Her eyes were like green ice. They made James Stewart exceedingly uncomfortable. But if she was hard, he was yet harder. "Yer to have an escort of a dozen of my men-at-arms," he began, and she nodded. "Somewhere along yer route, and I suspect it will be today or early tomorrow, Nairn and his men will attack yer wee train. The men-at-arms have been ordered to flee as quickly as possible, leaving ye and yer maid helpless. Nairn will, of course, carry ye off into the highlands."
"Ye are certain of this?" Fiona said softly. "Perhaps all he wants to do is have a quick coupling. Will he not be suspicious if my escort flees so quickly? And how can ye be certain Nairn will kidnap me, my liege? If ye have not arranged this, too, then yer plan may well be futile."
"Nairn has been carefully goaded into rashness over the last few days," the king said. "His desire for ye has not been abated one whit. He will abduct ye. He would, I am told, make ye his wife. Bride-stealing is an old Scots custom, as ye well know, Fiona Hay. Did not yer father steal yer mother?''
"Aye, and she spent the rest of her life in misery because of it," Fiona said angrily. "She hated Dugald Hay as I shall hate The MacDonald of Nairn, but unlike my mam, I shall not spend my life in suffering. I will whore for ye, James Stewart, and I will spy for ye, but I will not marry a man I don't love!"
"That, Fiona Hay, is up to ye," the king said dryly. "It makes no difference to me if ye wed him or not."
"Now," she said briskly, "what am I to be paid for this great sacrifice I am making for Scotland, my liege?”
"What do ye want?"
What did she want? She wanted this conversation to have never taken place, she thought bitterly. She wanted to be on the road to Brae. What did she want? What was her happiness worth? She drew a deep breath. "I want a thousand gold merks."
"Five hundred silver," he countered, and she nodded.
"And two dozen head of cattle, and a virile bull," she continued.
"A dozen," the king said.
Fiona shook her head. "No! Two dozen and a virile bull, my liege. And, without Angus Gordon's knowledge, I want my tower house on Ben Hay repaired, put in habitable condition again for when I return, for I will return. I will have no other home then."
"Do ye mean to live alone up on yer ben again?" he asked in surprise.
"Until Black Angus brought me to Brae, the tower house on Ben Hay was where I lived. No one knew we were there. Now my sisters are wed or have plans to wed. I must have some place to lie my head. I certainly canna go back to Brae and ask for shelter, nor do I desire to live with my sisters and their husbands. As chieftain of the Hays of the Ben, that house is mine. See it is made ready for my return. I will send ye a message when I am there. It is then ye will deliver my two dozen cattle and the virile bull. The five hundred merks is to be deposited in my name this day with Martin the Goldsmith on the High Street in Perth."
"What if ye don't return, Mistress Hay?"
"Then ye are saved the cattle and the bull, my lord, but the merks are to be divided equally among my five sisters, and my serving wench, Nelly, if she survives me. I will trust ye, my lord, to see to it. Now, how am I to get any information to ye that I gather?"
The king carefully explained to Fiona that he had a small network of male spies: a priest named Ninian; a cloth and ribbon merchant in Inverness, Master Malcolm; an Irish minstrel, Borra O'Neil, who earned his keep wandering from hall to hall in the highlands entertaining the clansmen; a tinker, Drysdale, who with his wife and blind son meandered about the north repairing the goodwives' pots and other tin utensils while gathering information. Giving detailed descriptions along with the names, the king said, “These four will be your contacts, Fiona Hay. They will be told of your coming. The merchant will be nearest to ye. The priest you are likely to meet on Islay, should ye go there, but the tinker and the minstrel will probably come to Nairn to seek ye out from time to time. Make them show ye this coin." He proffered a small silver piece, which she took. "Only six of these were struck when I was crowned this summer past. Ye now have one, I have one, and the other four are in the highlands with my agents."
“How did ye set up a network of spies so quickly?'' she asked him, suspicious.
"My uncle always had a wee group of agents working for him," James Stewart said. "He didn't trust his brother, the Wolf of Badenoch. I simply picked these four from among the others, who are still useful to me, but the four I have named are invaluable. Can ye write?"
"Aye, I can," she answered him. "Black Angus taught me."
There was that twinge of guilt again, but the king pushed it aside. "Commit nothing to parchment unless absolutely necessary," he warned her. ' 'Neither the merchant nor the minstrel ever forget anything told them, and the tinker has a unique memory in that he can repeat exactly what is uttered in his presence six months later. It is an interesting talent, for unlike the others whose business it is to remember, the tinker is a simple man, I have been told."
Fiona nodded. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"No," he said.
"How long must I remain with Nairn?" A minute will be too long, she thought, forcing back the panic beginning to overwhelm her.
"Until I tell ye that ye may return, Fiona Hay," the king said.
"A year?" she asked him. Dear Holy Mother, not a year!
"Possibly more," he said honestly, noting how pale she had become, and hoping that she would not swoon. Suddenly he wondered if she was strong enough to do this, but there was no turning back now. He needed her in The MacDonald of Nairn's heart-and bed.
There was a long silence while Fiona calmed herself and gathered her strength again. "I must tell my servant, my liege. She should not have to suffer my fate if she does not want to. I canna allow it. She is a faithful, good girl, and does not deserve unkindness. May I tell her here, sire? You will want me to be discreet, I know."
"Where is she?" the king demanded.
"Waiting for me outside, my liege," Fiona replied.
"Get her."
Fiona went to the door of the king's privy chamber, opened it, and called to Nelly to come in. Wide-eyed, the girl stumbled over her feet as she curtsied to the king, awestruck to be in such close proximity with James Stewart. He graciously invited her to sit, giving up his own seat to stand above the two women. Slowly, carefully, Fiona explained the situation. When she had finished, Nelly burst into tears. Understanding the girl's grief, Fiona remained silent until Nelly's tears finally abated. The king looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Ye don't have to come with me, Nelly," Fiona said. "But if ye return to Brae, ye must keep this secret from the laird."
"Not come with ye?" Nelly's tear-stained look was indignant. "Of course I'll go with ye, Mistress Fiona! I would not be doing my duty if I deserted ye. I dare not go back to Brae without ye. Me aunt would have me hide; then she would weasel yer secret from me. Ye know she would!"
"Ye could stay behind in the queen's service, Nelly. The king could arrange such an appointment for ye, could ye not, my liege?" He nodded, and Fiona continued, "Yer aunt would not be able to get to ye then. Besides, she would be so proud that ye were serving the queen. She would suspect nothing and consider ye fortunate to have escaped being kidnapped along with me. I love ye, and I know ye love me, but I would not think badly of ye if ye decided to stay behind."
Nelly's eyes filled with tears again. "Mistress Fiona, ye'll need me, and I will not leave ye," she said, "even for a queen."
"Then it is settled," the king said briskly. "The sun is already up, Fiona Hay. Ye had best be on yer way. Scotland will be all the better for yer sacrifice. The merks will be deposited today, and the rest of our arrangement will be put into effect as well. May God and his Blessed Mother watch over ye, lady."