The Price of Freedom by Carol Umberger Read Free Book Online Page B

want her guardian to be Rodney, she was certain it couldn’t be Black Bryan.
    Could it?

THREE
    K ATHRYN REDIRECTED HER ATTENTION to the knight. Sir Bryan rode to the end of the causeway to converse with his men then returned to face the curtain wall.
    â€œLady Kathryn, you leave me no choice. Yield willingly and all will be spared. Otherwise I will order my men to attack.”
    Kathryn watched the equestrian warrior as she waited for Fergus to return with Rodney. Mackintosh’s horse pawed the earth, mirroring Kathryn’s restlessness. No more demands were shouted at her and a growing anxiety enveloped her as she paced the small space.
    Fergus returned, grim faced. “My lady, Sir Rodney is on his way. He was . . . talking to one of the kitchen maids.”
    She stared back at him a moment, surely as grim-faced as her friend. Here was proof that Rodney hadn’t changed as much as he wanted her to believe. How could she even consider him as a husband? Once she’d thought her love would change him, but she held little hope of that now.
    Fergus said, “Kathryn, there is more you should know. The knight has nearly one hundred men surrounding the walls.” With each castle that fell to the Black Knight, Bruce’s army grew stronger. Bruce now controlled all but a few scattered pockets of resistance and the great castle at Stirling.
    There were fewer than thirty men within Homelea. She had no doubt that the knight and his men could overpower her forces. To command them to defend Homelea would condemn many of them to death. They would die for naught, because in the end Black Bryan, with his superior numbers, would win.
    At the sound of footsteps, Kathryn turned from the window and saw Rodney enter the small room. Fergus left, relieving Kathryn of the fear the two would come to blows. Rodney, his clothing disheveled as if he’d dressed hurriedly, went to the narrow window. He shouted to the mounted warrior, “This is Lord Rodney Carleton. Be gone, Mackintosh!” He turned to face her. “Go to your quarters, Kathryn. I’ll deal with this nuisance.”
    Kathryn held her ground. “I remind you I am the Countess of Homelea and you are my guest. Do not order me about.”
    â€œYou are my betrothed. Do as I say!”
    â€œI haven’t agreed to a betrothal—”
    â€œYou have no say in the matter. You and Homelea are mine, as of this day.” With a withering glance, he dismissed her and turned back to shout at the warrior, “Leave now or face the might of the king of England.”
    Frustration welled up in Kathryn. How dare he treat her so, as if she had nothing worth saying about the future of her home and her people! Was this what marriage to him would mean—total submission to a tyrant? She knew the answer well enough— Rodney had shown his true character only too clearly two years ago. And contrary to his charming words this morning, he hadn’t changed at all.
    Tears threatened, for if she were ever to marry she wanted it to be to a man who cherished her. If she must face the prospect of dying in childbirth as her mother had, she wanted to at least be valued for the sacrifice.
    Furthermore, her husband must live by God’s Word. She knew enough of Rodney to know that God was of little or no importance to him. Yet she must yield to someone. Take Rodney as husband, or give herself and her home to Scotland’s king and hope for better? Rodney or Black Bryan? England or Scotland?
    A clamor outside caught her attention and she looked toward the window. She heard the knight say, “Carleton, I warn you, do not order those archers to fire on me. Now let me speak to the countess.” Impatience sounded in the knight’s bellow.
    Rodney must have sent her archers to man the walls.
    â€œThe countess has no authority to bargain. Deal with me or be gone.”
    In that moment, Kathryn knew she could not allow Rodney to decide her fate or