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The guards exchanged a look, but one of them shook his head.
“The Bruce will be pissed,” Owen said.
“I dinna hear nothing about anyone from the caliphate,” the guard said.
Craig appeared from the doors. “What’s taking so long, Owen? The king is asking for ye.”
“These good men dinna want to let Amber in.”
Craig frowned, clearly confused. “Amber? Why would she—”
“Aye, she’s a renowned military strategist from the caliphate. And the king would very much appreciate her advice.”
Craig’s forehead flattened. “Oh, aye. Lads, let her in. The king wants her in here.”
The guard sighed and stepped aside, letting Owen and Amber pass.
Men stood around one of the tables, the benches set aside. The king himself, Uncle Neil, Dougal, Craig, James Douglas, the Bruce’s brother, Edward, and several others stood around the table. Their presence suffused the great hall with a palpable pulse of power.
“Owen Cambel”—the Bruce raised his head—“finally.” He frowned at Amber. “Why is this woman here?”
“Lady Amber’s a traveling mercenary from the caliphate,” Owen said. “She was hired by Kenneth Mackenzie.”
“The caliphate?” The Bruce’s look sharpened. “Dinna women there sit inside harems and produce children? ’Tis what I heard.”
Amber raised her chin. “Not all of them. The strongest ones build their own lives. At least, that’s what I wish for them.”
His strong lass. But would the Bruce believe her?
“Why are ye here?” the king asked. “A woman doesna belong on my military council.”
If the wrath of the king would fall on Amber, it would be Owen’s fault. He needed to protect her. “I believe her unique knowledge from the caliphate might be beneficial. I have seen her fight and she possesses military skills I havena seen before. She is an asset to ye, Your Grace.”
The Bruce held him in his long gaze, then Amber. “’Tis most unusual, but these are unusual times. I’ll allow it. But rest assured, if I suspect foul play, ye will be held a prisoner, Lady Amber.”
Owen suppressed an urge to shield Amber from the king’s words. Another threat of prison… That must be hard for her.
The Bruce gestured for them to come closer. “Tell me, what happened, Owen. How did ye come to hear the information about MacDougalls and the ambush?”
Owen walked towards the table, feeling the eyes of every man on him. His da’s gaze was especially heavy. Owen could physically feel it on his skin. But his father was not his concern now. He came to stand at the table and met the king’s eyes. They were dark and piercing, the eyes of a man who knew what he wanted and expected much from himself and people around him.
The man who’d made himself king.
He wouldn’t forgive a weakness, or a mistake.
“As de Bourgh took Inverlochy, he took me prisoner.” He looked back at Amber, who stood behind him. The Bruce studied them both. “As well as Amber. De Bourgh tortured her, trying to find out anything that would compromise ye or the campaign. And when it was my turn to be interrogated, John MacDougall showed up.”
The Bruce’s sharp gaze pierced Owen. “Aye, and?”
Owen’s fists clenched as he remembered the rage that had thundered in his body. “We talked. As ye ken, our clans have a history.”
The Bruce shook his head briefly. “As does mine with his.”
“Aye. He beat the shite out of me and knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, de Bourgh and MacDougall didna ken that I was listening and they discussed their plan. Yer peace treaty with the MacDougall ends in a sennight. He kens ye’re coming for him since he’s the last strong clan in Scotland that stands against ye. And he kens the only way to his lands are through the Pass of Brander.”
“Aye.”
“He wants a repetition of the Battle of Dalrigh. He will ambush ye there.”
