“Not so old that I can’t appreciate a pretty lass, or give her pleasure, lad. I hope you’ll have the same good fortune when you reach my age.” His father chuckled. “Now speak to me of Elizabeth Meredith, for you have said so little of her.”
“She is a tall girl, and slender, but rounded also,” Baen began. “Her hair is like golden thistledown, and her eyes are a hazel-green. She has a little nose, but slim. And a mouth that was surely made for kissing. She is wise, and her people love her. She loves the land too, Da, with a passion I am almost jealous of but that she loved me the same way too. But Elizabeth is stubborn, and she can be determined beyond anyone I have ever known. I can well believe she was prepared to raise our child alone, for she has no fear of anyone or anything except perhaps the Lord God.”
“I am sorry then that I shall never meet her,” Colin Hay said. “She sounds like a most worthy young woman. I can hear in your voice how much you love her, Baen. But do not allow her to overrule you, lest that love be killed.”
“It will take time to regain her trust,” Baen said slowly, “but I believe her love for me has not wavered.”
“You will soon know, but for good or evil she is now your wife,” his father answered. And then Colin Hay stood up. “I’m going to bed,” he announced.
“Will you see us off in the morning?” Baen asked his father. “We leave at dawn.”
“Aye,” the master of Grayhaven told his son. “I will see you off.” Then he turned abruptly and left the hall.
Baen watched him go. He sighed, and then he too departed the hall to find his bed, for the dawn would come sooner than later. And it did. It seemed to him he had scarce laid his head down when Jamie was shaking him awake. Groaning, he pulled himself from the bed in the chamber he and his brothers had shared. Jamie was a morning person, but Gilly was not. Swearing under his breath, he muttered at his brother for waking him so soon.
“Baen will be leaving,” Jamie explained. “Do ye not want to bid our brother farewell? Will we ever see him again? Get up!”
Baen listened to them squabbling back and forth as he washed, scraping the beard from his face, for Elizabeth liked him clean-shaven. It would be many days before he saw her, but he was already eager for the sight of her. He ran the wooden comb through his unruly locks, then pulled on the rest of his garments, dressing warmly, for the ride would be a long one today, and who knew where they would shelter this night. Then, his brothers trailing in his wake, Baen hurried down into the hall.
The servants were already bringing the meal to the board. Trenchers of fresh-baked bread filled with hot oat stirabout. A platter of ham, poached eggs, cottage loaf, butter, and a sweet berry jam. Logan Hepburn and Lord Cambridge entered the hall to join them. There was yet no sign of Colin Hay. They ate heartily, quaffing down mugs of ale along with their food. And when they had finished, the master of Grayhaven came into the hall, dressed for riding.
“I’ll go with you a few miles to the edge of my lands,” he said. “I ate earlier.”
“Then we’d best get started,” Baen responded, touched that his father would ride with him. “I’ll see to the loading of the lambs into the cart.”
“I’ll help,” Gilbert Hay said.
Within a short time they were ready. Several shepherds would go with them as far as the borderlands. A messenger would be sent ahead so that when they arrived there would be Friarsgate men waiting to take over. It would be many days, however, before they got there. Baen bade his brothers a tender farewell, embracing them each a final time.
“Now you can be certain ’tis all yours,” he murmured to James.
“You knew?” James Hay was surprised.
“I would have felt the same way if our positions had been reversed; but had I remained here, Jamie, my loyalty would have always been to Da, and then you,” Baen told him. “Now you’re the eldest.”
“You’re a good man,” James Hay said, “and while I always knew it...” He paused.
Baen nodded, then turned to his youngest brother. “Now, youngster, I expect you to behave yourself, obey our da, and Jamie when his counsel is good. Try not to spread your seed about too much, for I know how much you like the lasses, and that you are already a father several times over,” he teased.
“I don’t want you to go,” Gilbert Hay said in a muffled voice. There had never been a time in his sixteen years when Baen hadn’t been there for him.
“You’re not Da. Come down into England and see me,” Baen told the lad. Then he hugged him hard.
Gilbert Hay nodded, and then, turning, he ran off before they could see him cry. James Hay stood quietly as the men mounted their horses. He raised his hand in farewell as they moved off. The flock of sheep and the wagon carrying the lambs had already gone ahead. He watched as they rode slowly away, smiling as Baen turned once to raise his own hand to salute his brother. James looked relieved, Baen thought, smiling. As if he could not be certain his oldest brother was gone until he had seen him ride off.
They were fortunate in the weather, for spring was coming. They managed to leave the Highlands behind after several long days of travel. There was no new snow to impede their progress, although one day they traveled in an icy mist for hours. Lord Cambridge, usually amusing, was not that day. At the boundary of his lands Colin Hay bade them a final farewell. He embraced his son one last time, and there were tears in his eyes. Then, with a nod, he turned and rode away. He would never again speak to anyone of the son he had sired on a cotter’s daughter one summer’s afternoon in the fragrant heather. The memories of Baen would always be painful to him, for he loved this eldest son of his, bastard or not, best of all. But his conscience was clear, for Baen would now have a good life. “You’d be proud of him, Tora,” he said softly as he rode away.
The travelers were both careful and fortunate in their accommodations, staying at either religious houses or farmhouses each night. Their generous donations, paid in advance, assured their welcome, allowing them to keep the flocks safe. Each evening when they stopped they would unload the lambs from the cart. The little creatures would scamper off, bleating for their mothers and, finding them, settle down to suckle contentedly. They crossed from the east side of Scotland to the west as they traveled south towards England.
And then finally the terrain began to look more familiar to Logan Hepburn. “We’re on my lands now,” he said suddenly one afternoon as they rode.
“Dear boy, how can you tell?” Lord Cambridge wanted to know. This had probably been the worst adventure he had ever undertaken, and he silently vowed that other than an occasional trip to Friarsgate he would not ever travel again. Never in his life had he been so dirty. Never in his life had his garments stunk so completely. “Are we near Claven’s Carn?” he asked hopefully.
“It will be near dark, but aye, we can reach it by nightfall,” the laird of Claven’s Carn said, and he smiled. Rosamund. His warm and loving wife would be waiting. He would sleep in his own bed at long last. He was flea-bitten from the bedding they had been offered in their travels. He preferred the warmer months, when a man could sleep on the moors on the sweet grass or in the fragrant heather. Raising a hand, he signaled to one of his clansmen, who rode up next to his chieftain. “Ride ahead, and tell the lady Rosamund that we will be home for supper,” he said.
The clansman nodded, and then rode off.
Logan turned to Baen. “Tomorrow we’ll ride on to Friarsgate. The shepherds can come more slowly. It’s important you and Elizabeth settle your differences as soon as possible. The bairn should be born happy.”
