Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,42
saw that Lady Gavina was observing him, her gaze curious.
Swallowing hard, Cassian frowned. Had he been that obvious?
“If ye are keen to learn of Edward’s plans … I can be of some assistance.” John Comyn spoke up once more. He lounged in a high-backed chair by the hearth. However, the man’s gaze was cool when it rested upon De Keith. “There are benefits to kneeling to the English king.”
Cassian pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to smile. He liked Comyn; the man wasn’t easy to offend, and he was also sharp.
His lack of wine momentarily forgotten, De Keith turned to him. “What have ye learned?”
Comyn raised a ruddy eyebrow. “A few nights ago, I shared a few horns of mead with the king … and discovered some things.” The big man paused here, aware that all gazes in the chamber were now riveted upon him. He smiled, enjoying the moment. “The first is that we should be wary of his son … Edward, the newly appointed Prince of Wales.”
De Keith frowned. “Go on.”
“Prince Edward commands part of Longshanks’ army,” Comyn continued. “He has a force of around three hundred soldiers, and has taken control of the Solway coast. The prince is green and under his father’s control … but Longshanks boasted to me of his military prowess. He shares his father’s ambition to rule Scotland.”
De Keith’s frown deepened into a scowl. “One Edward of England is bad enough,” he muttered. “We don’t need to deal with another.” He paused then, his features tightening. “And what else?”
Comyn’s mouth quirked. “This may be of real interest to ye … Longshanks believes the time isn’t right for a campaign into the Highlands. He’ll not strike north for a year or two yet.”
Cassian tensed. Comyn was surely mistaken. If the ‘Hammer’ that the riddle spoke of was Edward—and he felt certain it was—an attack had to come soon. Or else it would be too late for this coming of the Broom-star. This news makes little sense.
Oblivious to his captain’s turmoil, David De Keith’s face visibly relaxed at Comyn’s revelation. “He fears the northern clan-chiefs?”
Comyn snorted. “Longshanks fears few men, De Keith.” His gaze glinted then. “However, this brings me to the last thing I discovered while Edward and I were drinking together. There are two Scots who concern him … William Wallace … and Robert Bruce. He currently has spies out searching for Wallace.”
“I hear he’s in France,” Lady Elizabeth replied. The cool calm of her voice impressed Cassian, as did the fact she’d spoken up before De Keith dropped them all in it. Cassian didn’t dare glance the laird’s way, in case Comyn was watching their reactions to his news.
“Aye … that’s what most folk say,” Comyn replied. “But there are rumors he’s returned. Longshanks is certain he was spotted in Inverness.” The baron paused there, his mouth pursing. “He hates Wallace … swears he won’t rest till the man is swinging from a gibbet.”
“And Robert Bruce?” De Keith asked, deftly turning Comyn away from the subject of the freedom fighter.
‘The Red’ flashed him a humorless smile. “Like me, Bruce has been appointed ‘Guardian of the Realm’ … yet many believe he has much greater ambitions.” The baron paused there, his gaze narrowing. “Longshanks went on crusade with Robert’s father. The two of them are firm friends, but Edward doesn’t trust his son … he believes Robert Bruce wants the Scottish throne for himself.”
XVIII
THIS IS FOLLY
“I’M NOT SURE this is wise.”
Fyfa Comyn favored Aila with a sly smile in response. “Love isn’t wise, Aila. But if ye wish to win this man, ye will have to be brave.” The steward’s wife then dipped her finger into a vial of rose perfume and began dabbing it on the sensitive spots just below Aila’s ears. She then applied some at the hollow of her throat and upon the underside of her wrists. “Men love a woman’s perfume,” she assured her. “This will drive him wild.”
Aila looked down at the thin shift she was wearing. “I think I’ll keep this on under my robe,” she said softly. “I can’t go before him naked.”
Fyfa gave a frustrated snort. “Bravery … it’s the only way ye will prevail.” She stood back then, her gaze meeting Aila’s. “Remember, fortune favors the bold. That’s my clan motto. Before I wed a Comyn, I was a MacKinnon.”
Aila’s heart started to race at these words. “Aye, but have ye ever done something like this?”