The Honor Due a King Read Free Page B

vigor fades like fallen leaves, wisdom takes root and grows, courage is replaced by caution, and hope yields to doubt.
    The day was nearly gone – and still they were not with me. Whatever made me believe that today would be any different than yesterday, or the many years before that?
    “You could have gone on with Randolph, Ralph,” I said, my voice raspy with fatigue. “Been on your way home by now.”
    He scratched beneath the neck of his mail coif so that it shifted and sat lopsided on his head. “But my lord, I have rather enjoyed being in your company. Do you treat all your prisoners so well?”
    “Only my friends. I have never forgotten what you did for me. Longshanks would have staked my head on London Bridge had you not warned me in time.” My chin sank to my chest. Being in this place, it was as if the weight of all my wrongs were about to smother me. “I am so ... so sorry about ...”
    Shifting on his feet, Ralph nodded. “Gilbert was a fine soldier. As good a son as any stepson ever was. I wish you could have known him better. You would have liked him well. You were on different sides, that is all. Men die in battle. He was one of them. I hold no grudge on you, Robert. You’re a good man. A good king.”
    “You’re the first Englishman to call me that.”
    “‘King’ ... or ‘good’?”
    “Either. Stay as long as you like, Ralph. Forever, if you care to. I’ll see to it that you’re comfortable and cared for. I do imagine it has already been a thorn under King Edward’s saddle that you’ve been in Scotland so long, since I put no ransom on your head. You’re a free man. Stay or go, as you please.”
    A gust of wind blew in as the front doors swung fully open and men began to come in.
    Ralph readjusted the bothersome edge of his mail coif again. “I’d like to dry out by a fire for now, m’lord. I do want to stay, share stories in your hall some more, but with Gilbert gone there will be business to attend to in Gloucester. He has children and a wife that need looking after.” He sniffed. His lips were blue and every vein on his face stood out starkly. Ralph was two decades my senior and still he had gone to battle at the bidding of his king. If I felt old myself, one look at him and I ceased my complaining.
    “A fire first, though,” I said. “And a decent night’s rest. I’ll give you an escort to Berwick on the morrow.” I looked toward the door, where the clop of hooves caught my ears. “Ah, Walter, here!”
    Walter Stewart led my gray pony toward me, casting glances left and right as he did so.
    James strode beside them and shook his head in disbelief. “If it’s a blessing you want for the beast, my lord, I’m guessing the abbot would prefer to meet you outside for this occasion.”
    “Hear?” I put an ear to the great beast’s ribs. “There’s a rattle in his chest. He needs to be dried off. Then I want the warmest place for Coll you can find.”
    “Coll?” James gave me a quizzical look. The pony, whose head had been hanging low until then, perked his ears at the name and lifted his muzzle. “Wasn’t that the name of your dog?”
    “A name befitting the bravest of creatures, mind you.” Seven years ago, while we had been lying in wait above the road to Cumnock for an approaching column of English led by the Earl of Pembroke, the Lord of Lorne’s forces threatened to entrap us. I divided my men and soon found myself being trailed by my own dog, Coll. To silence the hound, I had been forced to put an arrow through his heart. In doing so, I had demanded the ultimate sacrifice of my loyal companion: his life. There had been no alternative. The pony turned his head to gaze at me through a black fringe of eyelashes. I reached out and stroked his nose. “This one carried me through Bannockburn. I’ll not lose him to neglect.”
    “The stables are down closer to the river,” Walter said, “by the pastures there.”
    “Too far. He’ll stay here until the rain