Guardian Angel [Book 2]
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Guardian-Angel-2-Ian-Johnstone-ebook/dp/B01CKJBRC8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1457272226&sr=1-1&keywords=ian+johnstone
CHAPTER ONE
At the top of a long, low hill the Scottish army was in
position. Above them flew the flag of
Scotland and the Royal Standard. Many
wore the King’s tartan, and many more were in the tartans of the clans,
following their own clan leaders in support of the King. The King himself was at the front in the
centre, his sword in his hand but his arm hanging at his side, not yet ready
for battle. The army moved around him,
jostling each other, the horses snorting and stamping their hooves as if they
knew what was about to happen, and the mounted lords, knights and other
noblemen struggling to control the horses at the same time as issuing orders to
their foot soldiers to form up for the attack.
A thousand yards away at the bottom of the hill were the
English. King Henry VIII’s army was
impressive, all wearing the King’s colours.
There were thousands of foot soldiers, some with swords or longbows,
some with bills – five-foot lengths of stout timber with a sharp, broad blade
at the end. Like the Scottish, the
English knights and noblemen were mounted, and the English flag blew in the
wind over the centre of the army. Many
knights were now also raising their own colours and, as the sun reflected on
their shining armour, the sight of them was both spectacular and fearsome.
A shout went up from the English side, growing in volume as
all the soldiers took it up. It meant
nothing. It was a war cry, to put fear
into the Scottish army that has just started to move towards them with cries
and shouts of their own.
Almost as soon as the shouting started, the sound was
drowned by the roar of the English cannon, but there was no mistaking the
Scottish King’s order when he raised his sword above his head and shouted, “For
the love of Scotland, charge!”
The army on top of the hill started down as one. The ground was soft underfoot, and men and
horses were unable to sustain the speed of their charge. The English remained in their positions, the
bill carriers moving to the front with their weapons ready to meet the oncoming
Scots. The Scottish foot soldiers came
down the hill ahead of the mounted troops, the horses struggling to make
progress as their hooves sank into the soft surface of the marsh-like ground.
The English cannon had sent many of the Scottish foot soldiers
to their death before they reached the bottom of the hill. The ground behind the advancing army was
littered with dead and wounded, and before their comrades could enter the
battle many more fell to the arrow. As
swords clashed, the sound of bloodcurdling shouts and screams from dying
soldiers on both sides was like something from the depths of hell.
There were shouts from wounded trampled underfoot by those
still in the melee of battle, and many died under the hooves of the horses that
showed no sympathy to either army. The
sound of cannon, not so frequent now, was almost drowned out by the screams and
by the battle cries of the brave Scottish clansmen.
* * *
* *
Fog descended over the battlefield before either side had
won or lost. There was a blinding flash
through the gloom, and Douglas opened his eyes cautiously.
The summer sun had moved across the morning sky, and now it
shone directly into his face through a gap in the heavy drapes. He lay still, trying to gather his thoughts,
and it was several minutes before he realised that he must have been
dreaming. As before, it had seemed very
realistic, and he thought back to the last time he had had dreams like
this. Was there a connection? Previously, his dreams were some sort of
visions, connected with his legacy, but when he found it the dreams had
stopped.
Why had they now returned?
Perhaps it was no more than his imagination playing tricks,
but could it be that he was once again seeing ghosts of the past?
He looked at his watch, and was about to get out of bed when
he felt movement next to him. He turned
and saw his young wife Morag looking at him sleepily. They had been married two years after he had
found the letters, and the estate was now in order.
“You are getting up early, Douglas.”
She smiled at him, and he leaned over and kissed her on the
forehead. “It is eight-thirty, and my mother will be here soon to go with you
to Edinburgh.”
Morag sat up straight, her eyes suddenly wide open. “Damn.
I had forgotten about your mother coming here.” She threw back the bed covers and jumped out
of bed, almost running round the bed in a flash of white lace that left Douglas
feeling dazzled, and she disappeared into the en suite. Douglas sighed and lay back in the bed. He would have to wait until she finished in
there before he could wash and shave. He
thought again about his dream and he was still in that position when Morag came
out of the adjoining walk-in wardrobe, dressed and ready for breakfast.
“Well, don’t just lie there, lazy. The day is young, and you should be up and
dressed. Don’t you realise that your
mother will be here soon to join us for breakfast?”
Douglas was considering his answer when Morag laughed and
left the room, closing the door behind her.
* * *
* *
Douglas came into the dining room where Morag was sitting at
the table with his mother.
“You’re late getting up, Douglas. You were never this late for breakfast when
you were living with me,” his mother scolded.
Douglas opened his mouth to reply, but she spoke first. “It is no good giving me excuses because I
have heard them all before. Morag was
down here long ago, and I would think more of you if you followed her example.”
Douglas heard Morag chuckle quietly. “I sense a conspiracy of sorts,” he muttered.
“What did you say, dear?” his mother asked, as the door
opened and Victoria came in pushing the breakfast trolley.
“Saved from embarrassment by Victoria with the food,” he
replied.
After the meal, when they were sipping coffee, Morag said,
“We will be gone most of the day, Douglas, but back in time for the evening
meal. Lady Lindsay phoned while you were
still getting ready. She seemed very
excited about something, and asked if you would meet her up by the
excavations. I told Fergus, and he will
have yours and his horses ready, as he has to go and bring back a stallion he
has sold.”
They were all standing up when Victoria returned to collect
the breakfast plates. Douglas said, “On
your return to the kitchen, Victoria, would you tell Norma to give Drummond my
riding jacket.”
“I will do that, my Lord.
Do you want me to tell Fergus that you are going out to the
stables? He is in the kitchen at the
moment talking to Ruth.”
“Yes, if you would.
Thank you.”
Douglas gave Morag a kiss on the cheek and his mother gave
him one. “Give Beth my love when you
talk to her.”
“I will do that, and I will ask her here to join us for the
evening meal, if she is not too busy.”
A short time later, Douglas and Fergus were riding over the
hills behind the house, heading for the excavations. The sun was out, but it was nearing the end
of summer and there was little warmth from it.
The site of the excavations now had a permanent fence all the way round
it to stop the horses falling in the holes during the night. There were also three huts there for a little
more comfort for those doing the digging and research. There was also a small generator to provide
power for security lights at night. At
the gate, Douglas dismounted and opened the gate to lead his horse in.
“I will see you later, sir, if you’ll not need me anymore.”
“No, Fergus, that’s fine.
You go about your business and I will see you back at the stables
later.”
“Good morning, Douglas.”
“Lady Lindsay, it is so nice to see you again. My mother is up from Kelso and will be here
on the estate for a few days. She sends
her love, and I will have Victoria set a place at the table for you tonight, if
you are not too busy.”
“I am never so busy that I cannot take the time to meet your
mother. I wanted to tell you that those
swords have been carbon dated to James the Fourth. Why they were buried here we have no idea,
but that is not why I called you here.
One of the bodies we found was a nobleman, and we know that he was a
Stuart. He had a broach on his chest,
but we have not been unable to identify the coat
of arms on it.”
“How do you know he was a Stuart then?”
“There was enough of the tartan remaining for it to be
identified.
“Also, the other bodies we found had their claymores with
them, but he did not. Even stranger was
that he was wearing the shoulder belt that should have held his claymore’s
scabbard, but that was also missing. We
found a dagger lodged between his ribs, and undoubtedly that was what killed
him, but the dagger too is most unusual.
It’s not a dirk or a sgian dubh that a clansman would carry. It has a silver hilt with a design on it that
I have never seen before. I think it’s
the sort of weapon that a woman might carry.”
“So would this be a lover’s tryst that went wrong?”
“That’s the conclusion I drew at first, but that does not
explain the other weapons we dug up near him.
Jean is in one of the huts cleaning the silver hilt on the dagger to see
if we can see the design more clearly.”
They walked over to the hut.
There was a young woman not much older than Douglas, at a bench looking
at the dagger through a magnifying glass.
She stepped aside as they approached, and Douglas studied the dagger.
“That’s interesting.
I am sure I have seen that design somewhere, but I can’t place it. When you get a chance, could I have a photo
of the hilt and I will look in the library in the house. Better still, as you are the historian, Jean,
you could take a look through the books in the library and see what you can
find.”
The girl gave Lady Lindsay a questioning look.
“Jean, that house is filled with more history than you would
ever know from the outside. There are
books in the library that Edinburgh University Library would love to get their
hands on. You would be a fool not to
take the opportunity to look through them.
“On another matter, Douglas, Margret Campbell was here
earlier asking me to tell you that her father would like to talk to you.”
“Do you ride horses, Jean?”
“Yes, but I haven’t ridden one for a long time, my Lord.”
“In that case I will send Fergus up tomorrow with a spare
horse and he will bring you back to the house.
I will see you tonight, Lady Lindsay, at dinner. I will go over and see what Sir Thomas has to
say before I return to the house.”
* * *
* *
On the way to the Campbell riding school and stables to see
Sir Thomas, Douglas met Fergus.
“Fergus, would you take a horse up to the digging to collect
one of the historians, and bring her to the house in the morning. She has not ridden for a long time, so you
had better go easy.”
“Aye, I will do that, Sir.
Is there any particular time I should collect her?”
“Not really, Fergus.
Any time after breakfast will do.”
“I have heard of one thing that might interest you,
Sir. James Douglas was released from
prison two days ago. My warden friend in
the prison where he was serving time phoned me a short time after I left
you. He said that James Douglas has been
telling everyone for the last few weeks that he will have his revenge on
everyone involved in having him jailed.”
“I don’t think we need to worry about James Douglas and his
idle threats of revenge. However, it
wouldn’t hurt to keep our eyes open for trouble.”
They parted company, going in opposite directions, and some
time later Douglas came up to the fence of the sand school where Margret was
getting her horse in shape for the last event of the season.
“Good day, my Lord.
My father is in the study. He’s
expecting you, so go straight in.”
Just before Douglas reached the door of the study, Sir
Thomas’s wife met him. “Good day, my
Lord. Thomas is in the study waiting for
you.”
Sir Thomas was sitting in an armchair with his leg in
plaster. “Lord Stuart, I am sorry I
cannot get up, but as you see I have broken my leg. I was in the sand school last week and I
slipped while I was holding a horse’s reins.
It stepped back and busted my shinbone.
It’s not a bad break, but it’s going to be damned uncomfortable for
quite a while. Sit down, my Lord, and we
can talk while we wait for the coffee.”
Douglas sat on the sofa opposite Sir Thomas.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but James Douglas has been
released from prison,” Sir Thomas told him.
“He threatened revenge on everyone that put him in prison. He’s not stupid, so I think physical violence
is unlikely, but he has a very bad temper and he has been known to become
violent, as you know. He needs watching
closely.”
The coffee was brought in, and the maid poured them one each
and then she returned to the kitchen.
“Are you worried for your safety, Sir Thomas?”
“No I am more worried for the safety of Margret, and I think
you should be concerned for the safety of your wife.”
“You know him better than me, Sir Thomas, but surely he
would not be that stupid.”
“While he was in prison I had him investigated by a good
friend of mine in the Inverness police department. Investigating him was part of the officer’s
job when James Douglas was first sent to prison. There was a lot of skulduggery in his past
but nothing else with enough evidence to charge him with anything… yet. As you probably know from your father’s bank,
he was investigated for fraudulent activities, and I believe his crimes were so
deep that the investigation is still ongoing.
“Also, my friend told me that James Douglas boasted his
revenge has been going on for decades. I
have no idea what that’s all about, but it’s quite possible there’s more that
we don’t know about and it may have been going on for years.
“I don’t know whether you know, but the Douglas family owns
those forests of pine trees that almost reach our grazing lands. It might be worth checking your
boundaries. From what I am led to
believe, the forests are individually owned by each family member. It might be worth checking the owner of the
section of forest that joins to your estate.”
“Have you reason to suspect that the Douglases are encroaching
on my land, Sir Thomas?”
“Over the last twenty years when your mother’s solicitors
were looking after the estate, I am fairly sure that no one checked the
boundaries. No one takes much notice of
forests while they’re growing, not until the trees are large enough to be
felled for timber. The Scottish Forestry
Commission have little jurisdiction over private forests, although they do get
involved when they are to be cut and replanted.
Now that the trees are approaching the stage when they’re mature and
ready to be cut and replanted, there may be a problem. You cannot allow the Douglases to replant on
your land if the forest has already encroached onto it.”
“Yes, I understand what you mean, and it would be a clever
way of stealing land and blaming it on the growth of the forest. I will ride over there tomorrow and take a
closer look at the forest boundary. I am
grateful to you for pointing this out to me, Sir Thomas.”
“My Lord, we are both landowners, and I would hope that you
would look out for me the same way.”
“Indeed I would, Sir Thomas, and you can rely on my word
that I will get my surveyors to check both our boundaries along that western
end. I will go out there tomorrow with
Fergus and Andrew to take a look. I have
Lady Lindsay in the house for dinner this evening, and I will pick her brains
on the legal issues concerning the Scottish National Trust.”
“There is no need to check my boundaries, my Lord; because
now this has come about I will get some surveyors.”
“It’s not necessary, Sir Thomas, because my surveyors are
friends that fish the river running through my land, so they will do it for
free. They also ride my horses whenever
they’re on the estate. I must go, or I
will be late returning, and my mother has already had one go at me at
breakfast. Look after that leg, and stay
off it until you are told you can walk about.
You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”
“I hear what you’re saying, my Lord.”
* * *
* *
It was late afternoon when Douglas rode into the
stables. Fergus was there.
“Fergus, when was the last time you were over near the
forest on the western boundary of the estate?”
“Must be a good many years ago, Sir. Why?
Is there a problem?”
“I am not sure, but after you’ve picked up the young lady in
the morning saddle my horse and one for Andrew, and we three will go and take a
look at the boundary posts.”
Inside the house, Drummond was waiting to take Douglas’s
riding coat.
“Tell Norma I will need that coat again tomorrow.”
Douglas then went up to his room to wash and change for
dinner. It was a long time before he
came down and entered the lounge and dining area. His mother, Morag and Lady Lindsay were
sitting down in the armchairs talking, and he went over to sit down with them.
“When my mother gave the Scottish National Trust the land to
control, what did they do with it?”
“All the land was straight away designated as an area of
historic interest, mainly because all the various buildings were over six
hundred years old, and some of them very much older. We had people go out to map and date them
over thirty years ago. They are on the
National Trust map with your papers, I would think.”
“You say that it was done thirty years ago. Why did she do it as long ago as that?”
“I was there when she signed the documents, and she knew
that she had very little time left to secure your future. It was to stop any interference of your
birthright when you became of age. She
knew she would have an heir, and she even placed your name on the papers as
co-signatory. It was strange, because
you were not conceived until many years after that signing.”
“I must remember to find that map before I go out in the
morning to check the boundaries of the estate.”
“Is there a problem, Douglas?” his mother asked in a
concerned voice.
“I am not sure, but Sir Thomas told me that the Douglases
own all that forestry on the eastern edge of my estate. There is the possibility that over the last
thirty years it has encroached over the estate boundary. I am riding over there with Fergus and Andrew
in the morning to check the boundary posts.”
“Why would all of this concern you and Sir Thomas now,
Douglas?” Lady Lindsay asked.
“James Douglas has been released from prison for the assault
on Drummond and illegal entry into my home.
However, he is still under investigation by the bank’s fraud department
and the police for other crimes. Not
only that, but he made a series of threats during the last year of his prison
sentence to have his revenge on those that incarcerated him. Sir Thomas told me that he could have set the
seeds for revenge decades ago with the forestry.”
“As the National Trust has a valid interest in this
protected land, I had better ride out with you, Douglas.”
“If you could, I would value your knowledge, Lady
Lindsay. I am leaving after Fergus has
collected Jean the historian and settled her into the house.”
As soon as the meal was over, Douglas began to feel
tired. The weather of the Highlands
often had that effect on him. He had no
desire to sit there while the women gossiped, as inevitably they would do after
dinner, so he made his excuses and retired to the bedroom. Once he was under the covers, he quickly fell
asleep and began to dream again.
* * *
* *
There were many bodies strewn over the battlefield, both
dead and wounded. A few of the clansmen
were still fighting valiantly but knowing they were almost defeated. A nobleman rode to where a knight was lying
with an arrow in his chest. It had
struck between two broken pieces of chainmail that had left that part of his
body exposed and vulnerable. Covering
his chain mail was a vest with a red lion on a yellow background, and around
the arrow the vest was covered in blood.
The vest denoted that this was the King of Scotland, and, to be precise,
James the Fourth. There was an English
soldier drawing back his bill to thrust it into the chest of the king, but the
claymore of the nobleman removed his head.
The nobleman knelt at the king’s side, and the king told him to come
closer so that he could speak in his ear.
A dark shadow covered the scene, and when it cleared and
became came light once more the nobleman was still kneeling at the king’s
side. “Ahearn, my loyal friend, take the
three gifts I have endowed you with and escape the massacre. Withdraw my army, because all is lost. This was my one battle too many.”
The nobleman stood up and mounted his horse. He shouted out, “Clansmen, Highlanders, and
army of King James. The King is
dead. We must withdraw to a safe place
to fight again.”
What was left of the army was now walking in disarray
through the dead to the top of the hill.
There were very few mounted knights and less than a quarter of the army
that had started the battle. The
clansmen were helping the wounded to their feet and taking them along on their
journey back.
The scene went dark once more, and by the time the darkness
cleared it had changed There were
knights and noblemen surrounded by the remainder of the army. A nobleman said to those standing with him,
“Find a horse and send a message to the Queen at Linlithgow Palace that King
James is dead and his army is returning north of the border.” Again darkness covered the scene, but this
time it remained dark.
* * *
* *
It was some hours later when Douglas awoke, but with the
dream still firmly etched in his memory.
Morag was asleep but he decided not to wake her, and he slipped from
under the covers and went to the en suite.
A short time later when he came out Morag said, “Good morning, Douglas. Is it me that is going to be late for
breakfast this morning?”
“Good heavens no. It
is only six.” He stepped over to the bed
and gently kissed her on the lips. “I
have some papers to find before I ride out onto the estate. Go back to sleep, and Alison will wake you in
time for breakfast.”
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Guardian-Angel-2-Ian-Johnstone-ebook/dp/B01CKJBRC8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1457272226&sr=1-1&keywords=ian+johnstone
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Guardian-Angel-2-Ian-Johnstone-ebook/dp/B01CKJBRC8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1457272226&sr=1-1&keywords=ian+johnstone
