Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lyall walked into his Lord’s chamber, unannounced. James Douglas was leaning over a bowl, washing, and, with a quick glance at him, he carried on with his task.
‘Lord, I would speak to you.’
‘Silence. Do not disturb my little bit of peace with your insolence.’
Lord Douglas narrowed his eyes and splashed water over his face. He wiped it dry with a rag before speaking. ‘Do not ask me what you have come here to ask me, Buchanan. It cannot be done.’
‘You told me back at Wulversmeade, a matter of months since, that you owed me your life, and that you would not forget that obligation.’
‘Aye, no argument there.’
‘I want Giselle de Villers back. I want you to petition the King to have her freed and returned to me.’
‘No.’
‘Does your word mean nothing, Lord?’
‘Careful of that temper, Buchanan. Any other man said that to me, and I would cut him down where he stood. Now I’ll own that I owe you a debt, and I would repay it gladly. I would still gift you the land if you would take it.’
‘I don’t want the land. I just want her back safe.’
‘Giselle de Villers is wed to wealth and power, and if your feelings are hurt, too bad. Forget the English girl. Find another to warm your bed, and be done with this nonsense.’
‘No.’
‘You would be wise to heed my words, Buchanan. Stay your hand, else you take your clansmen down with you. I would give you back the girl if it were in my power to do so, but it is not. Instead, I will try to save you from throwing away your miserable life on a lost cause.’
‘Why bother on my account?’
‘Because I value your sword, you fool. Before me, I see a good man, a brave one, who I would have by my side in the struggle to come. I know full well how your family has bled and suffered for Scotland, and I never forget such sacrifice. I also see a man struggling with his conscience. There is doubt in your mind about the terrible things we have to do for the dream of a free Scotland. There is no such doubt in your brother’s mind. Cormac kills when he is required to kill, he is relentless and unflinching, just like me.’
‘Aye, and I know he has to be,’ said Lyall, ‘but he does not make war on the innocent, on helpless women, and Giselle is such a one. She has done nothing to deserve her fate at Banan’s hands.’
‘You should not care a fig for the fate of one woman, and an English one at that. Banan asked for a reward for naming his father a traitor, and he got it. This brutality you now suffer, seeing someone you love destroyed, perhaps it will drive that honour and decency from you, and make you the man you need to be to win this thing.’
‘I don’t think I want to be that man.’
‘You already are. You just haven’t reconciled yourself to it yet.’
‘The King had no right to take Giselle from me.’
‘No right! He is your King, and has he not suffered far worse in this conflict than you? His own wife was taken and imprisoned. His brothers – dead, all of them, sacrificed for the sake of victory.’
‘He is a fool to make an ally of Banan. You know it, and I know it.’
‘Don’t name my King and my friend a fool, unless you wish to lose your head,’ bellowed Lord Douglas.
‘Forgive my insolence, Lord, but you know what Banan is. If he has the stomach to send his own father to his death, he has the stomach to turn on his King. He could have been part of the plot to topple King Robert.’
‘Aye, he could. But, for now, he is Robert’s saviour. They were to cut him down, you know, our King, in his own hall. They were planning to murder him in cold blood, with the Queen looking on, and then they would have killed her too, just in case she had a bairn in her belly.’
Douglas took a step forward and stood toe to toe with Lyall. He was a fearsome sight up close, black-eyed and hard-faced, but Lyall held his ground.
‘Do you know what imprisonment does to a woman, Buchanan? Bad enough for a man to suffer it, but Elizabeth has been sorely afflicted since she has been returned to him, begrudgingly, by King Edward. He only did so in exchange for noble, English hostages. His barons made him do it, else he was happy to let her rot. Now Elizabeth ails. Where she was once the King’s strength, she is now his burden. Robert cannot take another wife, but he must produce an heir. There is slim chance of that, no matter how hard they try. It has become a dreadful chore for them. Elizabeth’s womb is withered by her suffering, and no bairn will take in it. A man without sons is a man without a future. Every day that passes without an heir, the King becomes more fearful of his reign surviving, and he sees plots and betrayal everywhere.’
‘I am loyal to the crown, and I always have been. You know that.’