Another incredible statement, in its way, just like the one that had come before it. The Gallowglass was saying Da now commanded his loyalty as well as his sword.
“I will hang back,” Da granted with dignity, “that ye may lay all yer might into the enemy when we encounter them.”
Word soon came down that would occur almost immediately. The news crept its way through the ranks of men. Now that they knew what awaited them, they were to separate into their divisions and march forth across the wet, broken moorland.
It might be as well, Katrin decided, that after all she would have little chance to dread the coming battle or contemplate what their fate would be. Indeed, she had become separated from Finlay in the ensuing confusion—had he slipped away from her?—and had not even time to seek him out once more, gaze into his eyes or touch his hand. If either of them were to perish in what must come, and she had no chance to say goodbye…
The scene from her recent dream flashed into her head. The woman, Bradana, parting from the aged man she adored. Had they spoken a proper farewell?
Taken up completely with her father, with the rapid movement up front, and the sheer force of the impetus when the Scots army began marching in earnest, she had time for nothing more than to feel the wheel of fate jerk into motion beneath her feet.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Worried and desperate,Finlay searched for Katrin as the army started moving. They had become separated when the body of Murtray’s men pressed forward to their chief, seeking answers. Now he could not see her anywhere. After all their waiting, on this cool and rainy morning with fog lying like a blanket over the rough moorland, things moved all too swiftly. He could feel the rush of it, a vibration running through the men, a kind of buzz of conversation, questions, muttering, like the heave of the sea beneath a tiny boat.
He felt edgy, his stomach queasy. He could have eaten no breakfast even had any been on offer, which it was not.
The persistent mist clouded the world. The land here was a broad, rough, and ragged plain that undulated up and down, now torn by the hooves and boots that trod across it. No one could see much of his surroundings, which only added to the dread. Did their commanders know where, exactly, this English army lurked? They might be anywhere.
And whence had these forces come? They’d been told England lay empty before them, and so far they’d glimpsed naught of significant opposing forces. Could the information coming back to them be wrong?
Uncertainty bred fear, and fear ran through Murtray’s men, who were now so very far from home. Finlay could feel that too. No doubt everybody there could, and it united even as it shook them.
“Come, march wi’ me and my da.” Of a sudden, Katrin was therebeside Finlay as if she’d materialized from the very mist, her hand on his arm and desperation in her eyes. No more than he did she know what this day would bring. But she wanted them to face it together. And was he not here for the express purpose of fighting at her side?
“Come along,” he bade Gregor, and they moved up through the ranks.
The Gallowglass band was, as ever, just in front of Chief MacMurtray’s position. Reagan had donned his helmet, and the fog swirled around him like the remnants of a dream, adding to Finlay’s sense of unreality. Mayhap he did dream all this, no more or less than one of the tales he told. Like the memories that came to him in his dreams.
Suddenly Laird Robert Stewart appeared at their head with one of his captains, on horseback. He shouted at them, “This division—ye are under my command! Forward, but let the rest o’ the army move ahead o’ ye!”
Why? In the long-ago battles Finlay had fought, he’d always been in the vanguard, or close to it. Did Stewart wish to keep them in reserve, should the fight go badly for the rest of the forces?
A humble harper, not even a proper warrior, had no chance to ask. Over the strange and foreign land they moved, unable now to see even their own flanks that spread out ahead and to either side. Orders from the other commanders came back to them muffled.
If their scouts could be trusted, an army awaited them, one of unknown size. How far ahead? It must be some distance yet, for the commanders made no effort at silence. But it could all end here. For him. For Katrin, for both of them. One final turn of fate’s wheel. Had he found her only to lose her before she knew him?
All too possible. In battle, men died. He knew that to the root of his soul, knew it better than he knew his own name. For, aye, he had been here before, though not in this life. In this life he had eschewed the path of the warrior. This he had done for the sake of the lass who walked at his side.
Yet he found himself here anyway. An irony the likes of which life seemed so fond.
Katrin must have felt his gaze upon her, for she turned her head and their eyes met. An exchange took place, one as intimate as when he’d been with her in her chamber. When they’d lain together, two bodies—and two souls—became one.
He might never have that again, but by God, he would stand strong beside her, whatever that required.
The mist stirred and floated around her. It had wetted and darkened her hair. Her face looked pale, but as she gazed at him, light took hold in her eyes.
His world lay in those eyes.
The commanders were not being quiet. They shouted to their men and to one another. Far away to the front, Finlay could hear the king’s voice raised. No silent approach, this. To one side of them, a drummer started up a beat. A piper far on the other side took it up in a tune. To his astonishment, Finlay realized he knew it—the march tune he had made for the Gallowglass.
With a breathless laugh and a look for Finlay, Katrin also took it up. Her voice rose bold but muffled by the mist, disembodied like a murmur from the past. His own tune, aye, and the words they had made together.
Come all ye who would valiant be
Who would follow the train o’ bright glory.
Where battle brings us gory fates
