The High Road (On Hold)

Chapter Six

          The sun rose at Inverness along with a premonition of great importance. Stéaphan felt this and could not sleep well the night before the king's arrival. Much of his reputation as a reliable officer rested upon how well his troops acted during this important royal visit.

"Quit your worryin', you galut", said Meriadoc the morning the king was supposed to arrive. "Ye've trained the boys to look bonny in their flashy new armor and act tough all day. Aye, looks like you modeled them after yerself", he joked.

"Words of encouragement I'd expect from the likes of you, you buffoon", retorted Stéaphan.

Exchanges of mild mockery were common between brothers-in-arms.

"Campbell!" yelled a voice from behind them as they stood in the castle gatehouse looking off into the streets. The soldiers spun about and stood at attention seeing it was Governor O'Connor addressing them.

"Aye, sir", said Stéaphan.

"Are your men ready? King Malcolm should be arriving soon. We musn't have any foul-ups, especially not from you."

"Never, my lord. And yes, I've placed the troops throughout the fortress, keeping special watch over crucial places", he said, ready to bat down any of his commander's questions.

"Places like what?" asked O'Connor.

"The merchants' quarter for one, sir. Several men are assigned to patrol the both sets of walls as well. The majority of my men are simply patrolling the streets on regulated routes, my lord."

"Good work. So long as all the lads do their jobs, this visit will go well", said the Governor as he took his leave.

"Caravan approaching!" cried one of the watchmen atop the gatehouse. "Open the gates, quick!"

Several men in the gatehouse pulled the outer door open with massive chains ran by a system of pulleys that operated the gate. The wooden carriage of the Scottish king passed through. The peasants knew of his arrival and flooded the streets. Little boys and girls were held up on their fathers' shoulders to see over the crowds of people. The proud Scottish flag, a white Saint Andrew's cross on a field of blue, flew atop the carriage. As soon as the carriage entered the outer wall of the castle, it halted suddenly. The door swung open and Malcolm, King of Scots, stepped out from his carriage. The king was a striking man with short brown hair and a mild beard that covered much of his lower face. He had a kindly countenance and exuded a warm aura. He was often called 'the king of the people' because he always got to know those in his court the best he could. Unlike most other nobility, King Malcolm did not have the stereotypical superior outward appearance. As often as he could, he would walk on foot or horseback rather than in a carriage. His current intention was to walk his way to the great hall, embracing the applause of his subjects.

Stéaphan and Meriadoc stood in the castle courtyard awaiting the king with the other officers and senior enlisted. A bead of sweat rolled down Stéaphan's neck. The cheers of the crowds only heightened his nervousness. He looked at Governor O'Connor and saw a stern man with no apparent anxiety. How does he manage it all, Stéaphan asked himself in his mind. His name is held higher than the rest of us and he stands ready to face the king.

Soon enough, the king and his bodyguard strode through the gatehouse and approached the military Governor.

"Governor O'Connor! How goes it, good master? I trust you keep a good castle, eh?" said the king, only too comfortable among his subjects.

"Of course, sire. Right this way", replied the Governor, without any hesitation or pause.

The two men departed the courtyard into the great hall. The officers and senior enlisted looked bewildered at one another, not knowing whether or not they were dismissed from their formation.

"Was that it!" called Meriadoc. "I was called up from the tavern for this? Ach, let me know when I'm needed. Ye'll know where to look for me."

Meriadoc fell out of formation and swaggered off into the lower fortress often referred to as the Boak District due to the abundance of bars in the area. Not a moment later, the other troops in formation followed suit, Stéaphan included.

The rest of the day was spent ensuring Stéaphan's men did as ordered. Each of his soldiers had predetermined routes throughout the fortress. Every so often he would find two or three of his men away from their posts entering a tavern or brothel, which could be quickly remedied by dragging his troops out, often cursing the whole way.

Now that the king had arrived, Stéaphan slept well. It was a busy day of preparation, but now all that could be done was keep his men in line and all would be well. Sleep was a welcome companion that night and fully embraced the weary officer.

The next day Stéaphan rose as the sun did, but laid eyes on a dark firepit with no logs to fuel the fire. Greeting the morning with an exhausted groan, he quickly dressed himself in woolen breeches and a long-sleeved, green tunic. He hoisted his timbering axe on his shoulder and made his way to the barracks to wake Meriadoc.

"Up and up, you galut. Help me carry some wood to my quarters, eh?", said Stéaphan, though it was no request.

"Ach, Stéaphan, why must ye wake me so? Ah was havin' the loveliest dream about yer sister" said Meri, a smile on his face.

"You know I haven't a sister, you fool. Now up and come along."

The captain and his companion made their way to the great forest just outside the gates of Inverness. They skirted the edge of a glen near the center of the forest; this was where the best wood for burning was to be had. The place of their work was not much more than a stone's throw from the main road that led into the castle.

The crisp morning air chilled the Scots as they wandered the wood. Stéaphan took note of a few older trees that would make fine firewood. He hoisted his axe up in his hands and took a hefty swing into a large Scots pine. Pockets of golden sap burst from the bark of the old pine and coated the blade of the axe in sticky sap. The bark splintered and flew from the trunk as he began rhythmically taking strokes with his blade. Every so often Stéaphan would collect a few sizeable hunks of wood for Meriadoc to pile up in the glen.

Not long into their endeavor, Stéaphan heard the braying of horses in the distance. It came from the road and appeared to be moving towards him and his friend. Moments later, a small carriage materialized on the far side of the road moving towards Inverness. There must be at least twenty men guarding that carriage, Stéaphan thought. Who on earth is moving this far north so heavily guarded. He was a good distance from the carriage and was secluded enough so that none of the guards took note of him or Meriadoc.

Just then, a figure appeared in the carriage window: a young woman. Stéaphan's eyes widened as he stared at the caravan and the striking woman it carried. As the carriage passed through the clearing, he was able to manage a better look at the figure inside. She was a beautiful young woman with long brown hair and deep brown eyes who took no notice of her onlooker. As he continued to stare, the heavy axe in his hand slipped from his grasp and struck him on the foot. Stéaphan howled in pain and crouched down, hiding behind a tree as to not be seen. Meriadoc turned, alarmed, and asked "What's the matter with ye?"

"Nothing", Stéaphan replied. "Just grab the timber and let's be back at the castle quickly.."

The two hurried off to the fortress, hauling their firewood with them. Stéaphan's mind was still on the lady he saw in the carriage. Surely she was headed to one of the eastern cities and not Inverness. What business would a beautiful coleen like that have in the unforgiving stone halls of of the castle?