Their trip took them three days, but the weather held and was pleasant. They avoided the city of Edinburgh with its great castle and bustling streets by adding a few more miles to their travels and skirting about it. Big cities were rife with many dangers and illnesses. The Laird of Dunglais had twenty men-at-arms with him, but traveling with a woman and his beloved child he sought no difficulties if he might avoid them.
Queen Marie and Bishop Kennedy between them had as firm a grip upon Scotland as any regency might have. The lowlands and the cities were peaceful. In the north the Highlands were a law unto themselves, but most of their difficulties were between feuding clansmen. As long as those local troubles did not spill over into the few towns there, or into the south, the government was content to allow the local lords to hold sway over their people.
And as for that great enemy, the English, they were too busy with their own problems, the least of which was a deposed king who had fled to Scotland. But as Queen Marie had switched sides, moving her tacit support from the House of Lancaster to the House of York, the new Yorkist king, Edward IV, was content to leave things as they were. And besides, he was too busy solidifying his support in the south to be bothered with what was happening in the north as long as the north would not prove a threat. Henry VI was a toothless old lion and was unlikely to ever reign again. And Scotland's king was a child unlikely to lead his armies over the border.
Each night of the first two they traveled, they stopped at a monastery where they were welcomed in a guesthouse, the men in one, the females in another. They were served a simple meal each evening and again in the morning before they departed. The Laird of Dunglais would leave a donation in keeping with his station, but one that erred more on the side of generosity in order that when they returned they might be welcomed back.
"We will reach Ravenscraig today, late," Malcolm Scott told his companions as they set off the third morning.
"Where exactly is this castle, my lord?" Alix asked him.
"In the region called Fife. It overlooks the Firth of Forth to the south. The king bought it from the Mure family, I believe. The owner had no heirs, was old, and had little wherewithal to keep it up. He died shortly thereafter."
"Is it a great castle?" Fiona wanted to know.
"It is a small castle," her father told her.
"Oh," the little girl said, sounding disappointed. "Shouldn't a king have a great castle, Da?"
The laird chuckled. "Kings have both great and small castles," he told her.
And then in late afternoon, even as the sun was hurrying towards the western horizon, they came in sight of Ravenscraig. While Malcolm Scott had said it was a small structure, he had not told them how impressive a castle it was. And upon its battlements the queen's banner was visible, announcing to all that Marie of Gueldres was in residence. Their party approached it slowly, showing the men-at-arms upon the walls that the visitors were friendly. The banner of Clan Scott with its great stag and the clan's motto, Amo, embroidered upon it, went before them, announcing their arrival.
Chapter Seven
Ravenscraig Castle sat on a low rocky promontory' set between two dark shingle beaches overlooking the Firth of Forth. Two rounded gray stone towers greeted the visitors approaching from the land side of the castle. A drawbridge lay over a water-filled moat at the gate entrance. The tower to the west was the oldest part of the castle, but the tower to the east had a deeper foundation where steps led down to an underground stable. The queen resided in the West Tower. Their party clopped across the oak bridge, beneath an iron portcullis, and into the courtyard between the towers. They were met by a captain wearing the queen's badge.
Malcolm Scott dismounted, saying as he did to the man, "I am the Laird of Dunglais, here at the queen's command. My daughter and her companion travel with me."
"I am David Grant, the queen's captain at arms," the soldier replied. "Aye, you are expected, my lord. If you and the ladies will follow me, I will take you to Her Highness." He turned to the Scott men-at-arms. "You men stable your mounts and then you may come to the great hall to be fed. You'll sleep with your horses. Ravenscraig isn't a large dwelling." He signaled to a soldier at arms, who came immediately. "Show the Laird of Dunglais's men where they are to go and then bring them to the hall."
"Aye, sir!" came the quick reply, but David Grant was already hurrying away with the guests.
"Your trip was an easy one?" the captain inquired pleasantly.
"Good weather always makes a trip smoother, especially when you travel with a woman and a child," the laird answered as they entered the tower, following the captain up a flight of stairs to a second level into a great hall.
Another man wearing the queen's badge hurried forward. He had an air of self-importance about him.
"This is the Laird of Dunglais and his family," David Grant said to the man. Then to the laird, "This is Master Michel, the steward of Ravenscraig Castle. He will see that Her Highness knows you are here." He bowed neatly to them and left.
The steward nodded to the laird and waved a servant to his side. "Go and tell Her Highness that her guests have arrived from the borders." As the servant dashed away, Master Michel said, "I have a bedspace for you, my lord, here in the hall. The ladies must share a small chamber." He signaled to another servant, who dashed to his side. It was obvious that those who served Master Michel were well trained. "Please take these two ladies to their assigned chamber," he told the serving woman who had come in response to his silent demand.
"Da! He called me a lady," Fiona said excitedly.
"Fiona," Alix admonished, but she saw the steward's quick brief smile out of the corner of her eye. "Come along now." And taking the little girl's hand, she followed the servant from the hall.
They were led up two flights of stone stairs to a narrow hallway. Down the dim corridor the woman trotted, finally stopping before a small door. She opened it and ushered Alix and Fiona inside. "You've a hearth," she said proudly. "Her Highness likes her guests to be comfortable. I lit the fire earlier. There's wood and peat both. Ah." She turned at the sound of footsteps. "Here's your trunks. Put it there at the foot of the bed, Finn, and you, Gordie, place yours beneath the window."
The two servants did as they were bid.
"There's water to wash the dust of your journey off," the serving woman said. "Shall I wait, or can you find your own way back to the hall?"
"We'll find our way," Alix said. "Thank you so much for your kindness."
The serving woman gave her a quick smile. It wasn't often guests thanked her. She departed the small chamber, closing the door behind her.
"We will bathe and change our clothing. We do not want to meet the king's mother dressed in our travel garments," Alix said to Fiona.
"I liked it when they called me a lady," Fiona told her companion. "They did it three or more times!"
Alix smiled. "I always felt special when I was your age and someone would refer to me as my lady. I wasn't, of course, but everyone in the household knew it pleased me. My father began it," she remembered with a smile. "We must hurry now, ma petite."
They quickly removed their travel clothing and bathed their hands and faces in the warm water they found in a pitcher in the hot ashes of the hearth. Then Alix helped Fiona into her scarlet velvet gown, and, after brushing the child's long dark hair, outfitted it with a matching ribbon with tiny freshwater pearls about her forehead. She made Fiona sit upon the bed while she quickly dressed herself in the green velvet gown she had made. Brushing her hair out, she confined it in a delicate gold caul. She found the little chamois bag and took two thin gold chains from it, putting them over her head. The gold took away from the severity of the deep green of her gown. She then pulled out her rings, slipping them onto her fingers. Rings were an important accessory, and many women wore them on every finger, and the most fashionable wore several rings on each finger, fitting them onto each joint. Alix had five rings. She wore three on one hand, and two on the other. They had been her mother's but for one that her father had given her.