Ancient Strife (Caledonia Book #2)

Michael Phillips

Description

Young Parliament member Anthony Trentham continues his quest to learn about his Scottish heritage in order to decide his next political move. Through stories read and told to him, he discovers more about his ancestors and the history of Scotland. He also encounters a feisty Highland lass who stirs his heart. Will he find the courage to stand up for his beliefs?

Sujets

• Historical romance

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 mars 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441229588
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2000 by Michael Phillips
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-2958-8
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Cover design by Dan Pitts
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Contents
Caledonia
Epigraph
Prologue
1. Intrigue in High Places
2. Call of Ancient Roots
3. Legacy of the Kilted Highlander
4. Northward Toward the Past
5. Forging of a Kingdom
6. Sleuthing on the Web
7. Romance That Changed a Nation
8. Another Shake-Up In Westminster
9. Normanization of the North
10. Northward Toward the Future
11. Stature of a Hero
12. Climax in Whitehall
Epilogue
Notes and Bibliography
About the Author
Books by Michael Phillips
Caledonia
An Ancient Strife

In the year 1314, the most significant battle in the history of the land called Caledonia was fought on Scottish soil, between a small river called the Bannock Burn and the town of Stirling. This is the story of events and personalities leading up to that decisive moment in the ancient strife . . . and of that portion of the drama which may yet be waiting to unfold.
Epigraph
Cuimhnich có leis a tha thu.
Remember the men from whence you came.
Old Gaelic Proverb
Prologue
The Legend and the Prophecy

S ATURDAY , J UNE 22, 1314 N EAR S TIRLING , S COTLAND
An unsteady flame flickered low in the summer’s late night.
The company in the tent was not comprised of many men, but the strategy they were devising would change the history of their land forever.
“I argue against your going out alone, my lord King,” said one of the party, a loyal nobleman of his ancient clan and lieutenant of the division commanded by Walter the Steward. “They may send an entire regiment against you.”
“They will lead with their heavy cavalry,” replied the King. “I am sure of it.”
“I salute your courage, my lord,” rejoined Douglas, “but the risk of harm befalling you is too great.”
That Douglas had perhaps been emboldened to speak thus because he had been knighted by the King himself earlier that same day in no wise lessened the pluck required to raise the specter of doubt on the night prior to battle.
“If you die, my lord, Scotland is doomed,” he added in honest tribute. “No one else can unite the country and lead its nobles as you have done.”
The tent grew silent.
Douglas had voiced the reservation that several of the highest-ranking officers held in their hearts concerning the King’s final suggestion. The English, so the scouts said, would be coming north along the Roman road from Tor Wood tomorrow with numberless troops. King Robert the Bruce commanded but six thousand Scotsmen.
The silence continued several minutes.
At length the King turned his head unexpectedly toward the youngest of those present in the tent, a lad of less than twenty years, who looked more the part of armor-bearer or groom than general.
“And you, young MacDarroch,” he said, “what advice would you give your King on the eve of battle? You have heard the objection. What does your stout heart tell you in the matter?”
Whatever may have been the reaction of the elder nobles around the table to the King’s asking such a one to render opinion on the momentous proceeding, their faces displayed nothing.
The ensuing wait was brief.
“My lord Douglas speaks wisely, my lord King,” replied the young man with a confidence in excess of his years, “when he warns care on your part. Your courage will be required as long as the battle wages.”
A brief pause followed. He appeared to be siding with Douglas.
“And it shall be so given, I am confident,” Donal MacDarroch went on even more boldly. “Let them ride against you. Let them discover whom they have chosen for an adversary—and what manner of man rules over this land.”
“Bravely spoken,” commented Bruce.
MacDarroch said nothing.
“Would you ride beside me to await them, MacDarroch?” asked the King.
“With honor, my lord King.”
The Bruce waited but a moment more, then turned the piercing gaze of his strongly chiseled face back to the nobles seated with him.
“It is decided then,” he said firmly. “If this stalwart youth places such confidence in me as to answer thus without a note of fear in his voice, shall I doubt myself? No—I will meet them as proposed, whomever they send to dispatch me. If we can entice Edward’s army across the river bridge and lure them into the bog . . . the battle will be ours.”
He glanced at his four commanders—his own brother Edward, Thomas Randolph, Walter the Steward, and James Douglas. Each in his turn nodded solemn consent.
The candle burned low.
Robert the Bruce spoke once more. His voice contained the accumulated tradition of one hundred fifty generations of the inhabitants of his land. Upon his shoulders, in that moment, did the legacy of that history and the destiny of his kingdom come to rest.
He was a man standing alone at the apex of his nation’s history. He was at that moment himself authoring the legend for a race and a nation to follow.
“The time has at last arrived,” he said softly, but with the fervor of the great warrior heart rising in his breast, “when the interloping Sassenach must be sent back across the border—not for a mere day, or year, or season . . . but forever. The moment has come for us to claim once more the land of our fathers, the land of our Kings, the land of our heritage, the land of our birthright.”
Another pause, this time brief. Then Bruce spoke again, calling his beloved land by its ancient name:
“Hail, Caledonia! We pledge here and now that you shall not be taken from your own people again!”
1 Intrigue in High Places

One
Fog clung soupy and thick to an isolated stretch of rocky coastline. Whatever ancient Viking explorer first discovered these lonely islands between Scotland and Scandinavia, few had found them habitable through the centuries. Even now their population was sparse, and no visitor walking their isolated moors and coastlines could realize from the lonely topography their strategic importance to the future of that once proud land whose nationhood had been taken from it two hundred fifty years before.
Through the dusky fog of evening strode two men whose attire and demeanor could not have been more out of place in this region where fishermen, poor crofters, and birdwatchers on holiday made up 98 percent of the resident population. The expensive suits and faintly discernible gleam of opportunity in their eyes gave them away as entrepreneurs or politicians, perhaps both. One was of medium build, the other tall and uncommonly slender, though muscular—a physique that to an unwary observer masked his power and the danger in which one stood who dared to cross him.
This particular location had taken them two days to reach. To keep out of the public eye, they had discreetly boarded an overnight ferry, then remained in their private cabin for the fourteen-hour northward crossing. It was about as far removed from civilization as either had been in their lives. But for what the latter of the two had long been planning, this remote parcel of land represented the focal point of all he hoped to achieve—an objective that currently hung in precarious balance, owing, as he judged it, to the stupidity of his associate. Despite recent setbacks with regard to the fabled Stone of Scone, however, he still hoped to pull the thing off.
If they succeeded, both would become rich and powerful men—more powerful than the one had been only a short time before, and perhaps even more powerful than the other still was.
“They’re looking for me everywhere,” said the shorter man, whose standing in public affairs had suddenly plummeted. “I’m leaving the Isles directly from here.”
“To the Continent?” asked the taller man, whose prestigious position remained intact.
“Right. Then to our friends down under.”
“They should be able to arrange to keep you out of sight.”
“It will give me a chance to firm up that aspect of our plans.”
“After what happened, perhaps it might be best if you disappeared permanently. They should also be able to set you up with a new identity.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that. Don’t get the idea of trying to cut me out now.”
“Whatever your involvement,” rejoined the tall man, “your political career is certainly over. Scotland Yard is sniffing about high and low for you.”
“Have you been questioned?”
“Not yet. Our association has so far escaped attention.”
“Just make sure when everything falls together—whether a year from now or ten—that my share does not disappear. I may have been taken out of the political game, but I am still a member of the committee.”
“Don’t worry. You will be provided for.”
“I expect to be more than merely provided for.”
“I assure you, there will be plenty for all. In the meantime,” said the tall man, glancing around, “the next step will be getting our hands on this piece of ground.”
“Do you seriously think this is the only place that will work?” asked the other, scanning the lonely site. “One stretch of rock around here looks about the same as any other.”
“This protected inlet could be the key. Look around—it would make a perfect harbor. Not only that, but preliminary tests reveal a strong likelihood that the field extends under the coast exactly here. The rights will be everything.”
“Have we been successful yet in contacting the owner?”
“My people have traced i