“Then why don’t you speak up?”
‘Me, speak up? Who would listen to me? I’m a forester, Jamie, a verderer. I have no voice that anyone would hear, let alone listen to.”
“Uncle Malcolm would listen.”
“Aye, he might, because I’m family and he likes me, but would he change his mind? That would mean thinking about doing something to change things … and that’s a daunting thought.”
“More people than you think are starting to grow angry, Will. There’s a great swell of discontent spreading everywhere in Scotland nowadays, I’m told.”
“Told by whom?” His eyes were suddenly wide with interest.
I shrugged. “Travellers, visiting priests.”
“Aye, well you know what I think of most priests. They’re great talkers, but they don’t often do much more that that. I put more faith in my opinion of visiting soldiery, and it’s plain to me what that opinion is. The English are here apurpose, and they won’t leave until they have achieved whatever is in their minds, and that means in the mind of their King, this Edward Plantagenet.”
“He is a noble and most Christian monarch, Will. A Crusader.”
He looked at me for long moments and then he hawked and spat into the dying fire. “He’s an Englishman, Jamie, so I mistrust him. If he’s so hotly bound on the welfare of our realm, why has he sent so many of his people here? What’s his intent? And what does he want of us? Today he claims the title overlord of Scotland. What will he claim tomorrow, when his troops are everywhere from Berwick to Elgin?”
4
Will’s love for Mirren, and hers for him, had seemed invincible by the time she left Paisley that first summer, and neither of them had doubted that they would soon be man and wife. Since then, however, it seemed to both of them that Fate itself was conspiring to keep them apart.
Will spent the winter making arrows, not only yard-long shafts for his own enormous weapon but hundreds of shorter missiles for the smaller, flat bows in common use among the Scots, and he had planned to sell them in Glasgow or Edinburgh that autumn, once they were fully cured and fletched, adding the proceeds to his marriage fund. He bore the news stoically when Mirren’s letter arrived, telling him she would not be coming to Paisley that summer because of her mother’s failing health, but I could see that he was devastated, faced with another yawning year before he would see her again. But then, being William Wallace, who thrived in adversity, he resolved to go to her instead. He sought a month-long leave from Sir Malcolm, who granted it without hesitation since his estates had never been in better condition, and Will set off for Lanark.
He stopped to visit me on his way though Paisley, riding one of Sir Malcolm’s finest horses, and I could tell he was apprehensive about what he might find upon his arrival in Lanark, for he had not had time to write and tell Mirren he was coming. But he was almost too impatient to sit still as he spoke of his love for her and his determination to ride all the way there without stopping, scoffing at the mere scores of forested miles that separated them.
I laughed with him, and wished him God speed, and then I walked with him to the Abbey gates to see him on his way with my prayers to accompany him. But as he swung around to mount his horse, we heard his name being called and turned back to see the distinctively green-cassocked Bishop Wishart of Glasgow trotting across the grassy forecourt towards us, waving his arms to attract our attention. Will waved back, still holding his reins, then turned to me.
“Did you know he was here?”
“Not at all. He wasn’t expected. He must have arrived this morning, while I was in the library.”
The aging Bishop was slightly breathless by the time he reached us.
“William,” he gasped, eyeing the reins in Will’s hand. “I’m glad I caught you. Are you leaving?”
“Aye, my lord, I’m on my way to Lanark. I stopped by to say goodbye to Jamie.”
His lordship acknowledged me with a smile and a nod, but turned directly to Will again. “I had been thinking of you as I walked, enjoying the day, and then I turned to retrace my steps and there you were. It was most fortunate.”
Will cocked his head. “You were thinking of me, my lord? You’ll pardon me, but you and I have not set eyes upon each other these two years. Why should you think of me today?”
“I shouldn’t have. I had other things to ponder, of great import to this realm, but something that caught my eye reminded me of the occasion when I met you and young Andrew Murray near here, and then I found myself daydreaming.” He glanced at Will’s horse. “Must you leave this minute, or can you grant me a little time?”