He was speaking of the son who was born between Gar and Reed, a fine knight who had remained behind at MonteviotCastle, Troy’s seat, to guard the garrison when the army went to assist Gar. But the comment made everyone grin.
“Reed is an excellent knight, Uncle Troy,” Tor said. “He just has to learn to settle down.”
Troy grunted in disagreement at his tall, blond nephew. “I should live so long,” he said as Tor snorted. But his focus turned to Gar. “Poppy arrived while you were out hacking off Scot heads, Gar. He is inside, somewhere, so we should go and greet him.”
The humor vanished from Gar’s face. “Poppy is here?” he said. “Why did no one tell me?”
“Because I asked them not to,” Troy said. “You have an army to command. You do not need the distraction of your grandfather’s presence. But now that we are back, I suggest you let Tor and Linus and Will settle the men whilst you and I attend your grandfather.”
Gar was already heading for the enormous portcullis that led into the heart of the castle, leaving his cousins and knight behind as his father had suggested. The structure of Gleann na Fola had several major towers, including a massive central tower where the great hall was located on the first floor above ground level. That made for a lot of slippery stairs and a good many torches to light the way in a stone castle that was as cold in summer as it was in winter. Not much about Gleann na Fola Castle was warm, including the name. It was the biggest, most forbidding castle in the entire de Wolfe collection.
And Gar was damn proud of it.
The great hall could easily hold hundreds of men at any given time and on this day, it was lit up with an enormous fire in the hearth on the west side of the room and two massive wheel-shaped chandeliers over head that were burning thick, yellow tallow candles. The floor leaned slightly because of the sheer weight of the stones and wood upon the joists, but it was secureenough. Nothing could take the place down. As the men entered the hall from one of three spiral stairwells that led up to it, they could see someone sitting at the dais.
They moved in that direction.
As Gar drew near, he could see his grandfather clearly. William de Wolfe was sitting in the middle of the table, in a seat of honor, and Gar thought that was the most appropriate seat in the entire castle for him. He sat like a god, tall and proud, with the familiar patch over his left eye, something he’d lost in battle many years ago. William was extremely advanced in age, but there was no mistaking how sharp he still was. The man had the same mind he’d had in his youth even if his big, old body had shown signs of slowing down years ago. When he saw his son and grandson approaching, his remaining good eye twinkled and he slowly rose to his feet.
“You have both returned safely,” he said with satisfaction. “I am pleased.”
Gar was already moving around the table to embrace his grandfather. “We did,” he said, putting his arms around the man. “It was not a simple thing. The Scots are very angry this time.”
William squeezed his grandson before releasing him. “They are always angry,” he said, shrugging. “I have been dealing with that anger for many years. It never gets any better.”
Gar grinned. “Yet you married a Scot,” he said. “Does that not give you any consideration when facing their rage?”
“It does,” William said. “It seems to make them angrier because I took one of their women.”
Gar broke into soft laughter, motioning for his grandfather to sit down. “Please,” he said. “You have come a long way, Poppy. To what do we owe this visit?”
William lowered himself wearily. “I will admit that I do not travel as well as I used to,” he said. “Your grandmother insists I use her cushioned carriage.”
“Did you?”
“I may be prideful, but I am not stupid. Of course I did.”
Gar chuckled. “There is no shame in being comfortable,” he said. “You have earned that much.”
“I’ve earned far more than that.”
“So why did you come? To ensure we did not ignite the rest of the border with this skirmish?”
William’s humor faded. “Something like that,” he muttered. “You know it is particularly brittle right now. Phillip of France has pledged to aid the Scots in their war with Edward and I received news several days ago that the King of Germany has failed to support Edward against the Scots, so something like this, as small as it seems, can have larger consequences.”
Gar knew that. He was well aware that the English king was locked in a battle against the Scots, which was usually a constant state during any particular reign, but over the past several years it seemed to have grown worse. Unfortunately for Edward, he had a lot of enemies more than willing to aid the Scots, making the situation particularly volatile.
“This was a private battle, Poppy,” Gar assured him. “It was the House of de Bourne against the Maxwell of Westerkirk and it has been settled.”
“How?”
“We destroyed the clan.”
William’s brow furrowed. “What of the women and children?”
Gar glanced at his father. “They were taken away.”
“Taken where?”
