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"Kings'" Patric exploded once they were out of Malcolm's hearing. "I'm sick of them and their d.a.m.nedroyal ambitions. When this war is over, I am going home to Laggan, and I may never leave it again. I'vehad enough of courts and kings."
"I share your disgust, but I will stay at court and use my influence to moderate Malcolm's ambition. Hehas the potential to be a good king, but he is young and inexperienced. At least," Conal added, "we arestill free men. I thought he would have us jailed for treason."
"He needs us," Patric grumbled. "His position is not so strong as he pretends."
Conal considered this.
"He is right about the need to remove Lulach, but I cannot stomach the thought of that poor fool being led to the slaughter like a sheep."
"Lulach should be warned," Patric said. "He deserves a chance to die like a man."
"Patric-" Conal's tense voice held a cautionary note. Patric cut him off.
"If we bring Gertha and her children back here, Malcolm will kill them as soon as Lulach is dead."
"You cannot help them, my friend."
"I can at least try. I cannot go myself. If I leave this camp before he does, Malcolm would guess at oncewhat I was doing. Conal, I want you to leave me now. For Fionna's sake as well as yours, I don't wantyou to know anything about my plans."
Conal put out his hand and Patric took it."Good luck," Conal said, and went away to his own tent.Patric found Nechtan."I have a mission for you," he said. "When youreturn, you are to make your report to no one but me."
Lulach had brought his entire household south from Burghead. Gertha and her two children shared a large tent. Nearby was a smaller tent, which Elen shared with Ava, and a third tent for Clare and her husband Domingart. He and Bran were Lulach's closest advisors.
Elen had grown friendly with the quiet, serious Clare. On this day they were both in attendance on Gertha, when Lulach and Domingart appeared.
"My scouts have located Malcolm's army a short distance southwest of here," Lulach said. "We will meet him in battle in a day or two."
"My lord," Clare said nervously, "Do you think Queen Gertha and the children should be placed so near an enemy army?"
"I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps you are right. But I want Gertha near me. And you, Elen."
"We will stay with you, my lord," Gertha said firmly. "Knowing we are nearby and that our safety depends on them, our soldiers will surely fight even more valiantly than they otherwise would. And when victory is ours, your family will be here to celebrate with you."
"Yes, I think you are right, my dear. Stay then. You will be safe enough here. Malcolm won't make war on women and children."
Elen disagreed with Lulach. She was not afraid for herself, or for Gertha, who made her own decisions.
It was the children who concerned her. When Lulach and Domingart left Gertha's tent, Elen excused herself and followed them, intending to plead with Lulach to send the children back to Burghead, where
they would be safe.
As she stepped out of Gertha's tent, Drust moved into place beside her and accompanied her. She sawthere was a heavier than usual guard about Lulach's tent, and men were entering in more than usual haste.Lulach must be holding a meeting of his captains. Her request would have to wait until later. She went toher own tent. As Drust pulled back the flaps to let her enter, Elen heard him utter a startled exclamation.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
"No, lady, I only remembered a ch.o.r.e I forgot to do. Will you stay in your tent now? I'll return soon toguard you.""I will, and Ava will be with me."Drust watched Elen inside, then turned and strode quickly to Lulach's tent. The guards there, who knew he often carried messages from Elen to Lulach, let him enter without question.
"Nechtan!" Drust stared at the man kneeling before Lulach. "I thought it was you I saw being dragged injust now. What are you doing here?""Be careful," Bran warned. "He was heavily armed.""He can hardly hurt me on his knees with you holding a dagger at his throat," Drust responded calmly."Do you know him?" Bran demanded."I do, and I think he would do King Lulach no harm, even if you were to let him stand.""Drust, who is he?" Lulach asked. , "He was the captain of your cousin Elen's household guard at Laggan. He now serves her husband. Nechtan, have you a message for my lady?"
"Not for her, but for Prince Lulach," Nechtan said."He is King Lulach," Bran declared, givingNechtan a hard push."Let him stand," Lulach said. "Let him deliver this message from my cousin Malcolm."
"It is not from Malcolm that I come," Nechtan said, straightening his tunic, "But from Patric mac Keith."
"What has he to do with King Lulach?" asked Domingart.
"My lords, I am sent to warn you that Malcolm plans an ambush tomorrow. He will kill all of you if he can, as you march to meet him, while you are yet unprepared for battle."
Lulach, white to the lips, tried to speak, but could get no words out.
"How do we know your message is not in itself some kind of trap?" Bran demanded.
Nechtan ignored him and spoke directly to Lulach.
"My master told me to beg you to believe me, in the name of the love you have always borne for yourcousin Elen and the love she has for you. You are greatly outnumbered by Malcolm's army. You havetime to flee northward if you would save yourself, my lord. Whatever you decide to do, my master begsyou send the women and children back to Burghead. I was to remind you that you should want your sonto survive."
"Even if I die." A little color had come back into Lulach's ashen face. "Patric mac Keith would not flee from danger, would he?"
"No, my lord.""Nor would Macbeth. Neither will I.""But, my lord!" Domingart cried, "It is a trap."
"It's no trap if we know Malcolm's plan," Bran growled. "We should stay and fight."
"We will," Lulach said in a surprisingly decisive tone. "Nechtan, can you read a map? Do you know where Malcolm plans to meet us?"
"Yes, my lord." Nechtan walked to a table where several maps lay open. He looked at them in silence for a while, then laid one finger on a spot "Here is the place. My master knew no more of the plan than its location. He and the Earl of Fife refused to take part in it, and so they were not given information about it."
"I don't think we should trust this man," Bran said. "Perhaps a little torture would wring more information from him."
"I have told you the truth, my lords."
"We'll find that out before we kill you," Bran snarled.
"No," Lulach said. "I will not repay a kindness with torture and death. Nechtan, will you linger to take some food with us? No. Then you are free to go, with my blessing and my thanks."
"He may have been a spy," Bran said after Nechtan had left. "We should follow him."
"Sir," Drust said quietly, "I know that man well. I believe he spoke the truth."
"I agree with you, Drust." Lulach had apparently lost all of his earlier fear.
"Do not tell the women about this message," he ordered. "I don't want to frighten them. We will arrange for them to go north at dawn. We'll get little sleep this night, my friends. We have a new battle plan to devise. We will show Malcolm how bravely the men of Moray can fight."
Malcolm positioned his army so that its center faced a narrow valley through which Lulach's forces must march to reach the open plain where Lulach would most likely choose to meet him Lulach was to believe Malcolm would wait until both armies were drawn up in battle order, a period of at least one day. But Malcolm did not plan to wait. His right and left flanks were stationed out of sight on the hillsides above the valley. A fourth part of the army, composed of Nors.e.m.e.n from Orkney and Norway, had been dispatched with orders to tide around the hills unseen, and after Lulach's army had entered the valley, block off its northern end so there could be no retreat.
"He'll be boxed in," Malcolm said, his contempt for his cousin plain to hear. "I know Lulach. He's stupid and weak. When he sees me, he'll surrender and I'll kill him, and that will be the end of it. But just in case some of his men decide to fight, we will be well prepared. If anyone tries to escape at the other end of the valley, the Nors.e.m.e.n will cut them down. It should take less than half the morning. This will be a glorious day."
"A shameful day for Alba," Patric said as he and Conal left the tent that served as Malcolm's headquarters.
"There is nothing we can do now but follow our orders," Conal replied. "We must take some of our men and go capture the women. I pray heaven we don't find them."
They made a wide circle around Malcolm's army, and in late morning found Lulach's nearly deserted camp. Dismounting, they crept along the side of a hill, sheltered by rocks and bushes, until they were near enough to look down into the cl.u.s.ter of tents.
"No sign of women," Conal noted. He pointed. "That is where the wounded will be brought-see the supplies of bandages-and there are the extra horses."
Nechtan, on Patric's other side, agreed.
"That empty place next to the largest tent is where Queen Gertha lived. There were smaller tents around it for the ladies. They are all gone now, my lords."
"Then we will a.s.sume your visit here was not in vain, Nechtan." Patric started back toward the horses and his men who waited some distance away. "We had better capture those poor souls who are left down there, and take them back as prisoners to appease Malcolm. It's hardly worth attacking them."
Lulach's followers put up a surprisingly strong resistance. It was several hours later when the few survivors were tied together with rope and prodded toward Malcolm's camp. Patric personally destroyed the evidence that clearly indicated the women had fled toward Burghead He hoped by doing so to delay Malcolm's inevitable pursuit, thus giving Gertha and her party a better chance of reaching safety.
"G.o.d, Conal, I'm sick of killing. This was ridiculous, and that senseless ambush-they'll all die in that valley." Patric ran his hands through his hair. "I'm glad I warned them. At least Lulach was able to make a choice about meeting Malcolm And I'm glad the women escaped. Elen-"
"Let's go," Conal said.
As they rode back toward Malcolm's encampment, the sounds of battle grew louder. They were drawn toward the noise. In silent agreement the two friends and Nechtan turned their horses and rode toward it, signaling their men to take the prisoners on to the camp.
By the time they reached the valley, the slaughter was almost done. Bodies littered the hillside. The noise was retreating northward as Malcolm's army pursued the last remnants of Lulach's men into the arms of the waiting Vikings.
"Have you come to see the end of it?" Malcolm called. He was on foot, his red-gold banner, held by an aide, flaring out above him in the breeze. He towered half a head above the men who formed a circle about him. "Join us. You are welcome, though the men of Laggan and Fife will get no booty from this day's work."
As Patric and Conal and Nechtan drew nearer, Malcolm turned back to the sagging hulk before him.
"Here are my men, cousin," Malcolm said sweetly. "They have captured your wife and babes. After I've finished with you, I'll kill them, too."
Lulach, held upright between two strong soldiers by the stumps of his arms, flung back his head. Over Malcolm's shoulder he could see Patric and Conal, still mounted on their horses, and behind Patric, Nechtan.
Lulach's eyes locked on Patric's. Patric shook his head, denying Malcolm's words. He saw by the ghost of a smile twisting the b.l.o.o.d.y gash that was once Lulach's mouth, that Lulach had understood him.
"No," Lulach gasped. "They are safe. Safe. They have escaped you, fiend."
"We'll see about that. You will not escape me, Lulach the Fool." Malcolm raised his sword arm.
Lulach's feet were so badly mutilated he could not stand by himself, but with a final effort he drew himself up between the two men who supported him and waited for Malcolm's blow. His eyes never left Patric'
s.
"Thank you, my friend," Lulach said clearly.
Malcolm's sword arm slashed down.
Patric turned his head away from the thing that lay on the ground before Malcolm, and looked instead at a nearby flowering tree just coming into bloom. The air was soft and warm that day. It was spring, and new life was flooding back into the land. The shattering irony of it was not lost upon him as he thought of cold treachery and bleak death. Glancing back toward his king a moment later with his face carefully composed, he watched as Malcolm wiped his blade and sheathed it.
"That was a fool indeed," Malcolm said. "Did you hear him? He thanked me for killing him, the weakling. And now I have won. Alba is mine at last."
A cheer went up from the men surrounding Malcolm. It carried along the valley until it echoed back to him in the voices of his men returning from the annihilation of the last of Lulach's army.