Prologue

Prologue

Two Miles Northeast of Edinburgh, March 1371

Ihope ye've gained wisdom in your four years away, lad," Sir Ian Logan, second Baron Lestalric, said sternly to his younger son.

Sir Ian stood before the huge fireplace in Lestalric Castle's great hall, his silk-shod feet planted well apart, his thick arms folded across his chest. A rich crimson velvet doublet, silken hose, and gold jewelry proclaimed his wealth, just as the frown on his face revealed his doubt that his hope had been fulfilled.

Standing on the nearby dais, his heir, William, was a fair copy of his sire with the same proud posture and substantial, richly attired body. He, too, scowled at the third party in the chamber as he said, "We hope ye've found at least enough wisdom to tell us the damnable secret ye've kept to yourself since ye left here, Robbie."

"Whether ye've the wisdom or no, ye'll tell us, and straightaway," the baron snapped. "I command ye."

The baron's younger son, Sir Robert, halfway into his eighteenth year, was six feet tall and extremely fit, for he had just returned home after earning his spurs on the field of battle. His temper stirred at being confronted so, but equal dismay aided him in suppressing it. He had arrived at Lestalric two hours before, hoping to succeed at last in marrying the love of his life and knowing he needed his father's aid to do so. But he could not obey Sir Ian's command.

All three men were dark-haired, hazel-eyed, and bore a strong family likeness, although Rob's height was greater, his shoulders broader, and his hips slimmer than those of the other two. Only a few feet of the rush-strewn floor divided the three, but four years and dozens of similar confrontations before stood between them as well.

Rob, in travel-stained breeks and muddy boots, never having learned to communicate well with the other two, felt as if they were miles apart. Absently, he rubbed the plain gold ring on his left little finger as he tried to think what to say.

"Well?" Sir Ian demanded. "I ha' asked ye a plain question. Any loyal man o' this family would answer it straightaway."

Again his temper stirred, but Rob said with forced calm, "You know I am loyal, my lord, so you must like-wise know by my silence that I cannot answer you."

"I told you so, Father," Will said. "He was nobbut thirteen when he went away, and the taunts he hurled at me then meant nowt. Why would our grandfather ha' revealed aught to him that he did not tell you or me? Grand-father said himself that he'd told Rob nowt of any import."

"Be silent, Will," Sir Ian ordered without looking away from Rob. "Did ye no hear me say earlier, lad, that the Steward will soon be crowned King o' Scots?"

"I heard you," Rob said. "I don't know what that has to do with me, although I expect we'll all be attending his coronation at Scone Abbey."

"And ye ha' nowt to say that could add to the splendor o' that occasion?"

"No, sir. What could I possibly know about the King's crowning?"

"Will ye tell me your grandfather passed no useful information to ye?"

"He passed a great deal of useful information to me," Rob acknowledged. "However, he talked mostly of the old days here at Lestalric and of hiding in caves and playing tricks on English invaders, raiding their supplies and such. Sakes, he must have told you all those same tales, and Will, too."

Rob looked at his older brother, who was still glowering, and said, "I do apologize for my taunts that day, Will. But you'd made me angry, and well do you know it. In any event, Grandfather told you those same tales, did he not?"

"Aye, but ye ken fine we're no talking o' pranks to annoy the damned English. They ha' kept out o' Scotland now for nigh forty years, since those days he spoke of, except for a brief foray twenty years back when our lot nearly captured their third King Edward. What o' family secrets, though? What d'ye ken o' them?"

Rob shook his head. "I'd expect family secrets, if we had any, to have gone to our father as heir to the title, and thence to you. Surely, no one would confide such to me. Recall, too, that our grandfather died two months after he sent me to Dunclathy."

"So he said nowt to you o' his father and uncle wha' were friends wi' the Bruce," the baron said. "Nor o' things the two o' them might ha' done for the man?"

Rob frowned. "I know that my great-grandfather, Sir Robert Logan, whose name I bear, and his brother Sir Walter, whose name our grandfather bore, were with the Bruce at Bannockburn. I know, too, that they both went with the good Sir James Douglas and Sir William Sinclair after the Bruce died, to carry his heart to the Holy Land as he had asked them to do."

"Aye, sure, for that be why our crest bears a heart proper on it like that o' the Douglas," Sir Ian said. "But what else d'ye ken o' them?"

"I know that on the way, our two kinsmen were killed in Spain with Sir James and Sinclair, and that Sir William Keith and other survivors brought their bodies and the Bruce's heart home again. What I do not know is how any of that can have aught to do with what you have asked of me."

Sir Ian's eyes narrowed, and he stared intently into Rob's eyes, but Rob had been withstanding even sterner looks for four years. He met it easily.

"So ye ken nowt," Sir Ian said with a heavy sigh. " 'Tis a pity, because I'd hoped to advance ye. I'm told ye've been looking to wed the lady Ellen Douglas. Sakes, I'm told ye dared to talk wi' her about it a year ago, when ye spent a day wi' the Douglas at Tantallon but didna visit your own father nobbut a few miles away."

Rob said tightly, "You know I had no choice in that. I rode in Sir Edward Robison's fighting tail when he went to confer with the Douglas about English Border raiders who were becoming increasingly daring."

"Aye, well, 'tis still a great pity that ye ha' nowt o' import to tell us now."

William looked smug.

Rob remained silent, fighting to retain control of his unpredictable temper. He wondered if they could hear his heart thumping with the effort.

"Well?" his father snapped. "D'ye want the lass or no?"

"You must know I do," Rob said. "What's more—"

William interjected lightly, "Ellen's a snug handful, to be sure."

"Hold your tongue," Rob snapped. "Recall that you speak of a lady and that you are no longer head and shoulders taller or four stone heavier than I am."

"I can still best a stripling like you."

Rob did not spare him another glance, thinking that whatever else Will had learned during his years of training with the Earl of Douglas, he had not learned chivalry. As far as he could tell, his brother had not changed a jot since they were fifteen and thirteen, when Will had lorded it over him at every turn, even calling him a bairn when he'd cried after their mother's death. How Rob had hated him then!

On the other hand, Rob thought the Order had taught him all he needed to know in life except one important thing: how to keep his temper in check. Sir Edward Ro-bison, the commander he had served at Dunclathy, would have had something scathing to say about his impulsive reaction four years ago to Will's teasing, but Sir Edward did not know about that and if Rob had his way, he never would. Nor would Hugo or Michael. His two best friends were ever ready with advice and censure if a man de-served either.

As he struggled to restore calm to his mind, Sir Ian said, "I'm thinking ye can put that lass straight out o' your head now … "

William's expression grew smugger, warning Rob of what was to come.

"… because without more to offer her ladyship than your fine new spurs, I'm thinking she'll do gey better to marry our Will."

"She doesn't want him," Rob blurted before he could stop himself.

William laughed. "She's got nowt to say about it. I'm heir to Lestalric, not you, and she's Lady Ellen Douglas, daughter of the most powerful man in Scotland."

Rob opened his mouth and clamped it shut again.

"Will's right," the baron said. "Moreover, if ye've nowt else to offer, ye're nobbut a damnable disappointment to me and no worth exerting m'self for."

Longing to reply in kind, Rob kept his teeth tightly together.

Still grinning, Will said, "You cannot have met the lass above three times in your life. If you think she'd want a scarce-tried knight when she can have all that Lestalric offers instead, you're the same witless fool you were at thirteen, Robbie. Even if she did want you, her father would demand more for her and she would obey him. But it won't come to that. Ellen has already accepted me."

Rob looked at his father, but Sir Ian just shrugged.

"Tell me, my lord," Rob said stiffly. "Had I been able to answer your question about this mysterious secret you think my grandfather told me, what would you have done? If Will has already offered and been accepted by Lady Ellen, then … "

"Faugh," his father said. "Had ye done aught to de-serve the lass, I'd ha' spoken to Douglas about ye taking her instead. A man does what is politic, lad. Will kens that. If ye dinna ken as much after all your fine training, ye dinna ken nowt."

"So if I had known such a secret and shared it, you would have passed it on to Douglas to gain his daughter for me instead of Will. Is that it? Or would you have let Will tell him, to add to his own stature and assure his match with Lady Ellen?"

Arms akimbo now, and chest puffed, Sir Ian jutted his chin and said, "Aye, and what if I had? In troth, I'd ha' used it to further the Logans' interest as best it could, and wi' the right information, I'd ha' seen ye both wed to Douglas lasses. 'Tis nobbut plain fact that any secret your grandsire held, the Douglas should ken. 'Tis his right as the most powerful descendant o' the good Sir James."

"Then I'm sorry I cannot oblige him," Rob said with a stiff nod, turning away.

"And where d'ye think ye be going?" Sir Ian demanded.

Turning back, Rob snapped, "I'm bidding you adieu, my lord. I'll not be back."

"Aye, well, dinna come back then," Sir Ian retorted. "And dinna expect nowt from me in the future, either!"

Furious, but still struggling to contain it, Rob said, "I don't expect anything. As I'm such a disappointment, you should be glad to see the last of me!"

"Aye, well, I am, then!" shouted Sir Ian.

As he rode away from Lestalric, Rob did not look back, but thoughts of the angry exchange and a strong sense of betrayal continued to plague him, and never more so than when it occurred to him that although the first secret his grandfather had confided to him had naught to do with Lestalric, the second one did.

The key to it lay within the castle itself, and now that he had vowed never to return, he might never learn what that secret was.

Doubtless, though, it was just some family treasure or other. If so, even if he did find it, his father or Will would claim it. Nevertheless, for all his effort to restrain his wretched temper, it had been his undoing again. So, whatever course he took next, it should be one to teach him humility.

On that thought, he knew just where he would go, for although his father and brother had rarely made him feel at home, one family in Scotland always did.