“What’s yer name, lad?” he asked, not unkindly.
“Baloch, yer grace,” he replied.
“Baloch,” William repeated. He looked to the man’s hand. “How many fingers did ye lose?”
Baloch lifted the bloodied, bandaged appendage. “Two,” he said. “Two before Alpin began tae speak of the Earls of Orkney,” he said. “Alpin’s wife was spared and she was brought tae him, so he answered their questions tae save her life, too. I was taken away once he started tae speak so I dunna know what became of him.”
William nodded, pondering the situation, what he’d been told. “Ye dinna see him again?”
“Nay,” he said. “But there’s something else. The man ye knew as MacEacharn? He was with de Velt. I dunna know why, but he was there. I’ve seen that man at yer side more than once, but he was with the English.”
William stared at him for a moment before suddenly looking around, realizing the enormous man with the unusual eyes was nowhere to be found among his retainers. He hadn’t noticed until that moment because he had so many of them, but he realized quickly that something was amiss. Very amiss.
William was many things, but a fool was not among them.
“MacEacharn,” he muttered. Then, he snorted as if amused, but there was no such humor in his expression. “MacEacharn a spy? I dinna anticipate that.”
Baloch and the others were watching William closely. The revelation of a spy so close to the king was not lost on any of them. William scratched his chin, sighing heavily, before returning his attention to Baloch.
“Fountainhall is really gone?” he asked.
Tears began to form in Baloch’s eyes. “Burned until it’s nothing but a shell,” he said. “And Alpin’s men… good men… were all put on poles tae die. They are lining the road as far as I could see. Some were already dead, some weren’t. I can still hear them calling tae me, begging me tae put them out of their misery.”
William frowned. “On poles? Tied tae the poles?”
Tears spilled down Baloch’s face. “Nay,” he said. “Do ye no’ know how de Velt kills armies, yer grace? His men went intae the forest and cut down young trees, making one end very sharp. They take the end of it and ram it intae a man’s body through his buttocks, all the way through his body until the sharp point comes out of his chest or neck or belly. Those who dunna die right away are left tae a slow and terrible death. That is what de Velt promises ye and yer men should ye try tae cross intae England.”
William already knew about de Velt, but through Baloch’s eyes, he got a clearer picture. So did his men. He didn’t dare look at them, knowing the fear and rage and disgust he would see in their eyes. In fact, it was a rather brilliant move on de Velt’s part – he knew what kind of effect that level of brutality would have on the Scots. He also knew it would do one of two things – it would either be a deterrent for them to forget their plans or it would turn their anger against him and away from the rebellion that was forming.
It would be distracting, in any case.
Brilliant, indeed.
“So the Sassenach knows of our plans,” he muttered. “But how much does he know? That is the real question.”
Baloch shook his head. “This, I wouldna know,” he said. “But the attack against Fountainhall wasna only tae destroy it. They left Alpin alive tae tell them what they wanted tae know.”
William lifted an eyebrow. “Ah,” he said. “They wanted a prisoner, someone tae interrogate. But how did they know that Alpin Canmore would be that man?”
No one had an answer until the man standing next to William spoke softly.
“They have their spies in our court, yer grace,” he said. The man was the young Earl of Fife, the Justiciar of Scotia, a powerful hereditary title. Alexander MacDuff was a trusted, and reasonable, man. “Just as we have spies in theirs. There is enough spying tae go around these days. Someone told de Velt tae go tae Fountainhall and capture Alpin because he is a man who was known tae gather in yer court.”
“Then ye’re saying he was targeted.”
“Indeed.”
“And the man lives near the border, so de Velt dinna have tae go far tae find his target,” William finished. “De Velt’s fortress is near Alnwick, is it no’?”
No one seemed to really know. They were looking at each other, shaking their heads, shrugging. But one thing was for certain; Fountainhall never stood a chance against the de Velt war machine.
William’s focus returned to Baloch.
“Was that all de Velt told ye tae tell me?” he asked.
Baloch nodded. “Aye, yer grace,” he said. “If yer armies cross the border, de Velt will be waiting and he will no’ be the only one.”
William sat back in his chair, mulling that information over, before motioning to one of his men. “Take Baloch tae the kitchens and feed the man,” he said. “Find him a bed so he can sleep. But he’s no’ tae leave.”
The man William had motioned to was a big man, young, with a heavy short sword sheathed at his side. He nodded, pulling Baloch up from the bench and escorting him from the hall. Baloch’s movements were slow, weary, like a man who had just been on a flight for his life.
When he was out of the hall, William spoke.
“It would seem our intentions have reached the ears of the English,” he said with some irony. “But I suppose I couldna keep it private for much longer. Every Scotsman in the Highlands is heading south, tae Edinburgh. The Northmen are already on their way. Sooner or later, the English would realize we have come tae reclaim Northumbria. It was mine in my youth, ye know it. The earldom of Northumbria was mine until Henry took it from me, the English bastard. But I’ll have it again before I die. ’Tis mine.”
MacDuff spoke up. “If the English warlords in the north know of our intentions, then Berwick could be in jeopardy,” he said. “We hold it, but enough angry warlords could breach it and oust our garrison. It has happened before. And we need Berwick.”
William nodded faintly, digesting everything, trying to determine what they needed to do at this point. “The Earl of Ross has men stationed there and has for twenty years,” he said. “Angus MacHeth’s son is in command and the man has his orders. He knows that he is tae admit the Northmen intae the river when they arrive. If MacHeth is ousted, the boats will be kept at sea and we’ll no’ have the reinforcements we need.”
“What do we do?” MacDuff asked with concern. “If we send more men tae reinforce Berwick, the English will catch wind of it. They’ll think we’re planning our attack from Berwick and it’ll draw them tae the town. We dunna need a concentration of English armies in Berwick when the Northmen arrive. It would be much more resistance than they anticipated.”
William knew that. He sat back in his chair, putting a booted foot on the tabletop. “We’re assuming the English know about Berwick,” he said. “Alpin Canmore knew of it. We’ve had gatherings twice in the past year tae discuss such things and he was present, so he knew of our plans. Did he tell de Velt?”
MacDuff snorted softly. “De Velt was cutting off fingers tae coerce him,” he said. “He had the man’s wife. Of course Canmore told him what he knew.”