“Come on,” one of them said to the other, nodding toward the door.“The walls have ears.”
They left while Adam appeared to continue obliviously polishing his sword.
Mad thoughts, however, churned through his brain.
Could what they said be true?
The king had been less than forthcoming about his advances.
Was it as the men claimed?Had Malcolm attacked Fergus women and children?Burned crops?Decimated villages?
The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.While the Rivenlochs had always been loyal to the king, they had never condoned unchivalrous warfare.And Adam knew they wouldn’t condone it now.
He was torn.
He couldn’t live with himself if those villages had been destroyed because of information he’d shared with Malcolm.
And yet he couldn’t commit treason against the Crown by withholding information from the king that might get his troops killed.
He needed to talk to Malcolm, face to face.Get him to disclose his next plan of attack.And report back to Fergus with an early alert.
With forewarning, at least someone would be there for defense.There might be a brief skirmish, but fewer casualties, and there would time to evacuate innocents.
Adam hoped the two sides could ultimately settle things without a battle.The Rivenloch clan was always happy to defend Scotland against foreign invaders.But they hated to get involved in clan wars.
Unfortunately, it sounded as if Fergus’s commanders had had no success in curbing their laird’s appetite for land.
Perhaps Adam could convince the king it was a mistake to make an enemy of England, particularly in light of his recent friendship with King Henry.And then he might be able to persuade Fergus to relinquish the idea of expanding his holdings and instead be grateful for the full return of his ancestral clan lands.
The negotiation would be a complex undertaking.But Adam was sure he was the best Rivenloch for the task.
In the shelter of the trees just outside the convent, Eve quickly changed out of her archery garb and into her habit.
She figured her encounter with the royal guard who’d followed her to the alehouse might have been by chance.But now she’d seen two more.That could only mean the king himself was near.
Was he looking for her?Surely not.He had far more important things to do.And yet…
As she strode through the gates of the convent, Sister Eithne rushed across the cloister.
“Och, Sister Eve!”she said by way of greeting.“Have ye heard?”
“Heard what?”
“The news,” she said, eagerly wiggling her thick brows.
Eve didn’t have the patience for this.Not today.The only thing Sister Eithne liked to cook up more than her famous pottage was scandal.“News or rumor?”
“News.”She drew close to confide, “The abbess got it from Sister Mary, who got it from Friar John, who got it from the nuns at the convent near Glasgow, who heard it from an abbot—”
“Fine,” Eve said, biting back impatience.“The news?”
The cloister was empty except for the two of them.Nonetheless, Sister Eithne paused to survey the space, making sure no one was listening.
“’Tis the king,” she whispered.
Now she had Eve’s attention.“The king?”
Sister Eithne nodded.“He’s comin’.”
