Authors: Bertrice Small
Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Romance, #Historical, #General
“There are many faithful priests in villages and keeps like ours all over Scotland who practice what they preach,” Father David spoke up.
“Aye, good Father, there are, but it is difficult to see the humble among us when the powerful are blatant in their actions,” the earl answered.
“So we are going to war because King Henry is bored right now?” Maggie said.
“Henry Tudor is a man of strong principles. While perhaps not always right in the eyes of the world, he is firm in his own beliefs and behavior,” the earl told her. “He would have his nephew listen to his council. When James will not, he believes the French are influencing him through the queen. Remember that one of her brothers is a cardinal of the church—a church that King Henry will no longer allow to exert its authority in England.”
“So we will all suffer for the intransigence of these kings,” Maggie said slowly. “I dinna like it, my lord. Nor will any woman in Scotland. How many women and bairns will be killed to satisfy the bloodlust of these men? Nay, it is ridiculous.”
“I think yer wife is right,” the Earl of Huntly said to Fin. “And ye are wise not to have answered the king’s call to arms. Many have not.”
“We received no call to arms here at Brae Aisir,” Fin said. “Had my kinsman called, I would have answered.”
“Yer fortunate to be here in this place then, for the call obviously did not reach ye, my lord. It was sent all over Scotland two months ago,” George Gordon said.
Maggie knew what was coming. She jumped to her feet and shouted, “
Nay!
Ye were not called, and ye will not go, Fingal Stewart. Ye have responsibilities here.”
“The earl says all of Scotland was called, and shame on those who have not answered,” Fin responded. “I will not shame my family’s name by ignoring this.”
“And I will not be widowed nor allow yer sons to be orphaned because yer a romantic fool,” Maggie raged at him. “Will this bairn I now carry even know his father? And if I lose you, will I be pressed into marriage again because it is believed a woman cannot manage the Aisir nam Breug? Ye cannot go!”
“Madam, we have an important guest at our board. We will quarrel later,” Fin said to her. “Yer with child again?”
“If ye leave me to partake in this foolishness, there will be no later, my lord,” Maggie said, furious. “I have a bad feeling about this venture.” She turned to the earl. “Tell him he must not go, my lord. He is needed here. Why should he go when others will not?” Her eyes had now filled with tears as she added, “Aye, I’m with child again.”
“My lady,” the earl replied, “a man’s honor is above all else. Yer husband is an honorable man. Now that he knows his kinsman’s need, he will answer his call. It can be no other way, else the Stewarts of Torra be dishonored. I will not tell him nay.”
Mad Maggie Kerr, who had never in her life wept publicly, now burst into tears. She threw down her napkin, stepped down from the high board, and, sobbing, ran from the hall.
“Shame on ye for making her unhappy, and in her condition,” Grizel said from her place at the trestle directly below the high board. She got up and hurried after her mistress.
“Breeding women,” the earl said with a smile. “I’ve seen my own wife behave much the same in her time. Yer lady will calm herself. But, Fingal, if indeed ye received no summons, then ye could remain at Brae Aisir, and none would fault ye. It is possible that because of the sensitivity of the pass, the king did not send to ye. Yer honor must decide.”
“Yet he sent ye to suggest we close it,” Fin said. “Nay, I must answer the king’s call even if others do not. I know he is a difficult man, and sometimes cruel. The incident with the Countess of Glamis was more like his uncle Henry. But he has seen the laws of our land enforced to the gratitude of the commons, and he has kept us prosperous. I should not have my wife and this responsibility were it not for my royal kinsman. My family has ever been faithful to the kingly Stewarts. I will not bring shame upon us by ignoring the royal summons to arms now I have learned of it. I’ll show ye the pass tomorrow. Then I will gather my men, and we will follow ye into the king’s service.”
“God knows I’ll welcome any men you can bring. My force is small. I have scarce two thousand men at my command,” George Gordon told Lord Stewart.
“I can probably gather no more than thirty,” Fin replied. “I can’t leave the keep undefended, given the current situation. Brae Aisir is usually safe, but in times like these, ye never really know. A small war party breaking away from a large one could cause us some serious damage. But I will ride with my men.”
“And I will be here to see to our defenses, should it be necessary,” Dugald Kerr said. “Iver can go with ye, and Clennon will remain with us. And dinna fret over Maggie. She’ll calm down and see reason in time.”
But while Maggie did compose herself, by the time Fin reached their bedchamber that night, she was not happy at all that he would leave them. “The king should be defending his kingdom,” she said, “but instead he sends the Earl of Huntly to do it for him, and he expects ye to leave yer family at his whim.”
“I cannot refuse a summons to defend our land,” Fin told her. “Besides, if it comes to more than border raiding, James will be in the forefront of the battle. He is no coward, Maggie mine. But ever since his mother died the past autumn, the English king has used every excuse he can find to break the peace.”
“Convince the earl not to close the Aisir nam Breug,” Maggie said to her husband.
“If it comes to real war, there will be no traffic anyway, but if it just remains border raids, then we’ll have more traffic going in both directions. I think I’ll ride with ye tomorrow.”
“Are ye up to it?” he asked cautiously, knowing to suggest she was frail would bring a furious outburst.
“Aye, I am. With each confinement ye and Grandsire grow less restrictive with me. I’m no more than three months gone. I can still ride astride. It’s a lass this time,” Maggie said to her husband.
“How can ye be certain?” he asked, curious as to her intuition.
“It’s nothing like when I carried Davy and Andrew,” Maggie told him. “I’ve barely been sick at all. ’Tis a lass, I’m certain, and I’ll name her Annabelle.”
“As long as she is as sweet natured as her mother I’ll be satisfied,” Fin said.
“I’ll not let her be one of those sit-by-the-fire-and-sew lasses,” Maggie responded. “She’s going to learn how to ride, and how to use a claymore.”
“Will the man who weds her one day have to outride, outrun, and outfight her?” Fin teased his wife.
“Nay,” Maggie said, her tone softening, “but I don’t want our daughter helpless to any man when she is a grown woman. I want her to be able to survive on her own if she must. No woman should be helpless without her man.”
“Certainly no border woman,” he agreed.
The following morning, Fin and Maggie rode out with the Earl of Huntly to show him the Aisir nam Breug. When George Gordon saw the watchtowers above the pass, he was extremely impressed. But when Maggie brought him to the stone thistle markers just before the border with England, she revealed to him the secret of the Aisir nam Breug.
“Ye can see watchtowers on the hillside above each of these markers. This morning messengers rode along each side of the hills, warning our men in each of these little redoubts of the possible war to come, of the battles that have taken place this summer in the eastern Borders. Should an armed party be seen within the pass, the fronts of these large stone markers would be pulled away to release a great torrent of stones that would block the pass, making it impossible to get through. Our kin, the Netherdale Kerrs, have a similar means of protection in place. That is why our markers are a full mile from the true border itself. But above the place delineating the real border are towers, and they would sound the alarm so those above the markers could get to them in time to block the Aisir nam Breug to invaders.”
“Have ye ever had to use this system to protect yourselves?” the earl asked.
“Only once. In the time of King Edward the First, who was called the Hammer of the Scots, was it necessary to block the pass; but not since then,” Maggie told him.
“Then I see no reason to arouse your English relations’ suspicions by closing the pass,” the Earl of Huntly said. “Ye have it as well protected as ye can, and ’tis unlikely anyone will attempt to breach it.”
“I am told a number of English died the day they tried to come through, for the Kerr clansmen shot at them from their towers,” Maggie said proudly. “I wish we could have a small cannon or two to add to our defense, but if we did, it’s quite likely that Edmund Kerr, the Lord of Netherdale, would consider it a hostile act,” she said with a chuckle.
They returned to Brae Aisir, and the following day the Earl of Huntly, Lord Stewart, and their men departed for Jedburgh, where the earl was quartering his small force. Maggie was not happy to see her husband go, but she stood dry-eyed at his stirrup, offering him a last cup for good fortune. She had managed to get him to take Clennon Kerr’s fifteen-year-old nephew, Ian Kerr, with him to act as his messenger. Ian would ride back and forth, bringing Brae Aisir word of what was happening.
George Gordon attempted to reassure her. “It’s October, madam, and the English always go home before the snows come.”
“I can hope yer correct, my lord, and my husband is home by Christ’s Mass,” Maggie told the earl. “Godspeed to ye, sir.”
He thanked her for her hospitality, then turned to lead his men from the courtyard of the keep.
Fingal Stewart leaned down from his stallion, lifting Maggie up so he might kiss her a final time. It was almost their undoing, for while duty bade him go, for the first time in his life Fin was not eager for battle. He tasted the sweetness of her mouth, felt the single tear on her cheek, and kissed it away before setting her back on her feet. “I’ll come back to ye, Maggie mine. If they do not say I’m dead and bring my body home to ye, I will return to ye, and to Brae Aisir. Trust in my word.”
“I will!” she told him.
He moved his horse to stop before the nursemaids, who were each holding up one of his sons for his blessing, and gave it to them. Davy, now four, wanted to be taken up on his father’s beast, but Fin told the lad nay, for he was off to fight the king’s war. Then he turned the stallion about and cantered off to catch up with the earl and their men. Maggie watched him go until all that was left to see was a small cloud of dust.
That night she sat with her grandfather in the hall. “We’ll need to double the watch immediately,” she began.
“Get the cattle and sheep in from the far pastures,” he told her.
“Ye think the troubles will come this way?” Maggie asked him.
“These things always boil over and spread themselves out. If we’re fortunate, we’ll escape being raided, but there is no guarantee,” the laird said.
“I’d better institute an alarm for all to recognize should the English come our way,” Maggie said. “I’ll put men to watch out on the hills, and the villagers can take refuge in the keep should they have to do so. I’ll have the miller grind what grain he has, and we’ll store it within the keep. Whatever happens, we have to be able to feed our folk this winter. The hunting has been good this year. The larder is filling.”
For the next few days the village and the keep prepared for the worst should it come. On the twenty-eighth of October, Ian Kerr rode into the keep with news. The English had departed Berwick-upon-Tweed where they had been waiting. They had advanced into the Borders, burning Kelso Abbey and Roxburgh Tower to the ground before returning to Berwick. The Earl of Huntly with a little more than two thousand men had been forced to remain where he was, for the English force was twenty-thousand strong. George Gordon wasn’t going to allow a slaughter of good Scotsmen. Fingal, Iver, and their men were safe. Ian Kerr departed the next day back to join Fin and their men.
A peddler who came at least twice a year to Brae Aisir arrived from Jedburgh.
He was in a great hurry to get through the Aisir nam Breug and back into England, for he did not wish to be caught in any war between Henry and James. But he had more information to share. The Duke of Norfolk, King Henry’s commander, had returned to Berwick. It was said he had not the supplies to support a longer campaign. And King Henry had declared war officially and renewed England’s centuries-old claim to Scotland.
“God help us all,” Grizel said as she listened.
The peddler hurried off the next morning through the Aisir nam Breug.
The late-year traffic picked up as merchants from England, and from other countries that did business in Scotland, now sought to escape any coming warfare. But they garnered a great deal of news from these men. King James believed that the Duke of Norfolk meant to attack Edinburgh, and he commanded a general mobilization. With a force of twelve thousand men, and some artillery, the king led his forces south. But the English had gone back over the border to Berwick. The weather was beginning to worsen. Supplies were short. James had his men stand down, and returned to Edinburgh to consider what he would do next. False information was spread for the benefit of the many English spies in Scotland. It appeared the king would strike in the southeast; yet a second army appeared to be forming in the west. And then there were no more travelers to pass through the Aisir nam Breug, and all grew silent.
It was now November. Ian Kerr returned once again to Brae Aisir to tell them the king had ordered a muster at Lauder on the twentieth of November. Ian told them that Lord Stewart had said he was to remain at the keep and not return. Clennon Kerr was grim faced when his nephew spoke. He knew there was to be a battle, and Fin didn’t want any harm coming to the lad.
And then on the thirtieth of November, as they celebrated St. Andrew’s Day, the watch on the keep’s height called down that a small party of horsemen was approaching Brae Aisir. As there seemed not enough of them to be a raiding party, the alarm was not rung. The horsemen came closer, and they recognized their own people. Iver Leslie led them, and there were several horses being led that carried bodies.