The Forest Laird(60)
“Is he likely to send his people sniffing around Sir Malcolm’s place, think you?”
Father Peter shrugged. “He might, but it will do him no good. You won’t be there and Mal is ready for him. Should he trespass too far, he will rue it. My brother is no man’s fool, and more than a match for any shiftless ne’er-do-well, rich or no. In the meantime, though, you must be on your way. Do you have everything you need?”
Will was eyeing the bales of wool. “Aye, Uncle, everything. Food for a week, ample clothing, and a good supply of arrows and bowstrings. We require nothing else. But I’m curious. How much would those bales be worth?”
Uncle Peter’s eyes narrowed at the unexpected question. “They have great value—sufficient to purchase daily Masses for a year, I would guess. Why do you ask?”
“Merchant Waddie is not known for his generosity. I’m surprised he would put up so much to pray for the soul of a man who was not related to him.”
Father Peter smiled. “I’m sure he hopes the old man’s wealthy son will be related to him soon. And besides, he’ll doubtless retrieve two more in recompense from the old man’s storehouses.”
Will reached out to touch one of the bales. “Aye, I suppose he will, now that you mention it.” He straightened. “I should be going now, Father.”
“Aye, you should. I wish you God speed and hope to see your frowning face again within a month or two. Kneel down now, and I’ll bless you.”
I walked back with my cousin to where Ewan waited with the horses, and as we went Will draped a long arm over my shoulders, pulling me close to him. “Work hard at your priestery, Jamie,” he said quietly. “You’ll be a good one someday.”
I grinned and pulled away from him. “Priestery, is it? That’s a word I’ve never heard before. Well, I intend to be good at it and I promise you, I’m working hard at it. How long d’you think it will take you to reach Selkirk?”
“Oh, I don’t know … D’you mean the forest or the town?” Then, before I could respond, he said, “I’m going to need to write to Mirren soon, Jamie, to warn her about Graham and let her know where I’m going. I’ll send the letter to you within the next few days. Waste no time getting it to her, will you?”
“You know I won’t. I’ll look out for it. Now get out of here and be safe, and I’ll see you again soon.”
Had anyone asked me when we might meet next, it would have been inconceivable to me that two years would go by before I saw either one again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
1
When I bade farewell to Will and Ewan at the Abbey gates that day in 1290, I had no notion that Will had already changed his mind about where they would go and what they would do as soon as they were out of my sight. He told me nothing, in order to protect me from the need to lie later, and for the next two years I remained unaware of the truth, immersed in my studies.
It was some time before the matter of Alexander Graham’s perfidy was settled. For many months, Robert Bruce’s affairs took him far into the northeast, and he returned to the south only in early August. He stopped in Glasgow to confer with Bishop Wishart before continuing south to Lochmaben, his home castle near the English border. It was during that meeting that Wishart told the patriarch about the slaughtered herd of Bruce deer and the attempt to foist the blame upon Sir Malcolm Wallace’s nephew, reminding Bruce that he himself had met Will in the Bishop’s own palace precisely at the time the deadly charges of poaching were being brought against him. Shortly thereafter, Bruce arrived in Elderslie to speak with Sir Malcolm, and within hours, officers were dispatched to arrest Alexander Graham of Kilbarchan and bring him to the Wallace house for trial.
Graham protested his innocence, claiming that the case against him was untenable, but Robert Bruce’s certainty about Will’s innocence was absolute. The suspicions surrounding the events, including the one-sided rivalry over Mirren, attested to by herself in writing and witnessed by her local priest, combined with the mysterious disappearance of the perjured Tidwell, the sole witness against Will but far more likely a potential witness against Graham, proved overwhelming. Bruce’s judgment was Draconian. Graham of Kilbarchan was hanged on August 25th, his entire estate forfeited to Robert Bruce, in whose employ he had been and whose good name he therefore impugned when the crimes were committed. Bruce offered the estate to Sir Malcolm, as reparation for the harm done his family, but the knight refused any part of it.
Will Wallace was free to come home to Elderslie. But he did not do so.