The Knight (7 page)

Ah hell.

Joanna was awakened by the loud roar of a cheer echoing through the floor of the bedchamber that she shared with her three younger sisters. Her two brothers—also younger—were away being fostered.

It was her sisters’ presence in the room that had prevented Joanna from completely falling apart upon returning from her disastrous meeting with James yesterday. Though she suspected sixteen-year-old Eleanor had noticed her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, thirteen-year-old Constance and twelve-year-old Agnes were too busy arguing over a lost silk ribbon to pay any attention to their older sister’s shattered emotions.

They would, Joanna thought with horror, her hand going to her still-flat stomach. God, how it shamed her to know that they would learn everything. If James didn’t marry her, she would be disgraced. She would become nothing more than a source of shame and embarrassment to her family. She looked at the innocent, sleep-rumpled faces of the fair-haired, blue-eyed cherubs waking up beside her and felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes again. What had she done to them? Joanna pushed back the wave of trepidation that rose in her chest.

“What was that noise?” Eleanor asked, clutching the thick plaid that covered their bed.

Joanna shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. It was taking everything she had to hold back the wave of emotions battering down on her. It didn’t help that she’d been up most of the night doing the same thing.

“I’m tired,” Agnes moaned, burying her head in the soft feather pillow. “What time is it?”

Joanna eyed the thin stream of strong daylight coming through the single shuttered window above them. They’d slept late by the looks of it. “Time to get dressed and wash your faces before prayers.” Another cheer sounded from below. “I will find out what is happening in the Hall.”

“Do you think it has something to do with Sir James?” Constance asked, her eyes wide and sparkling with excitement.

Joanna stilled, even the sound of his name causing a stab of pain.

The starry-eyed look of admiration bordering on adulation on her sister’s face was one that Joanna suspected she’d worn more often than not. To her thirteen-year-old sister, James was the greatest, most handsome, most noble knight the world had ever seen. He could do no wrong. The pang in her chest twinged harder. She wanted to think so, too. She wanted that expression back on her own face.

“Mother and father could talk of little else at the evening meal last night with the rumors of his return,” Constance prattled on excitedly.

Which was one of the reasons Joanna had pleaded a headache and retired early. Her mother would guess something was wrong, and Joanna didn’t know if she had the strength not to confide in her. Her parents loved James like a son and revered him as a demigod. This would break their hearts as much as it had hers.

How could she have been so wrong about his intentions? She’d assumed that “love” and “forever” meant marriage. She’d assumed that because
she
could think of no other future than marriage that James would think that way, too. But it was clear they didn’t think the same at all.

His leman? Dear God, she felt like a fool. A naive, blinded-by-love fool. A naive, blinded-by-love
pregnant
fool.

Joanna splashed cold water on her tired eyes, cleaned her teeth with a cloth and a paste of wine, salt, and mint, and dragged a beautiful horn comb encrusted with pearls through her hair. James had given it to her a few years ago when he’d become a knight.

Would the baby make a difference to him? She didn’t know, but she owed it to their child to give James a chance to do right by them both.

He’d been in a rush yesterday, and she’d caught him off guard. He’d caught her off guard as well. She shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum like that. She should have handled it with more finesse. For as long as she’d known him, James hated being backed into a corner, and she’d effectively drawn a line on the ground and dared him not to cross over. His pride would make him, even if he didn’t want to.

She bit her lip, winding a ribbon quickly through her long plait. When they spoke later today, she vowed not to threaten but to explain. Maybe she could make him understand? Maybe when his mind was clear and he had a chance to think about it, he would see that he could achieve his goals and still marry her. That she did not need to be the price of his ambition.

At just four and twenty, James was already one of King Robert’s most valued and important lieutenants. He was one of the handful of men the king relied upon. James had been given the important task of gaining control in the chaotic Borders. She knew that the king’s nephew, Sir Thomas Randolph, was making a name for himself as well—and that there was a silly rivalry between the two—but James’s ability to rally men to his banner gave him the edge.

As much as his reaction had hurt her yesterday, part of her still didn’t want to believe he would hurt her—them—like this. If he loved her—and she truly believed he did—he would honor that love with his name. She and their child deserved nothing less.

Though Thommy’s voice sounded strongly in her head that she was just making excuses for him again, she wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. The shine on his armor might have dulled a little, but James was a knight, honorable and noble to the core. His ambition wouldn’t prevent him from doing what was right.

Spirits lifted a little, Joanna quickly finished dressing and, leaving her sisters to their morning ablutions, hurried to the Hall.

Her father had been keeper of Douglas Castle under James’s father and, as befitting one of his most important vassals, their manor at Hazelside was one of the most impressive in the area. A fortified farmhouse, the rectangular two-storied building and the wooden outbuildings were situated on an old motte and were surrounded by a high wooden palisade. Although not as formidable as the stone wall of Douglas Castle, the wooden barrier had served its purpose for more than a hundred years.

The din of voices grew louder as Joanna hurried down the stairs. Something certainly was going on. Instead of a quiet morning, it sounded like a midday feast after the ale and whisky had been flowing for a few hours.

It looked that way as well. When Joanna entered the Hall, she could barely see her parents through the crowd of people gathered around the trestle tables that had been set up to break the fast. However, no one seemed interested in eating. The occupants were laughing and talking animatedly back and forth.

She saw her uncle first, with some of his men, and realized that a handful of her father’s nearby retainers were here as well.

“Bring the wine and ale,” her father called out. “This is cause for celebration.” Catching sight of her as she wound her way toward him, he beamed and opened his arms wide. “There you are, daughter! Come and hear the news.”

Seeing his happiness, Jo couldn’t help but return his smile. Thomas Dicson of Hazelside’s good-natured disposition was reflected in his appearance. Possessing the same fair coloring of Jo and her sisters, the years had grayed his hair and put a ruddy, weather-beaten stamp on his fair face, but he was still a handsome man. A thick barrel chest, sturdy build, and boisterous, larger-than-life personality made him seem taller than his handful of inches over five feet. When he enfolded her in his arms, Joanna’s head nearly aligned with his.

“What is it, Father? We heard the cheers upstairs.”

“Woke you, did we?” He smiled, tweaking her nose. “What a bunch of lazy lasses I have. How am I going to find husbands for all of you? Half the morning is gone already.”

Joanna felt a stab at the mention of the word husband, but seeing the familiar teasing glint in his eye, she managed to hide it behind a smile. “You will have to get up earlier to work harder to give us all rich tochers to have someone take us off your hands.”

He gave a sharp guffaw and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “They should pay me for such treasures. I already have half the men in the village vying for my eldest daughter; when Eleanor is of age, I will probably have all of them.”

Her mother stood beside her father, shaking her head as she listened to their teasing. “Are you going to tell her, Thomas, or should I?”

Joanna turned to her father expectantly, though she could already guess what he was going to say.

“Ah, lass, it’s the very best of news. Your uncle arrived this morning to tell us that our rightful lord has taken the castle and rid us of the English pigs forever.”

Joanna stilled, the air sucked from her lungs. He’d promised! “Forever?” she breathed. “What do you mean forever?”

“Young Douglas intends to raze the castle to the ground. There will be nothing left for the English to garrison. Nor do I imagine there will be English soldiers eager to defend Castle Dangerous.” He grinned. “Our young lord is making a name for himself.”

Dread washed over her. It was how he was making his name that worried her. “And Sir John?” she asked, unable to keep the worry from her voice. The English commander had always been kind to her. She knew they were the enemy, and she should hate them as James and her father did, but living with them day-to-day it was hard not to make some friends.

Her father frowned. Like James, he didn’t approve of her friendliness with their “occupiers.” He might be forced to interact with them, but she was not. “Killed, from what your uncle said. Along with most of his men.”

Her eyes filled with tears, thinking of the handsome commander eager to return to his sweetheart in England.

“This time there will be nothing left,” her father added. “Not one bloody Englishman left in Douglas.”

Joanna’s eyes shot to his in horror. The “Douglas Larder” may have happened almost three years ago, but it was still fresh in her mind. He would do it again. James had sworn he would show them mercy. He’d promised her.

James stood outside the gate of the Douglas stronghold. His stronghold. The castle where he’d been born that had been built by his grandfather in the days of King Alexander III. He would rebuild, he swore, and make it even better than before. But emotion burned in his chest and throat.

The day had dawned gray and cold—fitting, he supposed, for the distasteful but necessary deed being done here today. Like William Wallace before him, Robert the Bruce had adopted the battle strategy of leaving nothing behind for the English but scorched earth, giving them nothing to eat and nowhere to hide, even if it meant destroying their own homes. The king’s castles had not escaped the swathe of destruction: Lochmaben and Turnberry Castles had both been taken and slighted.

Now it was James’s turn to watch his castle destroyed.

The long night of feasting was no longer evident in the sober faces of the men who were gathered behind him, watching the men prepare the fires. Truth be told, after what happened with De Wilton, James hadn’t felt much like celebrating last night, but he went through the motions for his men—and for his castle. It deserved a fitting send-off.

It was just timber and stone, he told himself. The memories could not be destroyed.

Boyd, who’d been looking at him all night as if he’d suddenly grown two heads, must have read something in his face. “You don’t have to do this.”

James tightened his jaw. “Aye, I do.” It was his command, his order that would see it done. The least he could do was stand witness. “Has Seton finished with the prisoners yet?”

Boyd’s mouth fell in a flat line. “He’s readying them now.” He gave him a hard stare. “Silver and a safe escort to the border? This isn’t like you.”

James shrugged. It wasn’t. He didn’t know how to explain it other than something had struck a chord in him when he’d read that letter. The thing that De Wilton had been reaching for—the thing that had cost him his life—had been a letter from a woman in England. The lady he’d hoped to marry.

Joanna had tried to tell him that De Wilton had a sweetheart back home, but James had been too jealous to believe her.

The lady had written that she would agree to marry the English commander if he could hold “Castle Dangerous” for a year. It was the kind of test the troubadours had sung about, harkening to the great age of chivalry when knights had proved their worthiness on the lists and undertaken other challenges and feats of bravery in the name of love.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Boyd said. “He moved and you acted on instinct. He had no right to ask for mercy in the first place. Were the roles reversed he would have struck you down without hesitation—and become a rich man in the process.”

They all had high prices on their heads, but the Black Douglas’s was higher than most.

“I know.” But James couldn’t deny the guilt he’d experienced on reading the note. So instead of taking the castle by force, he’d offered the English soldiers holed up in the keep terms for surrender. Terms that had included a safe escort and enough money to see them home in exchange for the solemn vow that they would never step on Scottish ground again.

Boyd shook his head and gave him a long stare. “You and Seton with your damned chivalry. Pretty soon you’ll be spouting off knightly codes like Randolph.”

James gave a real shudder. Though the king’s nephew had come around to “fighting like a brigand” as he’d once accused Bruce, Randolph still had his moments of knightly superiority. But James couldn’t wait for him to hear about this latest victory—let him try to top this. “Bite your damned tongue.”

“Does this have something to do with the lass you went to see yesterday?”

“No,” James said flatly, turning sharply away.

But did it? Perhaps a little. He shouldn’t have made a promise to Joanna, but he had, and he would do his best to honor it. She would be distressed by De Wilton’s death, but perhaps this show of mercy would help atone for his mistake.

A moment later, Seton led the prisoners out and James gave the order to light the fires.

As they were without siegecraft weaponry like trebuchets or siege engines, they would burn everything first and assault the weakened walls later with great timber logs, iron bars, picks, and whatever else they could find.