“He’s the leader o’ the Englishry that’s here wi’ you?”
“No, that’s Sir Christopher Guiscard. He’s well enough disposed towards me and he commands a hundred mounted men-at-arms whose task is to support the sappers he has with him. Guiscard’s a siege engineer above all else, and his concern is all about his engines and their fields of fire, and so he’s content to leave command of the men-at-arms to his subordinate, Sir Roger Turcott. And Turcott’s what you might expect him to be—a stolid, unimaginative turnip head.”
“Then what’s your difficulty with this clerk Benstead?”
“I detest the man. He offends everything that’s in me. I would love to send him packing back to Berwick, but I can’t.”
“Why no’? Ye’re the Earl o’ Carrick. Are ye no’ in charge o’ the whole thing?”
“Yes, according to Edward’s instructions. I am.”
“Then send the whoreson packin’.”
“I can’t. He’s given me no real reason to dismiss him and he was appointed to his task, whatever it really is, by Edward himself. I cannot simply send him home because I mislike the man.”
“Hmm. Then why d’ye dislike him so much, gin he’s done nothin’ wrang?”
Bruce took another sip from his cup, rolling the liquid around his mouth before answering. “Thomas Beg told me all about him in Berwick when first we heard he would attach himself to us. He’s a crawling toady, bowing and fawning to everyone he deems his superior or whom he senses might be useful to him. That’s bad enough, but on the other side he is a vicious, overbearing bully to anyone he feels is beneath him. God help the hapless servant who falls afoul of that humble priest. Even his looks offend me. He’s big and burly and yet cowering. Broad shouldered and ugly, with a face like a hatchet, all bumps and lumps and eyebrows and nose—a great, long, lumpy nose that should have been flattened when he was a babe in arms, if ever he was.”
“Aye … And how does he behave when he’s around you?”
“Well, I’m an earl, you see, so he oozes and bobs up and down, rubbing his hands as though he were washing them and practically quivering with pleasure when I notice him.”
“Aye, so the best thing ye could do is ignore him. There’s nothin’ ye have to trust him wi’, is there?” Bruce shook his head. “Well then, he canna betray ye, can he? Stay aware o’ where he is and what he does, then, and just ignore him ayont that. Ye’ll be glad ye did.”
“It’s like feeling someone is standing at your back with a dagger in his hand.”
Jardine grunted. “Well then, I dinna ken what mair to tell ye. Ye’ll just hae to watch him like a hawk … ” He put his mug down on the small table beside him. “So ye’ll no’ be needin’ my men?”
“I don’t know, my friend, and that’s the truth of it … I might not, but then again I might, and if I do I’ll need them badly—some of them, at least.”
Jardine frowned. “I hope you ken what you’re talkin’ about, Lord Carrick, for I don’t.”
“How familiar are you with the countryside around Douglas Castle? Do you know if there’s a place nearby where you could hold two hundred men unseen and get them to me quickly should the need arise?”
Jardine’s eyes narrowed in thought. “I’m no’ that familiar wi’ it, but I ken o’ one place that might suit. There’s but one road leadin’ there frae here, an’ it crosses another road about a mile short o’ the castle hill. The crossroads is in the middle o’ the woods, so it’s well out o’ sight of the castle, even frae the top o’ the hill. They’re hawthorn woods for the maist part but there’s a big auld ash tree there, blasted wi’ lightnin’ years ago, that ye canna miss. We could wait there, I jalouse, and gin ye need us we could be wi’ ye in a half-hour o’ gettin’ word. What’s in your mind?”
“My gransser. He used to say a good commander keeps his mind on what might be needed, forbye what’s clearly needed. And that’s what I’m trying to do.” Bruce stooped and placed his long-empty cup on the floor by his feet. “I’m not convinced I’m right—not by a long stretch—but I’ve learnt to trust my instincts when they shout at me. If I’m wrong, there will be no harm done and your men will be in no danger. I still believe what I said earlier about placing no demands on the Annandale men. If I’m right, though, and there’s treachery of any kind afoot, I’ll send Thomas Beg to bring you back to join us. You can be sure from the moment you see him that there’s something far wrong. Will you do that for me?”