The knight's bride (Historical romance)

Closed for DeliciousMaiden.

Near Stirling, Scotland in the year of 1314

Alan of Strode made a grimace at the suffocating sweet smell of death and corruption. The fever was ravishing. Tavish would be lucky to live until dawn. Alan's own wound was small in comparison and it ached in sympathy.

"Four days, five at most. Then your lovely lady will take care of you. We will make it Tav."

He forced himself to sound cheerful. Trying not to listen to Tavish´s whimpering Alan occupied himself by going through one of the English packs he had taken after the battle. He unwrapped a red under coat with a yellow stripe. Fine stuff he thought and rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

In another pack he found an ornamented silver pitcher, that he filled with good Scottish liquor.

"See how much of this you can drink Tav. It will still hurt, but you won´t care as much."

Tavish pushed the pitcher away.

"It will only numb me from the chin and up." He said with a weak voice.
"Do you have a feather pen?" His voice, broken with pain. Alan looked in his leather pouch. "Yes, and i have some ink and parchment to." He tried to keep his voice as merry as he could. "Are you fit to write?

Tavish gave a weak nod. "Help me sit up." He whispered.

An half hour later he finished the letter and let the feather pen slip from his hand. "There." For a while he closed his tired eyes before he opened them and met Alans steady gaze.

"See if you agree." He quietly says to Alan.
"This?" Alan asks while biting his lower lip. He touched the parchment with leaning signs that had no meaning to him.

"It is commands to my wife." Tavish explained with a tormented look in his eyes. His hands clenched around the blanket he lay on, so his knuckles whitened. His breathing became shallow and irregular.

"Good thinking, don´t you think?" Tavish said with an attempted smile. Alan let his eyes follow the figures on the parchment. "Well written Tav." He touched the parchment with his knuckle and smiled. "It is very good advices, and she will obey them if i have my say."

His friends peace of mind justified Alans little lie. And the noble lady would find comfort in her husbands dying wish, whatever it was.

Despite that he could see the roof of Saint Ninian from here, Alan knew that his friends death would come quicker if he tried to move him. It wasn´t fun to be forced to tell the noble lady that her husband had breathed his last breath under an old oak at the edge of the battleground. But no lies would make the truth any better.

Death was death and if there was a soul that could get to heaven without the last salvation, it was Tavish Ellerby´s. Everything south of Stirling lay in ashes. He prayed that Tavish´s home was outside of the armies movements.

What the english hadn´t ravaged during the past weeks, Robert Bruce himself had taken care of to keep the enemy going hungry and without roof over their heads. Now many Scots would suffer, even after they had won the battle.

Tavish reached out to Alan with his hand, gripping his arm.

"You will bring me home? And lay my body to rest down by the river? Don´t let Honor see me. Not like this. Promise me."

"Yes, i promise. I have your leg and bring that to. I promise in the name of god." Weak laughter followed his words.

"You plan of putting me back together?" Tavish´s eyes closed and the weakened body quivered.

"Alan, tell my Honor that my death are for the best. Tell her how much i loved her."

"She knows that Tav. I will sing it like a troubadour to her. I swear on it. Sweet memories she will cry over long after she becoming old and... Tav? Tavish?

Alan took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Burning tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Oh, Tav. think if your Honor could have seen you smile like that."

He watched the empty blue eyes for a long time. Before he finally reached down and closed them.

Burial ground

The river close to Byelough keep

Alan had brought Tavish home. The big stone looked like it had always been there. Alan loosened the rope between the rope and his horse and tied the horse at a tree near by. The blood sipped through the badly made bandage around his right shoulder. Damn it! The stitches had opened up again. He swore despite the knowledge that the fresh blood could save him from the same fate that took Tavish life. Hopefully all the poisons would sip out with the blood and the sweat.

With a piece of cloth he wiped his arm clean and hoped he hadn´t lost his needle. After casting a longing glance at the cold rushing water in the river he sat down beside the smooth, rounded stone and started to carve in it. With the help of a fist sized stone and Tavish´s broken broadsword he hammered in an image in the big stone.

Poor Tav, he thought while he worked. Had everything in life a man could wish for. A nice home, a beautiful wife and some money stashed away. Alan suspected that he would never experience something like that himself. Given the thought maybe Tavish was the lucky man after all. He had lived every mans dream.

"At least most men dream of it, not me of course." Alan muttered and kept on hammering. "You had everything, old friend, but you lost it to early."

When Alan was finished, the image of the shield was leaning towards one side and the wolfs head was looking like an bitten apple he thought. But Lady Honor could remake it if she liked. Right now it marked out the place. He sighed at his clumsy attempt and stapled up some small stones.

Then he stood up in his full length and stretched his legs. He drove down the broken broadswords edge in the ground. Doing so creating a cross, marking the burial ground.

"Good bless you Tavish Mac Ellerby." He whispered with bowed head. He thought of saying some more words to farewell, but suddenly the ground under his feet's shook with hoove beats that where closing in.

Alan turned towards the riders, drawing his broadsword and got in a better fighting position. At that moment he recognised the colors of the man in front. A golden lion on a red field. Bruce.

The riders surrounded him in a whirlwind of rattling armour and stamping hooves. Alan went down on one knee and smiled up to the man on the grey horse.

"We could have been Edwards men, Strode. Why didn´t you run and hide?" Bruce wondered.

Alan threw his head back and laughed. "If there is an Englishman still on this side of London i will kiss the ass of your horse and call it my sweetheart!"

Bruce dismounted and reached out his arm for a greeting hug. When he saw Alan's wound he tensed a little.

"We are gathering Douglas men a bit south of here and then continue to York. My brother told me he gave you leave of abscense after the victory and now i know why." Bruce wrinkled his nose at the blood that slowly sipped down Alan's arm.

"Look after that wound, or else we have to bury you. You can loose the arm." Alan nodded and looked away. "It will heal, i may join you later."

"Are you going to meet your father first?" Bruce asked with a warning in his voice.

"I never go to Rowicsburg." Alan responded. "I don´t go north either. I am finished with uncle Angus as well. Neil Broglan are his protege now and he will be a good lord. I have no ties to either part of my family." He leaned his head towards the new grave. "I am here because Tavish Ellerby sent with me commands to his wife. And the news of his death."

After this mission he had nowhere to go. His English father had sent him to the highlands, to his mothers peaple. When he was just a boy. The uncle that had raised him had choosed another nephew. A full blooded Scotsman, as next lord in the MacGill clan. It was just as it should be in Alan's opinion.

Life as a soldier fitted him well. But right now he could only be good with stubbornness and one healthy arm. Obviously his king had no use of either. "I believe you. It is common knowledge that you love the truth." Several in Bruce´s party nods at that statement. "Some say that you overdo it." More of the soldiers nod at that and exchange looks.

Alan knew why. He never told people what they liked to know if it wasn´t true. Not even when it served him better to lie than tell the truth. That was something his surrounding counted on. Alan was very proud of this trait. He was an honest man.

Bruce let his eyes go between the clumsy carved image in the stone and Alan. "Send my best wishes to the lady. I heard he fought well. Have he made plans for the lady and the property?"

"They are written and sealed sir. Between him and her i believe." Alan answered.

"Let me see Alan."

"I don´t think so. It is private words from death bed to his beloved."

Bruce turned away and went back and forth before he returned to Alan and looked up at him, as he was a head short.

"Give me the letter Strode, i command you."

Allan stiffened and his left hand gripped the hilt of his broadsword.

"But you have only a hand full men with you sir!" He remarked.

Bruce gritted his teeth's. During a whole second it looked like his eyes would pop out of it´s sockets before he burst out in laughter. Alan waited with an angelic smile on his lips. After a moment of silence Bruce sobered up and lay an arm friendly over Alans shoulder.

"Listen now Strode. Byelough keep is important because of it´s protected location. The hidden caves close to it can cover an whole army. I ´will not allow it to fall in enemy hands just because of a dead mans wishes. Therefore we could kill you and take the letter. I suspect that we would have no choice in the matter. Even if you outclassed my pitiful group and escaped to Byelough. I would simply follow you and demand it from the widow. Your choice."

Alan thought of Tavish´s wife's reaction. She would be upset enough as it was and a visit from Bruce wouldn´t be an improvement of that. Especially in the mood the king was in.

"Take it then." Alan reached his hand under his wide leather belt and drew out the letter and handed it to Bruce. "But i don´t like it."

Bruce broke the seal as he said. "And i don´t like you sometimes Strode. Maybe i should kill you for your nerve."

It was silent while Bruce read the letter. A calculating smile formed on his lips as he finished the reading and folded the parchment. Then the smile vanished.

"Down on your knees." He ordered Alan with a sharp voice. Alan kneeled down as Bruce drew his sword. Alan steeled himself when Bruce raised the blade to the level of Aland neck. He didn´t want to believe that Bruce would kill him, but couldn´t see it in any other way. He stood on his knees with the other mans blade at his neck. It seemed cowardly to protest and meaningless if Bruce was serious.

"Can i speak with a priest?" Alan asked while looking the king in the eyes.

"You would scare the clothes of the poor man and i have enough problems with the church." Bruce announced.

"Very well. Continue what you are doing then." He hoped that Bruce only wanted to scare him a little. Death was not very appealing to him, and dying here just seemed so pointless. He wasn´t afraid of death but had always thought he would face it on the battlefield. Determined to not be a coward he looks up at the king and says.

"You will regret this."

"Probably." Bruce chuckled before pressing the blade against Alan's neck. Then the sound of the kings loud voice.

"I knight you to Sir Alan of Strode." The blade gently touches first Alan's right shoulder and then his left. "Serve God and the king, protect the weak and fight for the right cause." He then held out the hilt for Alan to kiss.

The taste of metal against the lips. It was cool, lightly salt of sweat. He welcomed it as a lovers kiss in the morning. Kiss of life he thought relieved.

"Are you ready for the fist in your face?" Bruce asked, clearly amused by the whole thing. Alan stood up on shaky legs and nodded.

The kings fist landed right where it should and Alan fell to the ground. He just lay there dizzy for a moment as the king and the men laughed heartily.

"Stand up sir and do great deeds for Scotland. And please correct your kilt. Your own great deed are visible for the wind."

As fast as he could Alan stood up and bowed to his king. He had been knighted. By all his heart he wished that Tav had been here and witnessed this parody.

"Clean yourself up before you meet the lady Ellerby. You look like you have been drawn through a bloody swamp." Bruce smiled to Alan. "And tell her i agree to everything that is in the letter. I expect her to fulfill it exactly as it says."

With a final laugh the king mounts up and leads his men away.

Alan look long after them before he washes himself in the river and change clothes. When he feels ready he starts the short journey to the keep.

Reaching the gates he says to the guard there.

"I have news for Lady Honor Ellerby."

Lady Honor Ellerby

Honor sat at her needlework, the thread immobile in one hand with her head turned away towards the window, which overlooked the courtyard. How many times she had halted in her occupations to listen and hope against hope for news of her husband, or the event she wished for above all else, his home-coming.

This time she did not rise. Instead she cast her work aside with a sigh and fixed her eyes on the flames dancing in the hearth before her. Looking down at the wide gold band on her finger Honor thought of the ceremony that had joined her and Tavish a mere 15 months ago. By anyone’s calculations they were newly weds and given that he had been on the road fighting for at least half of the time they had only truly experienced settled married life for those first 6 months.

Her father had not approved of the marriage, though at 19 she was easily of marriageable age. Even the fact that the man of her choice was near to 15 years her senior was of no consequence. That Honor’s family was English and Tavish Scottish was the cause of much opposition. She smiled wistfully at her naivety back them. She had asked her father time and again of what consequence their backgrounds were? True she would be living up in Scotland and would miss her family dearly, but such was the duty of a wife, to follow her husband and oversee his property?

From the first, her head had been turned by the respect Tavish commanded amongst his men. She heard tales of his bravery and saw evidence of his strength. And yet compared to other men he was intelligent, even learned. He could read and write and speak well and had taken time to seek her out, to not only speak of himself, but to find out about her interests, her opinions and so had won her over with his gentle charm. As a husband Tavish had made her feel protected and loved. Even at times when away fighting, he had managed to send her rare letters, which she treasured as she awaited his return. In truth she was no “sturdy bride” and had truly had the appearance of a fragile English Flower, fair and slender, transplanted and exposed to the wild Scottish elements. Yet with his nurturing, she had survived and even thrived in her new home. Even now, she understood little of the political issues of the conflicts which so impacted on her existence and had come to love her Scottish home and the people around her. It never once crossed her mind that the Scots around her may resent her presence or that she may be in danger from those around her. Tavish would never allow that, even in his absence she was confident that no man would dare cause harm to his wife.

The knock on the door came as a surprise.
Turning she saw her Steward entering and announcing.

”My Lady. There is a gentleman ... he wishes to see you ... “

Nodding she responded.

”Of course ... but .. what gentleman ...? “

She could not judge the expression of the servant before her.

” ... One who brings ... news ... of your husband ... “

She was informed.

In one fluid movement, Honor was on her feet. Her clear blue eyes sparkling.

”Then of course ... show him through ... and bring refreshments for our guest. “

With the briefest bow, the man turned and waved Alan into the room.
Realising the visitor must have been just beyond the doorway, Honor moved to greet him.

” ... my apologies for keeping you waiting, Sir ... “

She extended a hand in welcome, her smile wide until she fully took in his appearance.

”You ... you come from my husband ...?”


She had a sense of foreboding. Something she could not quite define.
Yet she shook it off, her eyes dropping instead to the letter he held.

”You bring a letter!”

She exclaimed.

”It is ... beyond a month now since I have heard anything from his own hand ... “

Relief filled her features.

”Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable.
By the looks of you Sir, you have ridden far to deliver this ... “

She smiled softly.

”For which you have my eternal gratitude ... “

Tavish home was more impressive than Alan could remember since his last visit nearly 3 years earlier. He could understand why Bruce wanted it protected from English hands. Tavish was a clever man and Alan had all confidence in the man in his sense of duty. The fact that Bruce agreed to and even insisted to whatever was in the letter made him feel relieved, knowing that his friend's widow would be well taken cared for.

Standing in front of Lady Honor Ellerby Alan was pleasantly surprised that Tavish hadn't exaggerated her beauty. He hated the fact that his news to her would remove that soft smile from her lips. He sit down at her request and wait for her to seat herself. He tense a little and his hands lie unmoving on his kilt covered thighs.

"Lady Ellerby." Alan feel his throat tighten and his right shoulder ache as hell.

"Lady Ellerby. I am Alan of Strode" He start over again. "I come here on the behalf of my childhood friend and your husband." His hand grips the letter.

"I'm sorry to inform you that Tavish died in battle against the English a few days ago." Alan's voice break slightly, despite his effort to not show to much emotion.

"I have a letter with me that he wrote before he died. His last will and instructions to you." Alan tilt his head and hand over the letter. "I met Robert the Bruce on my way here and he read it and approve of it."

Alan watch as Honor read the letter from her husband and he feel a little more at ease now that his part in this was all but over. Only one more thing to do.

"If you ever need assistance i will be honored to help you in any way i can. I have brought Tavish with me and have laid him to rest at the river, just as he wanted."

“Lady Ellerby ... Lady Ellerby. I am Alan of Strode”

Honor nodded her head in acknowledgement of the introduction. Tavish had spoken of this man, she recalled and in the warmest tones.

“I come here on the behalf of my childhood friend and your husband.”

Again she smiled as he gripped the letter. It was clear that the man was injured, she realised belatedly. She opened her mouth to renew her gratitude, but remained silent as he continued.

“I’m sorry to inform you that Tavish died in battle against the English a few days ago.”

The statement felt like a physical blow. ... died ... ?
She thought she had spoken the words, but instead the statement echoed around her head as she struggled to take in their meaning.
Mutely she shook her head denying what she knew must be true.

“I have a letter with me that he wrote before he died. His last will and instructions to you.”

Her hand shook as she reached for the letter he finally handed over to her.
Her husband had been a man of words, of letters. Her eyes brimmed at the idea of his dying moments being taken by writing to her, to make arrangements for her.

“I met Robert the Bruce on my way here and he read it and approve of it.”

She blinked, not comprehending why Robert the Bruce would have an interest in her husband’s dying words, but did not question.
Opening the paper she read it’s contents, tears falling unchecked at the loving words and then a silent gasp at his instructions.

“If you ever need assistance i will be honored to help you in any way i can.”

She eyed the man opposite her in confusion.

”I have brought Tavish with me and have laid him to rest at the river, just as he wanted.”

She struggled to make sense of all she had been told, what she had read.

”He is home, then?”

At his nod, she smiled wistfully.
At least her husband body was not left for looters, or carrion to make use of.
The river had been special to him, to them both ...
But ... that was all gone now and she was to be bound by his instructions to her and approved by Robert the Bruce.

”You ... cannot know the content of my husband’s instructions to me..?”

She ventured uncertainly.

”You ... offer me ... assistance? .... yet ... “

She shook her head and handed the letter across to him.

”Your sense of honour serves you well.
Where a King may read, a best friend respects a man’s privacy ... “

She watched him read, all the while assessing him anew.
He was a good man, that much she knew, but he was not "her Tavish".
Still he made no comment.
Perhaps the man’s sense of duty was such that being bound to her made little impact on his sensibilities.
Blushing she ventured the comment;

”I ... can only trust that my husband knew what would be for the best ... yet ... “

She struggled to speak as grief and panic overwhelmed her.

”Yet ... I would beg that we be not married with too much haste ... “

Turning away from him, she struggled for composure.
Fate had dealt her a cruel blow.
Not only had she discovered that her husband had been killed, but at the same time she was instructed to marry with the man who carried that news to her.
If respect for her husband did not urge her to obey, then the approval of Robert the Bruce, gave her no option but to agree.

She had begged for time, but from what little she knew of the situation, she doubted that there would be much delay. A widow now, she would be vulnerable, as would the lands, the property that her husband had owned.

She just hoped that this man, Alan of Strode would not be offended by her request and that he would be a patient husband ...

Alan of Strode imagined himself to be a man that wasn't easily surprised, but Honor's words of marriage shocked him to the core. Whatever Tavish had written in that letter Alan had thought that marrying off his widow would be the last thing on the dying mans mind. Alan curse the lie he gave his friend just to ease his final moments in life.

His surprise by Honor's words was only visible for a second before he composed himself again. He had promised Tavish and he was known to keep his promises as well as his word. Marriage had never been part of his plans as he had nothing to offer a woman. He had no title and no funds to speak of. Bruce had made him a knight and now Alan understood why. Now it all made sense.

"That is up to Bruce." He reply to Honors comment of not marrying in haste. Alan feel no rush to marry anyone but he had a feeling that Bruce would show up rather soon to see that Honor was sealed in marriage once again. Byelough was to important to the warrior king.

"I give you my word that i will protect you and not harm you in any way." He would die before he break his word to her. She was to young to have lost her husband and soon the wolves would be banging on her front door. Alan was determined to not let them in.

"I am a man of few words but when i speak i am bound by them." He meet her gaze with his own to let her know his sincerity.

"That is up to Bruce."

Silently Honor nodded at his words.

” ... of course ... “

Her mind was a tumult of emotions. Her beloved husband was lost and already at his instructions she had to contemplate union with another. A man of whom Tavish had a high opinion no doubt, but ... to consider him as a husband ...

Turning to face her visitor once more, she found herself feeling more self-conscious, finding it difficult to look him in the eye, lest she cause offense.

"I give you my word that i will protect you and not harm you in any way."

She lifted her head at his words and held his gaze, finding compassion and a sadness that matched her own sense of loss written there.
Silently she nodded, accepting his protection and assurances.

"I am a man of few words but when i speak i am bound by them."

Again she blinked to hold back tears.
Tavish had been a man of words, both spoken and written. He had wooed her with tales and stories and compliments made all the more charming to her by his Scottish brogue. This man before her was so different.
She could not begin to contemplate sharing her life, her bed with him from now on...
But she could not think of that yet ...

”You say my husband lies by the river?

She queried.

”I want to see him ... to see where ... “

She halted knowing he understood her request.
She would mourn him in her own way, but honour him by obeying his dying instructions to her, no matter what her own fears might be.
With an effort she composed herself and addressed the man before her.

”Please forgive me ... my hospitality has been sadly lacking ...
I will have quarters prepared for you and ... “

She reflected and forced herself to continue.

”You will wish to see the accounts, the revenues ... speak with the Stewards ... “

She was uncertain just how swiftly he would take over her husband’s affairs.

” ... everything ... of course ... is at your disposal ... “

She murmured, knowing that she herself was included in that bequest ...

” ... Everything ... of course ... is at your disposal ... “

Alan wished that he could ease her mind but he did not know how. He did not have any experience in dealing with mourning women. For the first time in his life he had no idea of what to do. Honor was a lovely young woman and she was to be his wife. She was so beautiful and seemed so fragile. He swallow deeply as he compare her to him. He was big, almost 6'2" feet tall with a body built for war. He was not skilled in taking care of women. If he ever touched her, he would be afraid to crush her under his big hands.

"I will follow you to the burial ground." He decide. She was his charge now and he did not dare to let her ride out by herself. Scotland was a land in war and there was outlaws as well that took every opportunity to exploit from the war.

He stand up with a brief grimace on his face from he pain in his shoulder. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the throbbing ache.

"I will have the stable boy to ready some horses." He turn away so she won't see the pain in his eyes. That would be to humiliating.

"Meet me at the front gate when you are ready." Alan quickly leave the room and as soon as he are outside he close his eyes and take a deep breath to control the pain.

At the stables he order a young stable boy to bring him two horses. The young lad quickly do as he say. Once he have the horses he lead them to the front gate to wait for Honor.

"I will follow you to the burial ground."

She smiled sadly. As a widow she would be under his protection, though she had assumed that he would insist on accompanying her, his tact at stating that he would follow and therefore allow her some degree of privacy to make her farewells was touching.

"I will have the stable boy to ready some horses.
Meet me at the front gate when you are ready."

Honor had not expected to visit the grave so soon, but was given no chance to respond before he abruptly left the room. Stood alone now in the place that had become home, she looked down at her wedding band. Fighting for control, she reached once again for the letter and read those words, although already it was as if she knew them by heart.
Her husband had issued her with instructions, but he had entreated her to trust his judgement. He had even wished her a long and happy life. But right now, she could not see how that could be without him by her side!

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Steward. The sympathy in his eyes told her that Tavish’s fate was no secret and that the news would soon fly around the neighbourhood. Forced to practicality she gave orders for their guest and future Lord to be housed and given every comfort. She entrusted the preparation of food and any other needs that Alan may have to be taken care of upon their return and made haste to her chamber to change .

When a mere 25 minutes later, she met Alan at the front gate, it was obvious by the pale complexion and the tear tracks that she sought to disguise that she had taken the opportunity to vent her grief in privacy. Attired for riding in a dark green ensemble she gave little greeting to the man beside her, but allowed him to help her mount.

”I had not thought to visit his resting place so soon ... “

She murmured to the man on horseback beside her.

” ... but ... I see ‘tis for the best ... “

Her last chance of privacy before the world invaded and drew her onwards in its wake.

”I have arranged for your rooms to be prepared ... “

She told him, in an effort to distract herself from the sight that was to come.

”You must take time to rest ... to have your wound tended to ... “

She commented softly, her gaze moving to his shoulder.

”Tell me ... what happened ... how ... how did my husband ...?”

She had not seen him at the last. Even now he was already buried.
She wished she had seen him one last time ... but knew she should be grateful that he had a grave and a burial of his choosing.


Their horses drew to a halt near the river. She waited for Alan to tell her something of Tavish’s last battle and scanned the bank to seek out the grave.

Alan point out the primitive and big stone that mark Tavish grave to Honor. "We will see to it that he get a proper stone." He say softly.

He had smiled to let her know that he was grateful for her interest in his well being. His main concern was infection. The wound was not dangerous in itself. It was just plain bad luck that it was his right shoulder that was injured as he was right handed and swordplay was out of the question. At least for the time being.

He carefully ponder of how much she need to know of Tavish fate that last day of battle. She had asked him and she had a right to know. With a sigh he start to tell her.

"The English had massed to take Stirling. They had us outnumbered two to one. We met them in open battle. The fighting was going on for two days. They charged us three times the first day and two times the second." He pause for just a few seconds.

"We beat them back in the last charge. Broke their formation. It was then Tavish got wounded." He had already decided not to tell her of how an English sword had severed Tavish left leg. He did not think that information would do Honor any good.

"Tavish died of blood loss. Before he did, he wrote that letter for you." Alan keep his eyes on Honor. "His last thoughts were of you. That you were safe and well." He look down.

"He asked me to read the letter to see if i agreed with his words. To my shame i agreed to it. Even told him that i should see to it that you followed his commands." He look down. "I lied to him. I couldn't agree to the letter because i can not read." He look up to see her reaction to his words.

This was the first time he told anyone his secret shame not even Tavish knew of.

Honor looked across in the direction Alan indicated. She took a steadying breath as she saw the expanse of freshly dug earth marked by a crude stone.

“We will see to it that he get a proper stone.”

She nodded feeling grateful for his consideration. This is what her husband had wanted and there were worse things than being laid to rest by a best friend and comrade in arms.

” ... stone ... and a priest ... “

She affirmed. Tavish had obviously not specified that he wanted a ceremony, but she would feel better if his soul were sent on its way with the assistance of prayer.
She slid from her horse as he spoke telling her of Tavish’s last days. Even as he narrated the battles, she stepped closer to the graveside.

“Tavish died of blood loss. Before he did, he wrote that letter for you.
His last thoughts were of you. That you were safe and well.”

Her eyes were brimmed with tears. She nodded.

”He was a good husband ... the best ... “

Even though she wanted to, she could not tell the man on horseback how much she had loved Tavish. The words would serve no purpose now. Her husband’s last actions had told the world how much he cared for her. No matter how he had provided for her after his death, nothing could fill the loss, the void he left.

“He asked me to read the letter to see if i agreed with his words. To my shame i agreed to it.
Even told him that i should see to it that you followed his commands.
I lied to him.”

Alan’s words cut through her thoughts. She looked up to see his averted gaze wondering what he meant.

” I couldn’t agree to the letter because i can not read.”

The admission shocked her. Not the fact that in contrast to her husband who thrived on the written word, this man had no knowledge of such things, but more because he had in fact not agreed to the proposed marriage!

”Then ... we are not to ... ?”

She hesitated uncertain how to continue. It seemed strange to be stood at her husband's grave and speaking of her proposed marriage and yet it was her husband that had insisted that he bring his wife and comrade together.

”You did not know what the contents of the letter were ...?”

The statement came out as a question.

”Then ... you did not in truth agree to ... marry ?”

Her mind raced over the events that had led to their meeting.

”Yet ... Robert the Bruce approves ... then ... “

Considering the possibility that they may not marry, part of her was filled with relief and yet partly she was still more fearful of who would in fact propose marriage and that the purpose of their intent would not be to want to spend their life with her.

” .... this is all about land and title now ...?”

She questioned finally.

”Then ... you did not in truth agree to ... marry ?” He can hear the surprise in her voice. ”Yet ... Robert the Bruce approves ... then ... “

Alan was still feeling angry at Bruce for forcing the letter from his hand but he nod at Honor's words. ” .... this is all about land and title now ...?” Her queston hang in the air for a moment.

"I gave my word to Tavish, so i agreed to marriage but i did not know what i agreed to. That i didn't know is not important now though. The only thing i have to give is my word and i do not take lightly on promises." Especially not to Tavish who's family accepted him as one of them when he and Tavish was children, and Uncle Angus sent him to Tavish father to make a man out of him.

"Even if i was an oath breaker we would not have a choice now. Bruce have decided that we marry, and you are right. It is about land for Bruce. Or rather it is about protecting the land." Alan shake his head sadly.

"What you or i want is of no concern in this matter. I know Bruce. He won't be long before coming to visit to see that his wishes have been carried out."

Alan could not remember himself having spoken so much in ages so he just nod toward the grave.

"Go to Tavish. Know that i will not willingly hurt you in any way if i can avoid it." He smile slightly to her.

"I gave my word to Tavish, so i agreed to marriage but i did not know what i agreed to. That i didn't know is not important now though. The only thing i have to give is my word and i do not take lightly on promises.
Even if i was an oath breaker we would not have a choice now. Bruce have decided that we marry, and you are right. It is about land for Bruce. Or rather it is about protecting the land."

Honor watched as he answered her. It was about land for Bruce and about promise keeping for him.

"What you or i want is of no concern in this matter. I know Bruce. He won't be long before coming to visit to see that his wishes have been carried out."

She knew he could not actually want to marry her, but all the same it was ... sad.
Compared to the eager courting she had enjoyed with Tavish, his steadfast determination to take an English bride, despite the objection from her father and many of his own kinsmen. And yet he had prevailed and finally, despite the bloody wars won the respect of her family.

"Go to Tavish. Know that i will not willingly hurt you in any way if i can avoid it."

Again the reassurance that he would never hurt her, the implicit offer of his protection through the marriage that was none of his doing. Her face softened into a smile. All she knew of the stranger before her was that he was a good man and that he was one whom Tavish had entrusted her to.

As he prompted, she turned and moved towards the bare earth. Without a glance back towards the man still on horseback behind her, she eased down towards the newly turned earth and seated herself on the grass nearby. For long moments she stared at the soil trying to make the connection between the lively, good humoured man who had left her and the body which she knew lay below. Tentatively she extended a hand and let her fingers run slowly through the loose ground, softly she murmuring her prayers, her endearments to the husband lost. Her hand moving to the makeshift headstone now, her fingers ran over the roughly hewn edges; the work lacked skill, but could not be paralleled in the sentiment with which it was made.

Though not quite 21, Honor had grown up quickly in her short marriage. She did not question Tavish’s insistence that she marry. A widow with such lands was vulnerable and one of English birth still more so. Yet she could not help but regret; regret times they had not shared, the battles that split their kinsfolk and the children she would never give him ... Tears brimmed over as she recalled the husband he had been. Though love was not a sentiment that was expected in marriage, having shared that depth of devotion with Tavish it seemed so wrong to enter into an empty alliance now, no matter how good the reasons.

And despite being aware of Alan’s close presence as he remained at a discrete distance behind her, Honor had never felt so alone as she finally allowed herself to weep for the loss of her beloved husband.

Three men on horseback was watching Alan of Strode and Lady Honor Ellerby from a distance.

"What do you think brother?" William McGregor ask his older brother as his eyes linger on the lonely woman that was sitting on the ground.

Lord Hugh McGregor look back at Will and frown. "Only one escort." He turn his attention to the man he assume is the lady's protection. He narrow his eyes as he search his memory for a man that fit the appearance. He are sure he have seen the man before. Muscular built with broad shoulders and slender waist. He was not a stranger to battle, Hugh think to himself. The man had dark brown hair and a face that wasn't exactly handsome. Still Hugh knew women would find him attractive. Alan Strode, the name hit him as a hammer. Tavish Ellerby's oldest and best friend.

"Damn it!" Hugh's outburst almost shock Will and their friend Kieran Cullen, as Hugh was known for his calm demeanor. It was Will that was the hothead of the two brothers. A fact that had always been nuisance to Hugh and when he was alive, their father.

"I was hoping i would be the one tellling Lady Honor of her husbands fate." Hugh mumble a little calmer.

Totally unaware of the attention he and his charge drew, Alan was waiting for Honor to give her farewells and pay her respects to Tavish. The jealousy he suddenly was feeling had him gritting his teeth. He look away from Honor in shame. It was not his right to be jealous. Not of Tavish anyway. The man was dead and buried. He was gone and would never come back. He had left Honor for Alan to take care of and Alan knew he would do his best. Still he envied the man for the love he got from Honor. A love any man would die for to receive.

Honor was unaware of the three men who watched her. She even forgot of Alan awaiting her as she allowed herself time to focus on her husband, to give vent to her grief until finally she rose, brushing her skirts and dashing a hand across her cheek to smudge away the tear tracks that held there. Alan advanced as she picked her way towards him.

”Thank you ... “

She told him simply. Her eyes held his and she extended a hand to his arm, laying it there.

”You brought him home ... “

Dead or alive, his friend had not left Tavish and rough though it was and though she would add her own headstone, she would also keep the memorial that Alan himself had fashioned for his friend.

Honor shivered, realising that she had become chilled kneeling on the damp ground. Accepting Alan’s assistance, she remounted and was content to agree with his insistence that they return as promptly as possible.

”I have arranged for quarters to be prepared for you ... “

She informed him. She slept in the bedroom she had shared with Tavish, but there was a wing that her husband rarely used that had an impressive double chamber. She could not bring herself to question what their arrangements would be once they were wed, but for now, she would take comfort in sleeping in their marital bed and ensuring that Alan had the rooms and command of the household that befitted his status as her future husband.

” ... when we return, I’ll have that wound tended to ... a doctor can be called or ... “

She hesitated.

”I know much of remedies, healing ... if you prefer I could tend to your injury ... or at least oversee your recovery to ensure no infection takes hold ... “

She told him, her soft voice full of genuine concern for his welfare.

”I imagine news of my widowed state will travel quickly.
I trust you will make our ... bethrothal ... known also?

It would be useless to keep it private, after all, the whole point of her marrying so quickly was to ensure that her security and welfare and that of her lands and monies.

She felt chilled and exhausted by the time they finally drew into the courtyard and moved to dismount from their horses.