“He’ll kill me, ye know,” Fergus muttered.
Adam told him the truth.“Ye’re too valuable to kill.”
“I should have known ye were a traitor.”
He probablyshouldhave at least suspected it.Hiring mercenaries was risky.
As they drew closer, Fergus tried to bargain.“What is it ye want?Coin?Land?A title?”
“Peace,” Adam told him.“I want peace.”
He stopped near the first pavilion.Reaching into his hauberk with his free hand, he withdrew the linen square and waved it high.
Then he called out, “Your Grace, Laird Fergus of Galloway wishes to surrender.”
Fergus sputtered at that, but he dared do no more, not with a blade at his throat.
Royal guards immediately emerged from the pavilions.The king was summoned from bed to greet his adversary.
Fergus denied having surrendered.He refused to swear loyalty to Malcolm.With false bravado, he said his whole clan would rather burn inside the keep than bow before a maiden king.
Fortunately, Malcolm took the insult in stride.He could see Fergus was in his cups.He was magnanimous in return.He told Fergus none of his clansmen would be harmed, and his keep would remain intact.
Adam suspected the royal army was less than happy about that.They probably wished to fire their new trebuchet at least once.
In the end, the king was pleased.He’d won a bloodless battle.Behaved chivalrously.Lost no men.And the thorn in his side, Fergus of Galloway, had been extracted.
Indeed, Malcolm was so grateful for Adam’s help that the next morn he offered him a purse of silver for his trouble.
Adam’s first instinct was to refuse.He didn’t like the idea of blood money.
But then he remembered the alewife, her husband, their alehouse, and how distraught Eve had been over the injustice.So he accepted the coin and pledged to seek out the impoverished couple.They would get the recompense they deserved.
He only wished he could tell Eve.But there was no way to determine where she’d gone.And by now, the trail was cold.
Unless…
He marched to the pavilion of the king’s physician and whipped open the flap.The physician was there, bandaging a soldier’s hand.Glancing up and seeing Adam’s glare, he finished up and sent the man on his way.
“You,” Adam said.“What do you know about the hostage?”
The physician washed his hands in a basin of water.“The nun?”
“Aye.”
The physician eyed Adam as if he wondered whether he could trust him.Then he murmured, “I don’t think she was a spy.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye.I think shewasa nun.”
Adam didn’t give his opinion much credit.“Spies are skilled at mimicry.She was very good.”
“What she did was beyond mimicry.”
“What do you mean?”
“She saved a man’s life.”
