Read Online Seduced by the Laird (Conquered Brides Series Book 2) by Eliza Knight - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eliza Knight
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no informal or formal greetings, simply their leader turning, nodding and say, “Tell me your news, Buchanan.”
“Of course, my lord.” Gregor paused.
“What is it?”
“The council?”
“They dinna arrive until tomorrow or the next day. I would hear it now.”
Gregor opened his sporran and pulled out the missive. He opened it slowly, the words he’d read a dozen times before etched into his memory.
He cleared his throat and began to read. “Here ye, here ye, lo to the man who reads this news. William Wallace, traitor to the crown, has been executed on this day, the twenty-third of August, the year of our lord 1305. As befitting his crimes, Wallace was dragged naked through the city of London. He was then drawn, hanged, but released while still alive. He was disemboweled, beheaded and then quartered. Find ye, the piece, a warning to thee and thou countrymen, to remain loyal to your good and rightful King Edward I of England.” Gregor took a deep breath. “I have…” Lord, how did he tell his king he had Wallace’s arm? “Samuel, can ye…?”
“Aye, my laird.” Samuel retreated from the room to gather the carefully guarded chest in which their general’s limb rested.
“I also have a part of him,” Robert the Bruce said. “They dispatched his quarters to Scotland. I have his left leg, which they sent to Berwick. It arrived yesterday morning.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The king slowly turned, his face full of regret and sadness. “We’ve lost both our guardians now. Both of the men who rallied our country into rebellion, who stood behind me. I will fight for them. Every battle from now on will be in their honor, and I will not stop until this country sees its independence.”
Gregor knelt, and so did Samuel. “Ye have my allegiance, my loyalty and the use of my body and my men for as long as ye need it.”
“This country needs ye,” Robert said. “More now than ever. The people will grieve deeply for Wallace, as do I. There will be many who question if we can go further.”
“We can and we will. And…” Gregor hated this part of his duties, the bearer of such news. “There is more, my lord.”
“Tell me.”
“’Twas a Scotsman, in league with the English, who took him. Someone Wallace trusted.”
“Do ye know who it is? I want his head.”
“The man is ensconced in London right now, but I have spies set out. We are working to find out his identity. The moment he steps foot back in Scotland, we will bring ye his head. And I believe, Samuel here, can get answers.”
“Good.” The Bruce nodded. “It smells of Comyn.”
“Aye.”
“I canna wait to crush that man.”
“And we will. While ye have the council gathered, we should plan our next attack.”
The Bruce nodded. “I agree. For now, keep this news to yourselves. And Samuel, gather what ye need to depart, sooner than later.”
“Aye, my lord,” Samuel agreed.
Gregor handed the Bruce the missive. “May I beg a question, my lord?”
The Bruce nodded, tucking the missive into a locked chest.
“What are the Warriors of God doing here?”
The Bruce laughed. “I wondered when ye were going to ask. Wallace’s other arm was sent to Perth. They have delivered it to me.”
“And the nuns?”
“They were called by the abbot. ’Tis a fact the English have been ramming down abbey walls and raping the nuns within. The sisters who’ve come have a very powerful Abbess as their Mother Superior. While they live simply, their wealth is greater than most abbeys in Scotland. She also has the same privileges and rights as an abbot which is unheard of. That is all I know. But I suppose, he wants to see them protected, as a loss of Nèamh Abbey would be devastating to the churches within all of Scotland.”
Gregor nodded.
“Tell me why ye care, Buchanan. Why get into a fray with one of the church’s warriors?”
“Pride. Nothing more.”
Chapter Eight
The door to the refectory opened with a loud creak that
“Of course, my lord.” Gregor paused.
“What is it?”
“The council?”
“They dinna arrive until tomorrow or the next day. I would hear it now.”
Gregor opened his sporran and pulled out the missive. He opened it slowly, the words he’d read a dozen times before etched into his memory.
He cleared his throat and began to read. “Here ye, here ye, lo to the man who reads this news. William Wallace, traitor to the crown, has been executed on this day, the twenty-third of August, the year of our lord 1305. As befitting his crimes, Wallace was dragged naked through the city of London. He was then drawn, hanged, but released while still alive. He was disemboweled, beheaded and then quartered. Find ye, the piece, a warning to thee and thou countrymen, to remain loyal to your good and rightful King Edward I of England.” Gregor took a deep breath. “I have…” Lord, how did he tell his king he had Wallace’s arm? “Samuel, can ye…?”
“Aye, my laird.” Samuel retreated from the room to gather the carefully guarded chest in which their general’s limb rested.
“I also have a part of him,” Robert the Bruce said. “They dispatched his quarters to Scotland. I have his left leg, which they sent to Berwick. It arrived yesterday morning.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The king slowly turned, his face full of regret and sadness. “We’ve lost both our guardians now. Both of the men who rallied our country into rebellion, who stood behind me. I will fight for them. Every battle from now on will be in their honor, and I will not stop until this country sees its independence.”
Gregor knelt, and so did Samuel. “Ye have my allegiance, my loyalty and the use of my body and my men for as long as ye need it.”
“This country needs ye,” Robert said. “More now than ever. The people will grieve deeply for Wallace, as do I. There will be many who question if we can go further.”
“We can and we will. And…” Gregor hated this part of his duties, the bearer of such news. “There is more, my lord.”
“Tell me.”
“’Twas a Scotsman, in league with the English, who took him. Someone Wallace trusted.”
“Do ye know who it is? I want his head.”
“The man is ensconced in London right now, but I have spies set out. We are working to find out his identity. The moment he steps foot back in Scotland, we will bring ye his head. And I believe, Samuel here, can get answers.”
“Good.” The Bruce nodded. “It smells of Comyn.”
“Aye.”
“I canna wait to crush that man.”
“And we will. While ye have the council gathered, we should plan our next attack.”
The Bruce nodded. “I agree. For now, keep this news to yourselves. And Samuel, gather what ye need to depart, sooner than later.”
“Aye, my lord,” Samuel agreed.
Gregor handed the Bruce the missive. “May I beg a question, my lord?”
The Bruce nodded, tucking the missive into a locked chest.
“What are the Warriors of God doing here?”
The Bruce laughed. “I wondered when ye were going to ask. Wallace’s other arm was sent to Perth. They have delivered it to me.”
“And the nuns?”
“They were called by the abbot. ’Tis a fact the English have been ramming down abbey walls and raping the nuns within. The sisters who’ve come have a very powerful Abbess as their Mother Superior. While they live simply, their wealth is greater than most abbeys in Scotland. She also has the same privileges and rights as an abbot which is unheard of. That is all I know. But I suppose, he wants to see them protected, as a loss of Nèamh Abbey would be devastating to the churches within all of Scotland.”
Gregor nodded.
“Tell me why ye care, Buchanan. Why get into a fray with one of the church’s warriors?”
“Pride. Nothing more.”
Chapter Eight
The door to the refectory opened with a loud creak that
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