*
The full moonwas creating a brilliant gray landscape just after midnight. Night birds sang and nocturnal creatures foraged in the fields below the great bastion of Harbottle. All was peaceful and still, a world away from the turmoil that had gripped them over the past few days.
Kenneth was on the battlements of Harbottle, his ice-blue eyes watching the landscape for a hint of threat. He had taken charge of the defenses with Tate and Stephen distracted with Mistress Toby and her dead sister, removing himself from emotion that was difficult for him to digest. Moreover, it was distracting them from the king’s mission. One of them had to remain focused and Kenneth decided it would be him. With Edward asleep inside the keep, Kenneth maintained vigilance for them all.
As he gazed out over the landscape, he heard footfalls down below in the bailey. A ladder that was ten feet away began to move slightly; he could see the wood shifting back and forth. As he watched, Tate mounted the last rung of the ladder and climbed onto the wall walk. He was without his armor, clearly not prepared for sentry duty. Kenneth remained silent as Tate walked up next to him and began scanning the silver landscape.
“No movement?” he asked quietly.
Kenneth shook his head. “Nothing, my lord. All is quiet.”
Tate nodded faintly, his storm cloud eyes still moving across the scenery. “Were you able to locate a suitable coffin for Ailsa?”
Kenneth crossed his big arms, his gaze scanning the landscape just as Tate was. It was a habit with them, always vigilant and aware of their surroundings. “Nothing that I would consider suitable so Wallace is building one,” he replied.
Tate lifted an eyebrow and looked at him. “He’s building one?”
“Aye. The man can do anything, you know. Even build a coffin. Perhaps he is doing it because he feels badly about the girl’s death.”
Tate pursed his lips. “Perhaps he is doing it to get back into my good graces. When will this receptacle be ready?”
“He said that he would work on it all night. It may not be the nicest coffin you have ever seen, but it will be well-made.”
Tate was silent a moment, pondering how in the world they were going to bury Ailsa without her sister going mad. “We’ll have to put her in Harbottle’s chapel for now,” he said quietly. “It is a tiny place. I have not surveyed it yet to determine if there is space.”
“I have,” Kenneth replied. “There is a length of ground in the corner near the altar. It should be suitable.”
“Very well,” Tate looked at Kenneth. “Thank you for your foresight in planning this arrangement. I have been else occupied.”
Kenneth nodded slowly, his ice-blue eyes fixed on Tate; he was the most stoic of the knights, rarely smiling and rarely voicing his opinion unless asked. He had a stronger sense of duty than most and had known Tate for many years. He had been present when Tate’s wife had passed away and remembered how the event nearly toppled the man. Although Kenneth made a habit of not forming friendships, his relationship with Tate was a rare exception. He greatly respected de Lara, the man who should have been king.
“It has been my pleasure, my lord,” Kenneth finally said after a moment. “And if I have not yet expressed my sympathies on the passing of Mistress Ailsa, then allow me to do so. Her death is a sorrowful thing.”
Tate nodded pensively. “I feel as if we have brought great doom upon Mistress Elizabetha’s head. I feel responsible for all of this somehow.”
Kenneth was used to Tate expressing his emotions; the man was in touch, and usually in control, with them. It was not an outlandish occurrence for Tate to speak what was in his heart or mind.
“It is not your fault,” Kenneth said frankly. “We could not have known what tragedies our association with Mistress Toby and her family would have brought.”
Tate drew in a long breath, pondering his words, knowing he was correct in theory. But it did not stop him from feeling the guilt. After a moment, he scratched his head and turned back for the ladder.
“I am going to check on Mistress Toby and then I am going to sleep for a couple of hours. Wake me before dawn; sooner if you need me.”
“I would not worry about Mistress Toby,” Kenneth told him. “Stephen is with her.”
Tate paused on the first rung of the ladder. “How do you know?”
“He was here a little while ago. As he left, he told me that he was going to check on her.”
“He is supposed to be with Ailsa.”
“There is nothing he can do for Ailsa.”
Tate took the first two rungs of the ladder before pausing. He looked up at Kenneth. “Tell me something, St. Héver, and be truthful.”
“I have never lied to you, my lord.”
“I did not mean that. I meant be truthful in your opinion.”
