Part 1 (1/2)

CIRCLE OF.

HONOR.

a novel.

CAROL UMBERGER.

The Scottish crown series.

DEDICATION.

To the memory of Richard V. Umberger.

With love to Betty J. Umberger.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

THANKS AND PRAISE to G.o.d for the gift of storytelling and for giving me the courage to pursue a dream.

Thanks to my friends and mentors in Pikes Peak Romance Writers for their support and encouragement.

A special thanks to Angel Smits, friend, walking partner, and brainstorming genius. We did it!

And thanks to my constantly patient, always supportive husband Tom, and to our sons, Dan and Dave, who understand when I'm ”lost” in another century.

AUTHOR'S NOTES.

EVA MACPHERSON AND ANGUS MACKINTOSH were indeed married in 1291, uniting Clan Chattan with the Mackintosh clan and causing a Mackintosh to become chief of this federation. Although Eva's uncle is thought to have pet.i.tioned Robert the Bruce to prevent this, the fact is that for over six hundred years the federation was led by a Mackintosh. In 1936, the clans became separate ent.i.ties, with never a drop of blood shed between them.

Robert the Bruce did, sadly, kill John Comyn in Greyfriars Church. And although Bruce was unusually forgiving toward most of his enemies, he was ruthless in his treatment of the Comyns. If you would like to read more about this incredible period of history, I can recommend Ronald McNair Scott's book Robert the Bruce, King of Scots (Carroll & Graf Publishers, Inc. 1996) as being highly readable and informative.

Clan Chattan supported Bruce at Bannockburn, but to my knowledge, Angus wasn't wounded, nor did he die until 1345 when his son William became laird. I have also taken liberties with the timing of certain events, in order to tell Adam's fict.i.tious story. I hope the reader will forgive any trespa.s.ses upon historical fact and will enjoy this story about what might have happened if a MacPherson had challenged his laird.

May Gwenyth and Adam's story inspire you with the sure belief that G.o.d controls everything and that victory always belongs to those who do his will.

ONE.

Dumfries, Scotland.

February 10, 1306.

ADAM MACKINTOSH tied his horse's reins to a post and followed his liege lord, Robert the Bruce, into Greyfriars Church. They stopped just inside the door, cautiously allowing their eyes to adjust to the weak wintry light filtering through the stained gla.s.s behind the altar.

Blowing on his numbed fingers, Adam thrust his hands under his armpits; the church was little warmer than the frosty morning outside. Robert motioned Adam to stand guard at the rear of the sanctuary, but Adam hesitated, silently questioning the earl with his eyes.

He didn't trust the man waiting by the altar, and Robert knew it. Not that Adam's opinion mattered. A moment later, the earl walked toward Sir John Comyn, lord of Badenoch. The two most powerful n.o.blemen in Scotland. If it wasn't so dangerous, if treachery didn't hang in the air, this meeting would be cause for celebration. Instead, the two greeted each other with cordial nods and stood face-to-face, hands at their sides. Both had high aspirations: Robert to the Scottish throne, Comyn to power and wealth, however it might be obtained. They had come to blows before, and Adam inched closer, the better to react quickly at the first sign of trouble. Comyn's own sentry stood in the shadow of one of the towering columns.

In the quiet of the church, their voices clearly carried. ”We had an agreement, Sir John. You agreed to renounce your family's claim to the throne. You promised to support my claim in return for my lands in Carrick. Is that not so?”

Adam heard the controlled temper in the earl's voice. After their misadventure last night, Adam wanted to throttle John Comyn himself. He admired his liege's determination to seek a peaceful resolution, despite the man's treacherous act.

Comyn said nothing.

Robert pulled a doc.u.ment from inside his tunic. Unfolding it in hurried, jerking motions, he then jabbed it with his finger. ”Is this your seal or is it not?”

John Comyn glanced at the parchment. ”You know it is.”

Robert's voice rose. ”Then why have you betrayed me to Edward of England?”

”What proof have you that I've done such a thing?” John protested. But he nodded ever so slightly to the shadowy figure standing opposite Adam. Robert noticed it too. Adam laid his right hand on his sword hilt, ready to act should the need arise.

Bruce took a menacing step closer to Comyn and practically shoved the paper in Comyn's face. ”Because this is your copy, Lord Badenoch, taken from the men who nearly captured me last night.”

Sir John's expression hardened. ”My cousin, Edward Balliol, is the rightful heir to the throne of Scotland. Not you. You tricked me into signing that scurrilous agreement, and I renounce it. My brother and I hold land and castles from one end of Scotland to another, enough to withhold the crown from you and put Balliol on the throne. And we shall do so.”

He pushed Bruce, trying to shove the earl aside. But Bruce stepped back in front of Sir John, blocking his way. Sir John withdrew his dagger and, at Adam's shout of warning, chaos broke out. Comyn's sentry raced toward Bruce, but Adam intercepted him and intercepted the man's sword just short of Bruce's exposed back. They fought for several minutes, the sentry's sword coming uncomfortably close to Adam's neck. But he drove the man back and back until he slipped and fell, and by a stroke of fortune, hit his head, and was knocked unconscious.

The sounds of fighting had alerted the others waiting outside the church, and they all came running, immediately taking up arms against their foe. The sanctuary's stone walls rang with the sounds of cursing, the clash of swords, but Adam had but one thought: Bruce.

Panting, he whirled and rushed back to defend the earl. But there was little he could do but stand aside and watch.

Sir John swiped his dagger at Bruce again and again, missing his target, becoming more and more careless with each thrust, his anger and frustration building. Bruce's aim was better. After three quick jabs, John Comyn clutched his chest and sank to the floor.

Although a seasoned warrior, Bruce looked down at John Comyn in shock. Adam grabbed Bruce's arm and nearly dragged him through the doorway toward safety. Adam urged the earl to mount his horse, which he did slowly, as if his body carried heavy armor. By now the brief skirmish was nearly over. Roger Kirkpatrick, who had remained outside with the horses, asked, ”My laird, what happened in there?”

”I think I have killed John the Red Comyn,” Bruce said, numbly staring ahead.

”Do you doubt it?” Kirkpatrick shouted. ”Then I'll make sure the traitor is dead!” He dashed back inside, followed closely by Adam. Kirkpatrick reached Sir John first and stabbed him with his sword. Comyn's body jerked and he breathed his last. Despite the heady rush of battle and John Comyn's part in his own downfall, Adam regretted the man's death. Nothing good would come of this day.

Comyn's men had already lowered their weapons, looking at one another in mute disbelief. As Sir John's men gathered around their fallen leader, Adam and his compatriots returned to the earl.

”He is dead, my lord,” Fitzpatrick announced quietly. With the encounter over and reason returning, they realized the gravity of killing a man in a church.

Adam looked to where the earl sat his horse. ”What next, my lord?”

Glancing at his bloodstained hands, the earl of Carrick seemed at a loss. Adam knew Robert's options were few. All was lost with King Edward of England, who no doubt viewed Robert's agreement with Comyn as treason. Nothing could be done to restore that relations.h.i.+p now. Comyn's treachery had destroyed any peaceful means to the restoration of Scotland's throne.

They sat on their horses, not knowing whether, or where, to flee.

Kirkpatrick asked, ”Is it Norway, then? Shall we seek shelter with your sister and her husband the king?”