Page 78 of Highland Spy

“Caleb, get yer arse out of bed. The king wants to see ye,” came Logan’s voice as he pounded on the door.

“The king?” Caleb shot up in bed. “I’ll be right there,” he told Logan, hurriedly starting to dress. “I wonder what he wants. I almost forgot that he was still here.”

“Calm down, Caleb. I’m sure it’s nothin’ bad,” said Bridget, dressing as well.

“How can ye say that?” he asked. “I let the king down. I was his champion and I didna win the Leader of the Lairds.”

“Caleb,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “No matter what happens, I am here for ye. Now, take a deep breath and release it and just relax. We’ll go see the king together.”

Five minutes later, Caleb and Bridget walked hand in hand out to the courtyard where the king was waiting atop his horse with his guards and entourage of men all around him.

“I’m sorry to keep ye waitin’, Yer Majesty,” said Caleb with a bow as he approached his horse. Bridget curtsied.

“Bridget, I wanted to see ye as well,” said the king. “I am sorry about yer faither.”

“Thank ye, Sire,” she replied softly. “I have the Highland Chronicles that ye requested.” She took the book out of a bag she carried. “I’m sorry that my faither wasna able to finish recordin’ the results of the Leader of the Lairds competition.”

The king nodded to one of his men to take the book from her. “I will cherish the Highland Chronicles and I will always think of Brigham, my loyal chronicler and friend, when I read it. I think he deserves a mention in this book as well.”

“I’m sorry that there is no one to write it,” said Bridget.

“Oh, but there is,” he said with a chuckle.

“There is?” Bridget’s head snapped up and, for a moment, she thought the king was going to say her. “As soon as Sorley recovers, he will be my new chronicler. I am goin’ to ask him to add yer faither to the book as well.”

“Thank ye, Sire,” she said with a nod. “I am ever so grateful. It would have made my faither very happy.”

“Now, Caleb,” said the king. “I need to talk to ye about what ye did in the competition. Storm MacKeefe and Clement MacLean, please come forward as well.”

Caleb felt as if he were about to be chastised by everyone, since he let down his clan as well as his king. He saw his friends Logan, Hawke, and Ethan watching from nearby, and a crowd gathered around him.

“I never did announce this year’s winner of the Leader of the Lairds Competition,” said the king.

“But . . . I was disqualified, and Clement is the winner.” Caleb looked up to him in question.

“Aye, and nay,” said the king.

“I’m sorry, Yer Majesty, but I dinna understand,” said Caleb.

“Clement MacLean told me that ye sacrificed yer chance at winnin’ the contest, distractin’ the guards and the dogs because ye believed ye werena worthy of winnin’ since ye are no’ a laird.”

“Well . . . I . . .” He glanced over to Clement. The man nodded at him. “I guess so,” he said.

“That was noble of ye,” said the king. “I have no doubt in my head that with yer abilities, ye could have won that contest easily. Yet, ye didna want to take the prize away from one who is a true laird.”

“I think the prize should go to one who is a laird since it is a competition for lairds only,” Caleb answered.

“But ye were playin’ in my stead,” Storm reminded him, still sounding sore.

“Aye. And I am sorry I let ye and the clan down, Storm,” apologized Caleb. “And Yer Majesty, I am sorry to have let ye down as well.”

The king laughed. “Ye didna let me down. I am proud of what ye did, Caleb.”

“Ye are?” Caleb looked up in surprise.

“That is why I am goin’ to split the prize between ye and Clement MacLean, and I am goin’ to let ye determine what part of the prize ye want.”

“Me? Nay, I couldna,” said Caleb. “I’m no’ sure that would be fair to Clement.”