She ignored her husband’s words, and held the hard gaze of the leader of the Bruce’s men. “I will kiss my husband farewell. Ye have greedily helped yourself to all of value in Dubheilrig. I willnae let ye steal that too.”
“He is a traitor,” the man snapped.
“He is my husband and the father of my unborn child. Iwillkiss him farewell.” She flicked a glance at the man’s hand, which rested on the hilt of his sword. “If ye feel ye must draw your sword against a wee lass weighted and awkward with a full belly, then so be it.”
He spit a curse and began to move away. “And am I to let every woman do the same?” He nodded to a point just behind Jennet.
Following his gaze, she was not surprised to see Serilda just behind her. “ ’Tis his mother.”
She stepped over to Hacon and reached up to place her hand over his clenched, bound fists. She used her hold there to help stretch up on her toes even as Hacon bent toward her. The gently sweet kiss that they exchanged made her feel like weeping, but she clung to her strength. She refused to send Hacon off with tears of defeat on her cheeks.
“Ye are mad, lass,” he murmured after briefly exchanging a kiss with his mother. “Ye should distance yourself from me—as swiftly and as completely as you can.”
“Whilst ye are dragged down by these lies? Nay, I think not. I willnae let Balreaves win.”
“Dearling, think of our child.”
“I am. God go with you, Hacon,” she whispered, and walked away, afraid her pose of calm was crumbling.
“Mother,” Hacon called, halting Serilda from immediately following. “Watch over her.”
“Ye ken verra weel that I will.”
“She may try something. Aye, Ikenshe will. She must think of our child now—not me.”
“Ye worry about yourself. I will take care of Jennet.”
Hacon silently cursed as he watched his mother hurry after his wife. He was not sure his mother understood his warning. Or worse, he thought as he was led away, perhaps his mother completely understood, understood and was willing to aid Jennet. He prayed that they would not do anything dangerous, that common sense would finally prevail.
As soon as the Bruce’s men were out of sight, Jennet ordered the men of Dubheilrig to be set free. She watched as they stumbled out of the cottage, among them Lucais, who immediately embraced his wife. Ranald and Dugald were both pale, a fury born of their own helplessness twisting their features.
“Sir Lucais,” Jennet finally said when no one else spoke up, “I think some of Dubheilrig’s men should follow.”
“To try and free Hacon?” Lucais’s voice revealed his doubts over such a plan.
“Nay, that would serve little purpose. ’Twould mark Hacon—and mayhaps all of Dubheilrig’s people—as outlaws. That would also add strength to the false charges against him. Nay, I but thought some men should follow to ensure that Hacon reaches the Bruce’s court alive. Remember who has placed the charges against him.”
“Balreaves,” Lucais spat, as if merely saying the name had soiled his mouth. “He failed to murder Hacon with his hirelings and twice-cursed curs. Now he seeks to get the king himself to do the deed.”
“Aye, but he may not wish to give Hacon any chance to speak. Balreaves has been verra clever, but he kens his accusations are all lies. Despite having made the king believe these lies, Balreaves may not trust fully in his plan ending as he wishes.”
“Child, once the charge is made—”
“’Tis considered truth. Serilda told me that. I understand and believe it. Howbeit, can Balreaves afford to believe it? What if by some sweet miracle, Hacon sheds this black charge? Then all eyes would turn to Balreaves, and people more powerful than he would begin to ask why. He has built a lie that must hold firm. His lie must work for him, gain him all he seeks, or ’twill turn against him.”
Lucais stared at his son’s wife, a little surprised at how astutely she reasoned. She was pale and clearly terrified for Hacon, yet she understood the situation with a clarity that had not yet come to him. Her understanding of Balreaves’s deviousness, of the contorted politics involved, was very sound.
“Balreaves could find,” he murmured, “that the sword he has placed at Hacon’s throat is suddenly being held at his own.”
“Exactly,” Jennet agreed. “Balreaves cannae help but think of Hacon’s long years of loyal service. He cannae help but fear that some of Hacon’s friends may gain the courage to speak up in Hacon’s favor. This liemusthold firm and one way, one sure way, to see that it does is to see Hacon dead while he is still marked as a traitor.”
“Dugald,” Lucais ordered, “find what horses or ponies ye can.”
“There are some grazing on the far side of the loch,” one man said. “Ponies mostly.”
“Take a few men and gather them up.” Then Lucais returned his attention to Dugald. “Ye arenae to draw too near to the Bruce’s men. Make no threatening moves. Ye are only to watch to ensure that my son reaches Stirling, or wherever else they may take him, alive. Since ye are Hacon’s men, ’twould be best if ye approach the court itself unarmed. Ye must not be seen to present any threat. Once at the king’s court, ye are to stay there to watch o’er Hacon and send whatever news there might be back here to Dubheilrig.”
“Aye. I may even be able to find men who will speak up for Hacon.”
