“Then let’s pack, for we’re leaving before first light. My father wants us there quickly. Winter is setting in,” Kier told his servant.
“Why are we going to Glengorm?” Quin wanted to know.
Kier explained.
“Ah,” Quin replied. “Your da is giving you an excellent opportunity. He’s always favored you, sir. You’ll be the laird of Glengorm soon.”
“If the bairn born to the lady is a lad I’ll be his governor. He’ll be the laird,” Kier reminded his serving man.
Quin shook his head. “If the bairn is a lad he will have to be healthy and grow up, sir. Many bairns don’t. Some die in their first year. Others by the time they are five or so. Nay, sir, you’ll be laird of Glengorm.”
“Don’t wish bad fortune on the bairn or its mam,” Kier Douglas said. “Losing her husband has been tragedy enough for the lady.”
“She’ll be your wife and give you other bairns,” Quin said fatalistically.
“Pack everything,” his master said. “We’ll take a packhorse.”
The two men set about stowing all of Kier Douglas’s worldly possessions in a small trunk and several saddlebags. When they were finished Quin bundled his own few belongings into two saddlebags. He didn’t have enough to leave behind. The two men then slept briefly, rising as the full border moon spilled into Kier’s chamber. They dressed in warm clothing, and Quin woke another serving man who was sleeping in the hall to gather their luggage and bring it out into the courtyard of the house, to be loaded upon the packhorse and the two horses they would ride.
And while the two servants worked, Kier went down into the kitchens of his father’s house. He wrapped a small roasted chicken, some bread, and cheese in a napkin. When he had filled both theflasks the two men would carry with watered wine, he hurried back upstairs into the hall. There he stopped a moment, looking about the room where many happy hours of his childhood and youth had been spent. He pictured his stepmother in her chair by the fire, a small embroidery frame and needle in her hands. He saw his younger siblings playing near her. By birth he was bastard-born, but he had been fortunate never to know anything but love from his family. Turning, he left the hall.
In the courtyard the animals were packed and waiting. Quin was already mounted. Kier Douglas vaulted into his saddle and, without a word, turned his horse’s head, directing it from the courtyard. Quin, by his side, led the packhorse. The landscape about them had a light dusting of snow from several days past. The full moon reflected off of it, making the track they followed quite clear. They rode for several hours, finally stopping to rest the horses and eat their scant provisions at dawn.
They sheltered by a cairn, sitting with their backs to the stones while their animals browsed, using their hooves to scrape away the thin covering of snow so they might get to the grasses below. Kier opened the napkin, tearing the chicken in half and handing half of it along with half of the bread to Quin. He sliced the cheese into two wedges, and handed one to his servant. They ate silently, sipping from their flasks now and again. All was silence about them, but then as the sun began to peep over the eastern horizon a few birds began twittering and calling. The two men stood up, brushing crumbs from their breeks and cloaks. Then, turning, they simultaneously relieved themselves before fetching the horses and watering them at the little stream that bordered the clearing where they had stopped to eat and rest.
They continued on their way, and then in early afternoon a small party of horsemen came towards them. The man leading them wore a length of gray-black-and-white plaid across his chest and shoulder. He hailed the two riders from Drumlanrig. “Would you be Sir William Douglas’s son?” the man asked them.
“Who would know?” Kier asked, watching the man and his companions carefully.
“I’m Frang Douglas from Glengorm, my lord. We’ve been watching for you, for our mistress said you would probably come today. You’re on Glengorm lands now, and I bid you welcome. We’re relieved to have had Sir William send you to us.”
“I am Kier Douglas, Frang, and no ‘my lord.’ Just Sir William’s by-blow. But my father was concerned for Glengorm, with both my cousins dead and the lady not yet delivered of her bairn. How far do we have to go?”
“An hour, my lord, no more. The lady has instructed that as you are to have charge of Glengorm you will be addressed as ‘my lord.’ For all she’s English she’s a good lass, and has pretty manners,” Frang noted.
Kier smiled a brief smile. “I will respect the lady, and see to her care,” he said.
“Of course you will, my lord,” Frang said. “You are Sir William’s get. You will know your duty to the family.”
Kier was rather amused by this pronouncement but said nothing more, and they rode onwards. The countryside about them was desolate. There wasn’t a dwelling in sight. “Where do your folk live?” he asked Frang.
“In the village below the hall,” came the reply.
“There is livestock?” Kier questioned the man further.
“Aye, my lord, but in the winter enclosures near the barns. When the snows come we bring them in for safety’s sake,” Frang explained.
Kier nodded. It was well thought-out. “Cattle? Sheep?” he inquired.
“Both, my lord, but more cattle,” Frang answered him.
Kier had no more questions for now. They rode on in silence until at last they came to Glengorm. The house stood dark on its little rise. It wasn’t particularly large, but it looked sturdy enough, and had several chimneys from which smoke curled lazily up into the coldafternoon air. There was a stable near the house, and a lad ran out to take the horses as Kier and Quin dismounted.
A servant came up to him. “Welcome, my lord. I am Tam. I will take you to the hall. My lady has been expecting your arrival.”
“When you have brought me to her,” Kier said, “help my servant, Quin, with my belongings, and see they are taken to my chamber. I do have a chamber, don’t I?”
Tam grinned. “Aye, my lord, you have a chamber. There are several for sleeping above the hall. This way, please.” He led Kier to the entrance of the hall. “The lady awaits, my lord. I’ll return and help your man.”
