I held the flap up on the side and paused before entering — twas dark but I could sense there were many men, making this a dangerous situation. My men filed past me intae the shelter, one pushing our hostage, Thomas Hayden, tae the side. I nodded Archibald toward the back wall.
I ducked my head, the last tae enter.
It took a moment for m’eyes tae adjust — tae see the English King, Edward, sitting on a carved throne with about fifteen men behind him. Beside him was a table, and on the table was a battery-powered lamp.
When I noted it, I met his eyes, and he smirked.
My eyes traveled across the other men. I dinna recognize any of them, twas dark in the tent and they looked shadowy, the look of men who had been livin’ in an encampment for a long time. I couldna tell if any of them were time travelers, but Edward’s lamp was meant tae signal tae me that this was not an ordinary medieval negotiation.
I glanced at Fraoch, he sneered, his battle face on.
Cailean looked around irritatedly. “Where is Mag Mòr’s chair?” Without waiting for an answer he told one of my men tae draw a chair over from their side.
Edward spoke. “I’ll say when he gets a chair, first, this man must bow tae me.”
“I hae told ye, when I was but a lowly man putting forth a claim tae be a king, and I will say it only once more — I am a king. I winna bow tae ye, Eddie, I am Mag Mòr, cousin tae Cailean Campbell of Loch Awe, of the lineage of Normand the First, son of Donnan the Second, winner of the jousts in yer games, and I was foretold tae be the next King of Scotland by Morag, the Seer of Glencoe. She was correct, by the by, I amking. Crowned at Scone, in the year of our Lord one thousand two hundred ninety, King of all Alba, Magnus the First. Ye are on my lands, in the shadow of m’castle, ye ought tae bow tae me.”
“Never.”
I nodded. “Tis what it is then, we both sit.”
Cailean nodded at m’man, he dragged the chair across the mud-covered rug, and set it behind me. I lowered myself into it. Haggis sat down beside my feet. I raised my brow. “And tis amusin’, Eddie, that ye believe ye can offer yer opinion onanythin’we do with our kingdom.”
I watched him shift.
I saw his eyes go tae the lamp.
I said, “Ye hae learned some things about the world since I saw ye last.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Have you been to the world where these lamps are made?”
I leaned back in my chair, sprawling my legs. “I am akingin the world where those lamps are made.”
I kept my eyes on Edward, but in the periphery I watched the faces of the men behind him, looking for the time traveler. He must be here. But where?
Then I realized that Ididrecognize one of the men. I said, over m’shoulder, “Fraoch, dost ye see who is there in the back?”
“Nae, I daena recognize anyone.”
“Tis William Wallace.”
The young man set his jaw.
Fraoch said, “The scoundrel who cut ye?”
“Aye, he was younger then—” I said, louder, “Take yer hood down, Wallace. Let me see ye.”
The man shook his hood off and glared.
I said, “Ye are a son of Alba! What are ye doin’ on that side of the tent?”
He grunted.
I said, “I am yer king and I asked ye a direct question.”
He said, with youthful righteousness, “I am on the side of King Edward.”
I shook my head. “Ye hae become a traitor.” I asked Fraoch, “What think ye on the young William Wallace becomin’ a traitor?”
