Epilogue

Dalrinnie Castle

February 1307

Tamsin added a delicate pen-stroke in red to the tall rubric initial and sat back, pleased. The parchment page, spread flat on the table and weighted with stones, was almost done. Liam would surely be surprised by the latest addition in the growing collection of the Rhymer's verses. For months, she had been carefully copying and preparing the pages to give Master Bisset as soon as they could travel to Selkirk.

Setting down the quill, she flexed her arms and rolled her neck a bit. She had been hunched over parchments all afternoon, and her shoulders and neck were stiff. Near her, Oonagh looked up from a nap, ruffed low, and settled again by the hearth fire, a content hound guarding her mistress on a cold winter afternoon.

The light was fading. She would put away her writing things soon, for she was sure Liam would return today; she woke that morning with a strong sense that he would be heading home. Glancing toward the arched windows where the tops of pine trees showed dark through thick leaded glass, she prayed he would be back by nightfall.

She had counted eighteen days since he had ridden west to bring another roster of support to Robert Bruce, along with news gleaned from compatriots in Ettrick Forest and elsewhere. She longed to see him, feel his arms around her, know his strength and warmth beside her at night. The bed was cold without him. And she had news to share now, for she had been counting the days for another reason.

Setting to work again, she was determined to finish the page. But Oonagh made a gruff sound, jumping to her feet. Startled, Tamsin made an awkward stroke in the last word, and set her pen down as a knock sounded on the door.

"My lady?" Liam stepped into the room, Roc loping in behind him. Tamsin flew to him, arms wide, and Liam wrapped her in the embrace she so loved and craved. He crooked a finger under her chin to kiss her tenderly. Feeling herself beginning to melt inside, she laughed, then stepped back and took his hand.

"Liam, my love—I am so relieved that you are home safe. Was your errand to good purpose? Is the king well?"

"Aye, and in good spirits, for his support grows strong. Scottish winters keep the English away, which gives us some respite. Bruce means to take advantage of the lull and travel south to reclaim Scottish territory and a castle or two."

"Will you go with him?" She felt a flutter of disappointment, knowing his reply.

He nodded. "Since Bruce sent men here to help guard the place last November, Dalrinnie has been even more firmly in my hands. He may go to the Isles for the winter, and if he does, I will stay here. But I am indebted to him and fully in this effort. You know that, love."

"I do." She pressed his hands in hers, his fingers still cold from the long ride. Brushing away snowflakes on the shoulders of his gray cloak, she stroked his ring-studded leather hauberk. "You will want to change out of these."

"I came up quickly, anxious to see you. Dearling, you look beautiful," he murmured. "Glowing."

"Just glad you are here. And it is warm by the fire. Did Gilchrist and Finley come with you? Are they downstairs in the hall? I so want them to meet Thomas Learmont and his wife Marion."

"I saw Thomas and his wife in the hall—a nice surprise—and told them we would be down soon to share supper with them. But Gilchrist and Finley went on to Holyoak to ask Gideon to come with them into the forest to work for the cause."

"He is still at Holyoak?" She went to a cupboard, took out a jug and a goblet. "Will you have wine?"

"I will, thank you." She poured, and he accepted it. "And you?"

"Not just now. I thought Gideon decided to leave the order?"

"He did. But our uncle is not strong, and Gideon wants to be nearby. Oh, and I hear Sir Malise will leave Holyoak soon to return to his own castle. They say he may not walk again. Agatha feels torn with guilt for tripping him up."

"She saved your life! And to think what he did to her earlier…and then put her in that cage." She shook her head.

"She may decide to leave Lincluden and give up that life altogether. Gideon has been talking with her about the decision they each have. They were always close, those two, and are a help to each other now."

"Hey, Roc," Tamsin said as the hound bumped against her for a rub and a pat. Oonagh surged to her feet to nudge Roc away from her mistress. Laughing, Tamsin and Liam gave them some affection and sent them to sit by the hearth.

"Oonagh seems very protective of you," Liam said.

"She is," Tamsin said, smiling a bit. "Here, I want to show you something." Taking his hand, she drew him toward the table. "I have been working on the pages for the next book of the Rhymer's work—his ballads and verses."

"Master Bisset will be pleased. You have done a good deal of work, I see, since I left. My lass, I am sorry I had to go away again. It is just necessary at times."

"You are back safe now, and that is all that matters. With winter here, I hope you will stay for a while. We have peace here now, and much to be thankful for. No matter what happens beyond Dalrinnie, we have what we wanted. Our home. Our haven."

"I will stay as long as I can." He drew her close and she sighed. "What did you want to show me?"

"Old Thomas has been reciting some of his father's verses for me. He knows ballads and a few prophecies, too, that were not in the notes Grandda gave me. I have been copying them to new parchments. Come look."

"Beautiful work. Very neat." He glanced over her shoulder. "Is that an error, Lady Tamsin?" He chuckled.

"I jumped up when you came in. I will scrape it away and redo it, like the changes Malise made to the document that had your name originally," she murmured. "Edward ordered you to marry me, and wanted you to take command of Dalrinnie—trusting he would have the book he wanted, of course. Malise has much to atone for now. I wonder if he recognizes that."

"He might someday. Edward is unhappy with him, I would guess. But the king is ill again, with less strength for revenge. He will let Dalrinnie go back to the Scots. The luck of Dalrinnie returned with you, love." He kissed her hand. "It was meant to be."

"Something else was meant to be. Read this page." She tapped it with a finger.

"Oh?" Looking puzzled, he glanced down and began to read aloud.

Three lasses, three ladies, three brides all

Born and flowering in Kincraig's hall

One shall loose an arrow in the heart of greenside

One shall heal a king and woe betide

And one shall be the harper's bride . . .

"By the saints," he whispered. "Harper's bride! What is this? One of the Rhymer's predictions?"

"Uncle Thomas remembered it. It was made before we were born, he says. He heard it as a lad but did not know what it meant. When he found it scribbled on the margin of a page in one of Thomas's own books, he brought it to me here."

"Before any of you were born," Liam breathed. "What of Henry?"

"Thomas thinks it was a longer verse. He will keep searching."

"We were meant to be." He slipped an arm around her.

"Thomas recited Granda's ballad about meeting the Queen of Faery—the ballad you heard when you were young. I want to add it to these new pages. He wants you to play it on the Rhymer's harp."

"I want to learn anything your great-uncle wants to teach me. ‘And one shall be the harper's bride,'" he repeated softly. "You are no longer the Scottish bride, hey."

"All that is past." She smiled. "I am thrilled to be just a harper's bride."

He brushed a hand over her hair. "We have much to look forward to, Tamsin. Once Bruce accomplishes all that he wants for Scotland, our future will be bright."

She felt tears starting in her eyes. "Our future is already bright." She took his hand, cupped it low over her belly.

He paused, breathed out low and long. "Is it so?"

She nodded. "High summer, I think."

"My love." He pulled her close again. "With all my heart, I promise to be here with you." As he kissed her, she knew he had her whole heart, always.

"Liam—promise what you can, aye. But we can never truly know the future."

"Even you say that?" He cocked a brow.

"Even I. Whatever happens, we have all we need here and now. Our home, our safety. Each other, and what will come of that joy. It is all I need."

"All the truth anyone could ask for." He kissed her again. "But I must change, for they are waiting supper on us. Then I am for bed, my lady, with you."

"Ah." She laughed softly. "Tomorrow I want to send a messenger to Kincraig. I need to see my sisters. And it is time you met them."

"Aye so." Whistling for the hounds, he escorted his wife to the door.