here.’

Fleance felt a pressure below his ribs. He clenched his jaw to maintain control over his rising frustration. ‘Magness, I am a man, not a boy. I only ask for your blessing because . . .’ He stopped. Why was he asking?

As if understanding something Fleance could put no words to, Magness spoke for him. ‘Because you want to know if I find Rosie a good match for you. Am I right?’ Fleance nodded, the pressure subsiding as he saw Magness relenting. ‘Well, I can deal with you gone a few days but I want to know that you’ll be safely back with us soon.’

‘Aye,’ Fleance said, his heart racing. ‘She’s eighteen and I am . . .’ But what could he say?

Magness rescued him. ‘And, lad, she’s the one for you and you need to do this – am I right?’