He shook his head. It would likely be suicide. Butcouldit be done?
He turned back to the king. “I don’t know.”
The Bruce’s dark eyes gleamed. “Does that mean it’s possible someone could climb it?”
“No one ever has before, but at this point, I’m not saying it’simpossible. I’d need a closer look to scout it from different vantages to see whether there is a way up.”
Something that he wasn’t seeing right now.
“You shall have whatever you need,” the king said quickly. “My nephew will see to it.”
Thom stiffened reflexively. Maybe the only thing worse than being under Douglas’s command would be being under Randolph’s. The sting of last night’s arrival at Holyrood was still too fresh. He’d felt like he was watching some kind of damned farce. A play torn from the pages of Arthur and his knights, featuring the perfect shining knight and the beautiful princess for all to admire.
Except that it hadn’t been a play; it had been too damned real. And the beautiful princess was his, damn it.
For Thom, standing aside in silence as Elizabeth greeted the man she planned to marry was like a slap in the face and all too reminiscent of his youth.Remember your place. Don’t reach too high. Keep your mouth shut.
Stepping back had been the only prudent thing to do. But why did he feel that in doing so he’d conceded something he didn’t want to concede?
Perhaps sensing the direction of Thom’s thoughts, MacLeod said, “It would have to be done at night. We will see to it that no one from the castle is alerted.”
The king lifted a brow. “You want MacGowan with you?”
The Highland Chief nodded. “Aye.”
Thom almost heaved a sigh of relief.
Randolph shot Douglas a surprised look, at which his old friend just shrugged. They all knew what MacLeod’s command meant: Thom was being recruited by the Phantoms.
“Very well,” the king agreed. He turned to Thom. “You may be able to help with a few other missions I have in mind.”
Thom nodded. “I’ll do whatever I can, sire.”
“My brother says you wish to become a knight?”
“Aye, sire.”
“Do well, and I will personally see to it,” he said. Thom was still reeling from the king’s words when Bruce added with an enigmatic laugh in MacLeod’s direction, “Although not everyone sees the value, knighthood still has much to recommend it.” He glanced down at Thom’s horse—a pathetic beast compared to the fine horseflesh ridden by the other men. “You will need to find a better horse.”
Thom repressed a groan. “I’m working on it.”
More than one man laughed as they turned their mounts and headed back through the forest to return to the abbey.
Fortunately, it would be a short stay. With his release from Douglas’s temporary command, Thom would leave the abbey for the siege encampment at the base of Castle Hill—the elevated rise from the west that provided the only accessible entrance to the castle—about a mile away. Staying at Holyrood, being forced to watch Randolph woo his bride, would have been unbearable.
Thom needed to put his head down and concentrate on the opportunity being given him with the Phantoms. Christ, the king had offered to knight him if he proved himself.
He was riding at the back of the group with MacRuairi and MacLeod going over a plan to try to get a closer look at the cliff that very night, when he took the opportunity to ask about the king’s earlier remark. “What did the king mean when he said you did not see the value in knighthood?”
The two West Highland chieftains exchanged a look.
“We’re Highlanders,” MacLeod said as if that were explanation enough.
“We have our own code,” MacRuairi added. “The chivalry of knights may make for romantic tales,” he said with an eye to Randolph. Apparently Thom wasn’t the only one not impressed by Randolph’s performance. “But it is not reality, nor does it win wars.” He gave him a slightly evil smile. “You’ll see.”
Thom frowned. “There are no knights among you?”
“A few,” MacLeod answered. “But it is secondary to their place in the Guard.”
