“Let us hope. I would hate to have your music stilled—for so poor a cause as this.”
If Finlay laid down his life, it would be on Katrin’s behalf.
Reagan said, “I am planning to send my men to forage. If theycome up with anything, I will make sure ye get some.”
“Give my share to Katrin and her father.”
“Come now, Finlay—even a legendary harper cannot live on air.”
*
The next day,the army moved on to the city of Hexham, where King David ordered his forces to spread out and find what sustenance they could. Hunger among the ranks had grown dire. More and more men—sometimes even whole clan sects—had deserted for the long walk home. Need overtook morals on every side.
Which was about to be proven in the most grievous way. For no English forces appeared to repel the Scots. They took what they wanted and set their sights on the wealthy priory that lay just ahead. Like the savages the English thought them to be, they plundered it without mercy.
Anders MacMurtray, when he heard of it, was outraged. He gathered his men and spoke to them. “We will no’ participate in this. D’ye hear me? Murdering holy men, even be they English, well, there is nay honor in it. We shall no’ stoop to such a thing.”
“But chief,” said one of the men standing not far from Finlay, “those who sacked the priory collected stores and riches. They ha’ food. We be hungry.”
“I know it. I am hungry also. But ’tis far more important to ha’ yer honor than a full belly.”
The Murtray men said nothing, did not emit so much as a mutter, such was their respect for this man. Finlay wondered how long Anders’s edict could hold. If the men around Finlay were as empty as he, with their stomachs stuck to their backbones, and seeing the forces around them acting to serve their needs with the apparent approval of their commanders, would they not also run amok?
The next day they continued east toward the city of Durham. TheScots were now growing confident in their belief that nothing could stop them, and the lust for plunder was upon them. Finlay sought out Katrin, who stood for once away from her father, gazing ahead with troubled eyes.
She was holding up well. Like the rest of them, she looked weary, and her honey-colored hair hung in a tangle that she no longer even attempted to tuck under her helm. But she stood poised on the balls of her feet, undefeated. At the sight of her, Finlay’s heart rose impossibly. The woman he loved, had loved, would always love.
“Mistress.”
Her gaze flew to him and kindled. In that instant it felt as if they were alone, despite the seething mass of humanity around them.
“Harper.” She edged closer to him. “Ye ha’ no need to call me that—mistress. Given wha’ we ha’ been to one another.”
If she only knew…
“Another town lies ahead. Reagan says there is a monastery between us, and it. D’ye think this horde will again attack and slaughter more holy men?”
“Perhaps, if the town does no’ pay to spare them.”
She made a face. “All this happens wi’ the king’s approval. I begin to think he is on a campaign to collect ransom, more than aught else.”
“Do no’ let anyone hear ye say so.” Finlay lowered his voice. “Ye maun tak’ comfort in knowing yer father will no’ let the Murtray men participate in such.”
“Nay”—she glanced at him—“he is a stubborn old man and will let them starve instead. D’ye wish to know just how stubborn he is? Reagan has managed to find a horse for Da to ride, and he has refused it—refused it wi’ great indignation. ‘The Chief o’ Murtray to ride when all his men are afoot? How might that be a thing I could countenance? Am I to appear weak before our men?’ That is wha’ he says.
“I did point out to him that King David and, indeed, Earl Stewart both travel ahorse at the head o’ their men while displaying noapparent shame. Will Da survive whatever battles may come? I will be there at his side to defend him. But if I fail…”
Aye, an old fear of hers, and one that had haunted her long. “Mayhap,” Finlay said softly, “there will be nay battles. When the king has collected wha’ he feels owed to him, perhaps we will turn around and go back home wi’out a fight.”
“I hope so, Finlay. ’Tis my dearest hope. But I begin to think in life there are things ye maun face, and fears ye maun conquer. I am no’ certain we will get out o’ this yet.”
He thought she would turn away from him then. Instead, she reached out and touched his hand, just a fleeting brush of her fingers on his. But it brought back to him all they had shared in their four wondrous nights together.
Did she remember?
If only she would—remember.
Chapter Thirty-Three
