“Nay, I’ve heard naught on this,” Uncle Jamie said.
Derric said, “The messenger said Robert believes he can be successful without it, but he’d like to have them available in case the Scots start to lose the battle. If so, King Robert wants us to be the final act, the grand show of lightning celebrating our win.”
“I’d like to bear witness to that myself,” Uncle Jamie said. “We can only hope he’s right.” He nodded to Derric and Dyna. “Stay, and we’ll decide who to send to King Robert with you. The others can leave, if you like.”
Maggie stood up and headed to the door. “I don’t think you’ll need Molly and me for anything else. We’ll stay one more night to help train before we take our leave back to Ramsay Castle to ready our group for Midsummer’s Day. Torrian, does this suit you?”
“Aye, I need to ensure our land is properly protected. We’re not far from Berwick Castle, so we should find out quickly if the English are on the move.”
Molly and Maggie left, and Chrissa had to hold back not to chase after them, just for the pleasure of training with them one more time, but she needed confirmation that she and Drostan would be allowed to travel to the king’s camp.
She had to know.
She needed to know for herself and for Drostan.
Her mother surprised her by getting right to the point. “So Dyna, you and Derric will head out, leave your two bairns here with your mother and Claray?”
“Aye,” Dyna said, glancing at her husband to see if he had anything to add.
“We’ll leave on the morrow,” Derric said. Glancing at Dyna, he added, “Your mama has already said she’ll watch the bairns. He turned to the lairds then. “Who shall we take with us? I leave it to you to choose.”
Chrissa’s heart beat so hard in her chest that she feared they could all hear it.
Uncle Connor named off several warriors, and the very last one he named was Drostan. That came as a relief, because she wouldn’t have to use any of the half-formed arguments she’d thought of to convince them to take him. Now, she only had to convince them to takeher. She tried hard to act disinterested, but that was a lie to everyone. They all knew how badly she wished to go, although she doubted they knew of her interest in Drostan.
Or perhaps they did. Hehadtried to punch Torrian.
Uncle Connor glanced at her mother and father, the silent question as obvious as if it had been spoken. Chrissa held her breath as she waited, saying a quick prayer that her mother would finally relent and allow her to do something meaningful.
It was time for her to make her own legacy.
Her father looked at her mother, who gave him a small nod before turning to face her. “Chrissa, we’ll allow you to go, but I’ll be giving Derric and Dyna strict instructions about watching you, and you’re not to cause any trouble. None. Do you agree? In fact, I’ll send extra warriors just in case you need to be sent home for not following orders, understood?”
“Hell, aye,” she blurted out, then turning a deep shade of red. She cleared her throat, doing her best to look sheepish over her outburst.
Her mother’s gaze narrowed again—a thinly veiled threat for all to see.
Grandsire remarked, “Kyla, I do think your daughter is mature enough to recognize that her part in this is to follow directions. She’ll act differently than she does on Grant land. If not, she’ll pay the price. Being captured or injured by the enemy is not something she wishes to risk. Is that not true, Chrissa?”
Chrissa blushed. She’d thought to say something more, to convince them she was serious, but Grandsire had said it all. They’d given her what she wanted—and she understood the dangers that lay ahead.
Then Grandsire surprised her with his last comment. “I’m sure you’ll keep King Robert entertained, Chrissa. But please do not embarrass us too much.”
She had no idea what he meant with that remark.
Chapter Ten
Maddie comes to him again…
Alex Grant was an old man. Beyond old. He knew his time was coming, but he didn’t fear death. Perhaps because he believed all of the dreams he shared with his dear wife were true. Some believed they were just creations of his mind, but he knew them for what they were—visions from heaven.
His dear Maddie was in heaven, but she came back to give him important advice when necessary. Whatever others chose to believe, no one could deny that whatever Madeline Grant told him came to fruition.
Alex moved around his chamber slowly as he prepared for bed, appreciative of all the tools his sons and daughters had crafted to make his life easier. At last, he climbed into bed and lay back, resting his head on the pillow and staring up at the beams overhead. He hadn’t seen Maddie in a while, so he wondered if she would visit him this night. Things in Scotlandwere heating up as they prepared for the onslaught of the English and King Edward II.
Suddenly, as if his mind really had conjured her—a talent he wished he had—there she was, standing in front of him in a white, translucent gown. She looked exactly as she had the day they married. “Was that not the gown you wore the night of our wedding?” He arched his brows at her, surprised to see her teasing him with such skin, her voluptuous curves glorious beneath the fabric.
Maddie glanced at her gown and waved a hand at him. “Oh, Alex, whatever I wear is a product of your memory. This must have been a favorite of yours, but you know it has naught to do with this visit.”
