Isle of Mull 03 - To Love a Warrior Read Online Free PDF Page A

Clan MacDonald,” echoed the men, raising their cups in Angus Og’s honor.
    Lowering his cup to the table, the king scanned the room, again looking every man in the eye. The Bruce’s steel gaze locked with Garik’s, and he felt the urgency of the moment like a jolt of power course through him. “When the MacDougalls fled, we were too broken to celebrate our own salvation. It was a turning point in our quest for independence. I had to decide. Had all been for naught? Had those men, my followers, my family suffered in vain? For a time, I saw no hope.”
    Duncan jumped to his feet. “But there is always hope,” he cried. “I’ve been hungry for English blood since witnessing the massacre at Berwick. We must never surrender.”
    James stood then, his gaze fixed on Duncan. “I was at Berwick,” he said. “My father, William Douglas, was the city’s governor. For two days, my little brothers and sister and I huddled together in a high tower, listening to the endless screams of the dying. As my father’s heir, he secreted me away from the keep on the third day. I was taken to France where I remained hidden in a monastery. I was not yet ten at the time.”
    “Your father was a great man,” Duncan said. “If memory serves, he was one of the first of Scotland’s nobles to support William Wallace.”
    “Aye, that he was,” James said.
    “Your mention of William Wallace in a way brings us to why we are here,” the Bruce said. “Angus Og was good enough to hide me away while we recouped men and considered how best to proceed. Both he and James served as my council during that time. After months of deliberation, we were able to draw one indisputable conclusion—we cannot win this war.”
    An uproar erupted as the men lunged to their feet, urging their king not to surrender his quest, but the Bruce silenced their protest with a raised hand. “I speak the truth. We cannot win by conventional means.” Then he nodded towards James who stood and took the Bruce’s place at the head of the table.
    “We are smaller and have fewer resources. The odds are not in our favor. If we bring this fight to the battlefield, the open plain, we will lose,” James said flatly. But then he traded his grim expression for a smile as he continued. “Now that we’ve looked honestly at our weaknesses, let it be understood, we will win this war.”
    James walked around the table as he spoke. “Wallace brought England to its knees because he instilled fear into the heart of our enemy. He refused to play by the rules, and neither shall we. The slaughtering of our men at Methven was two years ago. We’ve since met Valence in battle, but with a very different outcome.”
    Garik leaned forward in his seat eager to hear the young lieutenant’s report.
    “Valence marched with a massive army whose sole purpose was to find our location and destroy us once and for all. We took position on Loudoun Hill, knowing that bogs lined that particular section of road. Then we waited, hidden among the trees. When they passed, we ambushed their march. The narrow passage restricted how many men Valence could deploy. His mighty army was nothing more than a trickling stream.” A glint of triumph lit James’s eyes as he continued. “They panicked. Without a conventional battlefield, they dissolved into chaos. While we came together to form a Schiltron—a great circle. Marching in a tight cluster with long spears and our shields permanently presented, we resembled an armored animal with bristling spikes. Holding formation, we advanced and fought with such ferocity that they fled. Victory was ours.”
    Roars of triumph thundered throughout the hall. After a time, James held out his hands to silence the men. “We can celebrate when we’ve truly won. ‘Tis only the beginning. For now, the Bruce is going to lead our ever growing army onward and cut away at Edward’s forces using what we’ve come to view as our greatest weapon, our superior knowledge of