Bertrice Small - Betrayed

What a great stubborn fool he had been! Not once, even after Fiona had showed him she loved him, had he told her that he loved her. How that must have hurt her, and he hadn't meant to hurt her. His sister Janet had always said he was spoiled and wanted his own way all the time. He had always denied it, believing those qualities to be hers, not his. Now he realized that perhaps she had been right.

He did not regret taking Fiona Hay as his mistress in exchange for ihe cattle she had stolen from him. But after a few months he should have married the lass. He suspected he had been in love with her all along, from the moment she had ushered him into her tumbling-down tower house with such dignity and grace. She was every bit his equal, and he had always known it.

But he had never told her. Instead he had played a cruel game with her-taunting her, embarrassing her before all of Scotland, and pretending that he didn't care when the truth of the matter was he damned well cared. Now she was lost to him, and she didn't know that he loved her. Loved her above all women. Had always loved her, even if he hadn't admitted it. Had she, perhaps, known the feelings he couldn't, or wouldn't, express? Women were intuitive that way. Perhaps that was why she had been so patient with him.

He had to find her, tell her he loved her and wanted only her for his wife. He realized that the king was sending him off because he thought the situation hopeless and wanted to distract him. But it wasn't hopeless! Fiona was out there. She was alive, and whatever had happened, he wanted her back! And in this matter above all others, Angus Gordon meant to have his own way.

He reached Brae with a day-and-a-half's hard riding and immediately sent to Greymoor for his sister and brother-in-law. Jeannie Hay was at the castle when he arrived, and he was surprised to find Jamie-boy not so aggravated by her presence any longer, but then Jeannie was almost demure in her behavior, which was a decided change. When Janet and Hamish arrived, he gathered them all together and told them what had happened.

"There is no evidence of her anywhere," he concluded.

"But who would steal Fiona?" Janet asked.

"I think 'twas the cart that they were after. If the king's men had guided her away from Glen Gorm, she might have been safe and home at Brae, but they ran like cowards and left her to the brigands."

"But they didn't kill her," Hamish Stewart said thoughtfully. "They did not find her body or Nelly's, or evidence of graves, did they? There is more to this than meets the eye, Angus," his brother-in-law decided.

"Aye, I agree with ye," Angus Gordon said, "but I canna for the life of me figure out what it is. The king offered me the queen's young cousin, a sweet lass, in exchange for my loss, but of course I turned him down. Beth is sweet, but Jesu, a boring little wench!"

"We'll mount our own search," Hamish Stewart said.

"I must return to Scone," the laird said. "I am to go to England with Atholl on the king's business. I did not want to do it, but the king insisted, even commanding me and threatening to put us all to the horn if I did not cooperate. I believe he thinks to take my mind off my troubles. I am to be made Earl of Brae upon my return."

"Are ye, now?" Hamish Stewart said thoughtfully. "I would say that the king is attempting to purchase yer cooperation, Angus. I know that ye served him in England as a lad, but he has made none of those others who were with him the offer of a title. I find it all most curious," Hamish Stewart concluded.

"Don't look askance at an earldom," Janet Gordon Stewart said tartly. "Angus Gordon, the Earl of Brae. My! Does it not sound grand?"

"It sounds verra grand," her husband replied. "Too grand for Angus's role in the matter, Jan. Tell me again, Angus, about Fiona's abduction. She was taken in the Glen of Gorm, ye say."

Carefully the laird went back over the story that the king had told him, thinking carefully, repeating it almost word for word.

"It seems to me that despite their inexperience the king's men were too quick to flee," Hamish Stewart noted. "Why was that, do ye imagine? Why did not one think to turn Fiona's horse so she might go with them? A most curious incident, Angus."

"What are ye saying, Hamish Stewart?" his wife demanded.

"Perhaps it was meant that Fiona Hay be abducted," he replied.

"Hamish, yer a fool seeing shadows where none exist!" Janet returned. "Are ye saying that the king was in on some kind of plot? What possible reason could the king of Scotland have for such a thing? Neither Fiona nor Angus is important to him. I don't know where ye get such ideas." She turned to her brother. "The king has rewarded ye because of yer loyalty and friendship. Think no more on it, my lord earl. Oh, I am so proud of ye, Angus Gordon, and I know that Father would be, too. An earldom for Brae! Who would have thought such a thing would ever happen?" She kissed his cheek and sniffled noisily, her eyes misty.

"But where is my sister?" Jeannie Hay demanded, suddenly her old self again. "Ye love her, Angus. Will ye be content to simply let her disappear?"

“The king has promised to send another search party out to seek my lass," the laird said. "If she is alive, I will not desert her no matter what, Jeannie. I do indeed love her."

"We'll look ourselves, lassie, while Angus is in England," Hamish Stewart said. He was not satisfied with the simplistic answer his wife had given her eldest brother. He was a Stewart, and he knew how complicated the Stewart mind could be. For the life of him, however, he could not figure out why the king had separated Angus and Fiona. What reason could there possibly be for such a thing?

***

Angus Gordon was uncomfortable being back at Brae. Everywhere he went evoked a memory of Fiona Hay. In desperation he took his horse one day and rode up Ben Hay. The tower house was bleak and deserted, his men having withdrawn months ago. Fiona's brothers-in-law had been made to understand that Ben Hay and its tower belonged to her. Stepping into the hall of the tower house, he recalled the wedding that had taken place there that morning so long ago. He could almost see Fiona standing haughtily, a length of Hay tartan across her then skinny chest, the chieftain's badge gleaming from her shoulder. How proud she had been, successfully marrying off Elsbeth and Margery, knowing that she had secured the futures of her five siblings, that she had done her duty as she had promised her dying mother she would when she was just a child herself.

"Yer alive, lass," he said softly. "I can feel it. Yer too strong to have disappeared off the face of the earth. We'll find ye, Fiona Hay. I found ye once. I'll find ye again. I don't intend losing ye forever."

Angus Gordon then rode back down the ben to Brae. He called to Hamish to join him in a goblet of wine. "Ye’ll seek for her, will ye not?" he asked him.

Hamish nodded. "I will. Jan's explanation may well be the truth, but I'm a cautious man and a wee bit distrustful, particularly of another Stewart. We're a canny family, Angus."

"I appreciate yer help, Hamish. She is out there somewhere. I know it!"

"I think ye may well be right," Hamish agreed. "I am curious, however, as to why this happened, but I suppose we'll not ever know that unless the king knows and is willing to tell."

Angus Gordon left Brae the following day and returned to Scone. If he could not look for Fiona himself, he knew that Hamish would seek after her, for Hamish loved nothing better than a conundrum except solving one, and this matter was indeed a puzzle. And two days after his return to Scone, he departed it, riding south with the Earl of Atholl and a small party of men for England.

Atholl was a changed man, and the laird had the oddest thought that perhaps Atholl was truly afraid of the king. He remembered the king saying Walter Stewart was so fearful of him that Atholl had given his own son to be a hostage so the king might believe his loyalty. He listened to the men who were riding with him. They all spoke in hushed tones of how the king had brought his cousin, Duke Murdoch, and two of Murdoch's sons, plus his father-in-law, the old Earl of Lennox, all to trial. That other Walter Stewart, Duke Murdoch's son, was the first arrested. Next, during a session of parliament at Perth, Duke Murdoch and his next-born son, Alexander; the Earls of Angus, Douglas, and March; Lindsay of Glenesk, the Hepburn of Hailes, and a number of other high-ranking lords, including the constables of Scotland and Dundee, Lord Stewart of Rosyth, and the Red Stewart of Dundonald, all found themselves imprisoned. They were considered to have been allies of Duke Murdoch's family.

The youngest of Duke Murdoch's sons had escaped to the west. He returned with a party of supporters to burn Dumbarton and slay the Red Stewart, who had been released from prison by his nephew. The king's men gave chase, and the young man was forced to flee to Ireland. Murdoch and his other sons, along with his father-in-law, the eighty-year-old Earl of Lennox, were tried and convicted of charges that amounted to high treason. Duke Robert was beyond his nephew's grasp, and so the king took his revenge upon his cousins and executed them. The rest of the noble criminals were tried. Most were fined or had their estates forfeited to the king. Some remained imprisoned for the time being. The king meant to terrify those who would attempt to thwart his efforts at reigning, but his vengeance had a mean-spirited quality to it. While the nobility were frightened, they were also resentful of this fierce young king.

"He has to be strong after the anarchy that has overrun the country," Angus Gordon said to his companions, defending the king.

"Strong, aye," Atholl agreed, "but it is not a crime to show mercy, my lord of Brae. James has no pity in his heart. He means to rule even if he must kill us all. While ye were away, a Stewart cousin struck a page in the king's hall within the king's sight. James Stewart ordered the miscreant brought before him. He had the man's hand extended out upon the high board, and the injured page stood at the king's command with a sharp knife upon the very wrist of this unfortunate. There they stood for an hour while our sweet queen, her ladies, and the clergy present pleaded for mercy for this Stewart cousin. Even the young page forgave the blow. Finally the king relented, but he banished his cousin from court and from his presence. This is a man who will be king at any cost, my lord of Brae. Ye would be well advised to be wary of him."

"Ye know the nature of the Scots well, my lord," the laird answered him. "Ye know that the king must be stronger than any other man if he is to retain control over his own kingdom. We are not an easy people, and in past memory too many of our rulers have been weak-willed, feebleminded, unscrupulous, unprincipled, or corrupt. This king is not like that. His love of justice is greater than any man's I have ever known, my lord of Atholl. In time, when things are more easily managed, James Stewart will be less stern with us. For now, I would trust in him."

"My nephew is fortunate in yer friendship, Angus Gordon," the Earl of Atholl said, "but ye would still do well to heed my advice and be wary of him. Put not yer trust in any princeling, my lord. Power changes men from what they once were into something quite different."

"I thank ye for yer good thoughts, my lord," the laird told him, "but I will put my faith in the king. He has never disappointed me yet, and unless he does, I would be a poor liege man not to believe in him."

Walter Stewart, Earl of Atholl, offered no further words on the subject to the laird of Loch Brae. Perhaps James Stewart would never turn on his old childhood friend. And then again, perhaps he would. The king was a man who had no trouble when it came to attaining his goals for Scotland. Atholl looked ahead over the hills beyond which lay England. They had important business to consider, and he would see his son again. It was all he could concentrate on now. Scotland was in good hands, even if his nephew was proving a stronger and harder man than any of them had anticipated. Scotland would survive, possibly even thrive, under James Stewart's rule.

SCOTLAND
Winter 1425 – Summer 1430

Celtic tradition was ingrained in the highlands. On February second the fires blazed on the hillside in the midst of a snowstorm. It was Imbolc- a time when the ewes lactated, indicating the lambing season was upon them-a tradition in the Celtic world celebrating the days growing brighter and longer, the spring that would eventually come despite the cold, the snow, and the general gloom surrounding them now.