The Price of Freedom by Carol Umberger

that of her daughter. If Rodney ever learned of Isobel’s existence he would use the girl to exert his will over Kathryn. God must have sent the Black Knight for a reason, a reason she couldn’t know. She must yield to him and trust in God. Although she would be at the mercy of Scotland’s king, at least, as Fergus had said, he could not force her to marry Rodney. Bruce might be an unknown, but she certainly knew Rodney only too well.
    That thought incited Kathryn to action. She shoved past Rodney, ducking under his outstretched arm and cried out, “I yield to Robert the Bruce!”
    â€œHow dare you defy me!” Rodney grabbed her by the hair and she screamed in terror. He clapped his hand hard across her mouth and her tongue tasted the coppery tang of blood. As he shoved her aside, Kathryn’s head banged against the stone wall and she lay dazed upon the cold floor. She was dimly aware of someone’s boots rushing past her.
    When she regained her senses, she heard a grunt of pain. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she saw Fergus draw back his fist. Blood dripped from Rodney’s nose—Fergus had already landed at least one punch.
    Fearing more for Fergus than Rodney, she shouted, “Fergus, no! Stop.” The thud of flesh on flesh answered her as the men tumbled to the floor, flailing at each other.
    Kathryn struggled to her knees while the room filled with clamoring voices and jostling bodies. Evidently someone had sent for her steward, Peter, because he and several men at arms crowded the small room, pulling the adversaries apart.
    Peter rushed to her side and asked, “My lady, what happened?” He looked at Fergus. “What have you done?”
    Fergus ignored his question and stared with unmasked hatred at Rodney Carleton.
    Kathryn rose shakily to her feet with Peter’s help. “Do not rebuke Fergus, Peter. He came to my aid.” Again. Thankfully he was uninjured this time, save for a bruise on the cheekbone below his bad eye and a bloody lip to match her own.
    Rodney stepped forward, wiping his bloodied nose with a cloth. “I’ll have the knave whipped. He interrupted a private matter between Lady Kathryn and myself. A matter we still must resolve. Take the boy to the bailey and hold him,” he ordered.
    No one moved except Fergus who crossed his arms across his chest.
    Rodney glared at Peter. “Steward, take him and leave the lady and me in private. All of you.”
    â€œI will not; she is bleeding.” Peter dabbed the blood from her face.
    She pushed at his hand. “’Tis little, Peter. Stop fussing at me.” To Fergus and the men at arms she said, “Escort Lord Carleton to the bailey. And see that he comes to no further harm,” she warned Fergus. She glared at Rodney. “I will deal with you after I settle with Sir Bryan.”
    â€œKathryn, I warn you!” Rodney growled. “Edward will not allow this treachery to go unpunished.”
    Kathryn watched impassively as the men at arms restrained Rodney. Strengthened by the growing hope that perhaps Sir Bryan was indeed the rescuer she’d prayed for, Kathryn said, “You will leave Homelea within the hour, Rodney. If Sir Bryan permits it.” She paid no heed to Rodney’s continued protests as he was forced down the stairs.
    Fergus, arms still crossed, said, “I’m staying with ye.”
    Peter gently touched her arm. “I regret I am not a younger man. I’d have joined Fergus in thrashing that brute. Let Fergus stay with ye.”
    She nodded and Peter left her with Fergus.
    â€œWhat are ye going to do?” he asked.
    She shuddered. “I cannot marry Rodney. He is cruel and unrepentant. I . . . I have yielded Homelea to the Black Knight. That is why Rodney struck me.”
    Fergus remained silent for a moment. “So, ye believe it will go better for ye with Scotland’s king?”
    She raised her face to heaven.