“‘Sir Nigel and Sir Neil valiantly defended Kildrummy Castle, but it fell on the tenth of September,’” she read. “‘There was treachery from within the castle, Margaret, otherwise, perhaps they might have triumphed over Aymer.’”
He then changed the topic, inquiring about her well-being, and ended by saying that there was word in Scotland that Bruce would return, and he expected a resumption of the war in the spring.
Margaret was horrified, and she stared at Alexander, mistakenly crumpling the page in her hand, she held it so tightly.
“The women were not there, Margaret.”
She choked in relief. “How is that possible?”
“They never went to Kildrummy. Sir Neil and Sir Nigel were left behind to defend the castle, while the women fled north with Atholl.”
Kildrummy had been besieged, but the queen, Isabella and the other women had not been there. For that, she was thankful. But there was no relief. “Sir Neil? Sir Nigel?”
Alexander hesitated.
They were dead, she thought, suddenly faint.
“They were caught and hanged. Margaret, dinna ask me for the details.” He put his arms around her.
She wanted to weep and scream. Her beautiful Sir Neil had been hanged. And Sir Nigel, Bruce’s handsome, courageous brother, had been hanged with him!
“This is war, Margaret. Men die in war.”
She pulled back and looked up at Alexander, sick with anguish, but furious, too. “If there is more bad news, you must tell me. Now! Is the queen hidden safely? Is Isabella?”
He studied her for a moment, and then he slipped away.
“Alexander!” she screamed, already knowing his answer.
He paced past her and closed the shutters. “It is truly cold in here.”
“What happened to them!”
He slowly faced her. “They sought sanctuary at St. Duthac. They were all captured, Margaret. They are King Edward’s prisoners.”
Tears flooded her eyes. “What will he do to them?” she managed to ask.
“I dinna ken.”
“Liar.”
“Margaret!”
“Tell me the truth!” she cried. “Do you think I haven’t heard how vengeful King Edward has been? I know what he did to Sir Christopher, he was drawn and quartered, Alexander, after he was hanged! What did they do to Sir Neil? To Sir Nigel?” she screamed.
He pulled her into his embrace. “I willna tell ye.”
“I will find out, anyway!”
“Let it rest, Margaret,” he said.
She wept against his chest then. Alexander held her and stroked her hair. And when she had spent a tiny portion of her grief, she looked up. “Where is Isabella? Marjorie? Christina?”
“They were being held at Aberdeen. I dinna ken where they are now.”
She swiped away her tears. “I want to see them. I want to see Isabella.”
“No. I willna allow it.”
