7th June, 1329.

Carmichael, Lanarkshire.

Scotland.

Duncan sat at a bench in the tavern of Carmichael. It was one of the few buildings that remained intact thanks to its stone walls. Part of the roof had been burned away, but the beer was good, and the food even better.

Lady waited outside, as despite most of the party vouching for her, she still caused people some anxiety. It was just the way people were, he knew, but that didn’t stop him from feeling awful. Sir Matthew had only let her stay on the condition that she be kept on a short chain.

Duncan had protested the condition, saying that it was stupid, especially since she’d saved their lives multiple times. Even Owen and Brian had vouched for her, but the Knight was adamant.

“We cannot have her terrifying the village, not after everything they’ve been through.”

Only a few hours before Colm and the others had arrived, a raiding party of about twenty riders had attacked, burning and slashing anything they could. The villagers were fortunate Sir Matthew kept his men well trained and armed, or the damage and death could have been worse.

Even so, most of the buildings in the village needed to be repaired. The Knights' home was a ruin, having been the focus of much of the attackers' ire, but they had burnt many of the smaller huts to their foundations. Charcoal smeared tents now replaced many of the buildings in Carmichael.

Duncan ate and drank quickly, eager to get back to Lady despite the pleasant company. Across the table, Vincent and Catherine were regaling him with stories of their adventures as children back in Douglas. Duncan had never been close with either of them, as Vincent was too old, and Catherine had been uninterested in boys her age.

Their flirtation was being watched by Catherine’s parents, whose hawkish eyes assessed every move poor Vincent made, and he knew it. Duncan let them to their flirtation, busying himself with filling his belly with mutton stew and beer.

Finished with his meal, Duncan walked outside. Stretching tired limbs, he suddenly found Lady attacking him with a shower of drool as she licked the stray drops of sauce from his face.

“HEY!” He yelled. “Enough of that!

Well, what do you expect when you leave me alone to be guarded by strangers?

The two men Sir Carmichael had assigned to her should keep the villagers from overreacting. They stood there, bored, their pole-arms supporting much of their weight.

“Duncan!”

Colm’s voice sounded from the local Knight’s partially destroyed home. Duncan approached the Master Carpenter. He’d sent Duncan to go get some food a few hours ago, saying that he needed to work on something.

The reason for Colm’s labours escaped Duncan. It was a cross of thatched hay bales, as tall as a man, and as wide as he could stretch out his arms.

Colm stepped back from his work, admiring it with pride. “That should do!” he said.

“What is it?” Duncan asked, curiously.

“Crann Tara.” Colm said, his voice ringing with certainty. “It will rouse Sir Matthew.”

“What’s a Crann Tara?” Duncan asked.

“Din’t you learn Gaelic?”

Duncan shook his head.

“It’s a sign that war has come and that all men must take up arms and join the banners. It’s the Fiery Cross!” Colm said.

“But why burn a cross?" Duncan asked, still not understanding.

Colm just looked at him in frustration. As Sir Matthew approached, he could hear Colm cursing softly.

“Tá sé chomh tiubh le cac agus gan ach leath chomh húsáideach.”

“What was that Colm?” Sir Matthew asked.

“It was nothing, Sir Matthew. Are you sure you cannot spare men?”

Sir Matthew looked at the Cross. “I have already forbid them on their oaths as my tenants to leave. Calling them to war shall not work.” He said.

“If we don’t have the men to retake the keep, Sir, then ye may as well abandon the village. The raiders will keep coming.”

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take, Colm. There are too many refugees here now.” The knight explained. “Your group is not the only one to have come to us. Right now, there are about a hundred men and their families crowding up the field outside the village. It’s likely the raiders didn’t bother them because they have nothing worth taking.”

“Ye didn’t check?” Colm asked.

“Of course I checked. If they had anything, they might pay for their defence. As it is, they have been building a settlement in the runrig field to the south. The tenant died a few years ago and there’s been no one left to work the land.”

The knight mused for a moment, having come up with an idea.

“Perhaps you can take the men amongst your refugees off to relieve the town. I can spare some old weapons and padded jacks if they’re willing.”

“But no men at arms?” Colm asked.

“No. They are needed here. The land is barely defensible as it is, and this is no time for women and children to be moving. If my men were to leave, the raiders would destroy the village within a day. At least if my men are here, they’ll be able to stave off the worst of the raids.”

Colm grunted. Duncan could see he clearly disagreed, and he felt the same. To come all this way in the hopes of relief, only to find things were just as bad here was disheartening. Worse was that the Knight refused to give any meaningful aid.

Duncan had an idea and spoke up. “Perhaps you could give them some training in the Bow, Colm. They don’t need to draw much, and with your crafting, you could make enough for those willing to come.”

Colm grinned at him. “Making a bow is a matter of hours, lad. And that’s if I have the staves aged and prepared. To make a hundred within a few days. That’d be nonsense.”

He turned to the Knight of Carmichael. “Sir, we’ll take what you can offer. It will take a few days for us to get ready to leave, but in the meantime, can your men offer to train any who are willing?”

“Aye,” Matthew agreed, “I’ll have the Serjeants open the armouries to your people. They’ll train those who agree to come. I’m sorry I cannot provide more aid, Colm. That bastard Balliol's men sacked two other villages within a day’s ride. We’re only hanging on here. If you can recapture Douglas, perhaps the news will spread and more will join you.”

Colm nodded, asking for directions to Crofter’s field.

Duncan, thinking quickly, spoke up. “Sir Matthew, I know you don’t wish Lady unchained in the Village, but may I set her loose if she stays in the Douglas encampment?”

The knight thought for a moment, and nodded. “If Colm agrees to take responsibility for the Douglas refugees, aye.”

Colm readily agreed, smiling over at the Cu-Sith as he did.

“If we had more of her around in Douglas, it's likely we’d chase these bastards to London.” The Knight said, following Colm’s gaze. “If only we could overcome superstition and fear in a day.”

Duncan frowned, turning to the Knight. “Why don’t you?” he asked. Seeing the Knight frown back, Duncan explained further. “You have dogs here, don’t you? Why not set them to hunting and allow them to level?”

“Aye, we have, but they haven’t levelled like yours has. Most are wee things. Terriers and the like. The largest is now about waist high, but we keep them in the Kennels. None are as clever as your beast.”

“But you have rats, don’t you?” Duncan asked. “Set the dogs on the rats or let them loose to help protect against the raiders. The more experience they have, the larger they’ll become. If they’re anything like Lady there, they’ll soon prove their worth!”

Sir Carmichael thought that over. “I’ll certainly try it. Thank you, lad. You wouldn’t be wanting to stay?”

Duncan shook his head, smiling as he saw Colm scowl at the Knight. As Colm tucked the straw-baled Cross under his arm, though Duncan could see that Colm was stewing with anger.

Colm muttered under his breath. “And to think we don’t have enough men as it is, the bugger asks the lad! Mullach do chin fut!”

“What was that?” Duncan asked.

“I wished himself would go fall on his head.” Colm said, grinning at Duncan. “The gall of the bugger. Still, he has a duty to his tenants and lands first. If the Lord is not here to command his obedience, it is his choice. We must abide by his rule.”

Stopping by the tavern, Duncan released Lady from her chain. She shook gratefully and butted one of the guards, who gave her a discreet pat on the head in return. That one fed me some sweetmeats. He’s a friend.

I’m glad they treated you well, Lady. I’m sorry you had to endure that.

They’re just pups. When they learn to accept the system, these things will change.

Vincent emerged from the Tavern just then, with Catherine on his arm. “The Innkeeper just told us there were others like us who had arrived yesterday. We encamped them in a field to the South.”

Catherine smiled at seeing Lady unshackled and gave her a scratch under the chin. “Mama said we’ll be heading up there in a moment. Did Sir Matthew have news?”

Colm nodded. “None of it is good, though. If we are to relieve Douglas, we must do it ourselves. He’s offered weapons and some padded armour, but it likely will be old, rusted and worn.

Vincent immediately volunteered to come with them, but Colm only smiled. “I’m grateful lad. And when we’re ready, we’ll be glad to have you along. For now, enjoy your time together.”

Catherine’s mother, Leanne, gave him a sharp glare, hearing Colm’s words as she and her husband emerged from the tavern behind Vincent and their daughter.

“Edward and I have discussed it. You can enjoy each other’s company when you're wed.” She said. "For now, you may call on our daughter. From a distance."

Turning to Vincent, she smiled. “We’re sorry about your father, and your brothers, lad. We shall speak to your mother about the Dowry when she is safely returned to you.”

As soon as she turned her away from Vincent to face her daughter–who at that moment was clutching his arm to her bosom - her tone became sharp and menacing. “And you!” She prodded her daughter’s chest. “Behave yourself, or we shall chain you inside the wagon for your own good.”

Catherine's father, Edward, snorted at that. "Good luck with that." He muttered under his breath, and Colm let out a laugh that was cut short when he saw Leanne's glare fall on him.

Catherine reluctantly let go of Vincent’s arm, but hovered as near to him as she could, bouncing on her toes with a giddy glee. Duncan could see that the young couple was joyous that Catherine’s parents were already discussing marriage. He knew it was early in their courtship, but the families knew each other well.

She’s in heat. Lady commented. She'll be having pups soon.

Duncan nearly choked as he turned his burst of laughter into a coughing fit to spare the couple any embarrassment.

Leaving the Vincent and the Merchant's family to see to their wagon, Colm, Duncan and Lady proceeded towards the runrig field the Knight had directed them to.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to find the field. It was a large square of land, less than half a mile from the village. Edged by hedges and trees, the field was about two furlongs on a side, with its highest point being a large mound that rose in its centre. Upon that mound were a mess of makeshift tents, lean-tos, and the occasional wagon. There were hundreds of people in the camp.

They were moving about almost constantly; cooking, building, and adding to the comforts of the camp. As they approached, Colm and Duncan could make out that a large group was loudly arguing at the edge of the camp.

Men who had once been neighbours raised their voices at one another, trying to shout each-other down. There was a large cluster of them pushing each other, and Duncan decided now was a good time to try his ability.

Reaching the nearest fire, Colm ignored the protests of the shocked owner and planted the large cross within the flames, pushing hard upon the arms to embed the stake at its base firmly in the thawed soil.

The cross immediately ignited, sending flames towards the skies and heads all over the camp turned in their direction.

Duncan saw that many were curious about what was happening, and craned their necks or stood on tip-toes to gain a better view. Several Douglas townsfolk recoiled at seeing Lady, even going so far as to pick up tools, and moving to protect their families.

The people soon calmed as they recognized Colm, and word spread through the refugees that something was afoot.

People gathered around, and the sound of their voices rose from a murmur into a loud discussion. Duncan heard "Fiery Cross" and "Call to War" were oft repeated.

Activating Inspired Speech, Duncan raised his voice. “Good people!” He tried, but the noise from the arguing townsfolk drowned him out.

Colm was also trying to speak, but was being bombarded by questions as people pointed from the cross to Lady and back to him.

The veteran archer's face twisted in disgust, and he cupped his hands about his mouth, shouting in a voice that had carried over battlefields. “Quiet ye, amadán. Can ye not see the Fiery Cross burns?”

To punctuate the yell, Lady barked. Her loud cry stunning everyone so much that they froze in place. The effect lasted a few seconds, during which the encampment fell still. The only sounds were the crackling of the fires and the rumble of a grindstone spinning to a halt.

As the refugees of Douglas unfroze, they turned, and many gasped as they saw Lady up close for the first time. Fortunately, they also all recognized Colm.

“What do you mean by that?” A big, barrel-chested Labourer stepped forward. Duncan had seen him about, mostly at the tavern where he had fought as a pugilist for coin. “And why do you bring a monster, Colm?”

He was carrying a large mallet in his two meaty hands.

Duncan blocked his way, and as the man tried to move him, Duncan matched his strength and pushed him back.

“Don’t touch her. That’s my dog, Lady. She evolved as she gained Levels." Many in the crowd had gasped at seeing Duncan manhandle the much larger man.

Their shock apparent at his sudden strength, Duncan tried to calm himself, remembering that most of those present had never seen Lady in this condition.

"She might look different, but she’s got the same kind heart.”

“Who are you?” The big man demanded. “And if that's your devil dog, what other evils might you have you brought?”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“I'm Duncan Baker, though I don't have a kenning of who you might be either." Turning to the rest of the crowd, he addressed them, ignoring the big man.

"You all knew my pa, and many of you knew me and Lady from about the town. As to why you don't recognize us, it's because we've both grown as we levelled. If you'd made it to the Keep, you may have gained levels too - if you managed to survive.” He said.

“Survive? What codswollop. It's pretty clear to me you ran. And this story about you being known to these folk? What kind of game are ye playing?” The big man pushed Duncan, only to step back in sudden fear as Lady pushed forward, snapping her teeth closed an inch before his nose.

She growled deeply and a look anger clouded the man's face. To Duncan's shock, the oaf growled back.

Before he could do anything, Lady moved. Lowering her head she swiftly butted the man in the gut with her snout.

He flew back, curling up in the dirt and clutching his stomach. Gasps of fear and awe came from the onlookers, but their consternation quickly subsided as they saw Duncan hug the giant ebony hound. His gentle and reassuring pats and scratches calming the animal quickly.

“If you're done?” Colm asked the burly man, clearly intending to launch into a pre-prepared speech.

He opened his mouth, about to begin, but Duncan, with a hand still on Lady's neck, raised his own voice before the master carpenter could say another word.

“We didn’t come here to argue, or to fight!” Duncan shouted, so that all could hear him. “We came here to beg for your help.”

“Aye, you both seem capable enough,” an older, surly man said. “And we all need help here, lad. Are you offering an exchange for work? We can give food and shelter if you need it.”

Duncan smiled, shaking his head. “No, that's not it. We're not looking for shelter, we're looking to help those who cannot help themselves.”

He looked about and saw a few heads were nodding, clearly thinking that they were deserving of that aid. Duncan quickly rectified their misunderstanding. “We cannot sit idle while murderers roam the countryside, and we cannot return home while enemies besiege the town. If the killings are to end, we must be the ones to end them.”

More confused looks met the statement. “What are you talking about, Laddie? There is nae killing happening right now. Our problems are with this bitter cold, and wi' getting enough food. What do you expect us to do about murderers? That's the Lord's problem, not ours.”

Duncan shook his head. “You say it's the Lord's problem, while all of you sit here, without hearth or home, food or comfort? It is your problem too! And there is another problem, far worse that you know nothing of...”

Duncan paused, allowing them to stew. “...there are killers and killings in our home of Douglas.”

The crowd murmured once more at this outrageous statement. Many asked what they could do: They had fled the attackers. They had no weapons. They weren’t fighters, but craftsmen and traders.

Duncan raised his voice once more, recalling a story his father had once taught him. Shouting over the crowd. “Remember the Gospel of Samuel, and the story of King David of Israel! If a shepherd can become a King, then you can become soldiers for God is with us! And His will shall be done!”

This caused a stir in the crowd, as people were inspired with a sudden pride. Duncan had always admired the stories of the bible, but his favorite were those told by his father, about a shepherd who had become a King. It was part of the reason he'd taken Lady so often to aid the shepherds in the fields around Douglas.

“And who’ll lead us?” A voice shouted. “Who’ll protect the women and children?”

Colm stepped forward. “I will lead, and Sir Carmichael has promised protection to those who cannot join us.”

Another voice shouted out. “I shan’t be goin’. Sir Keith will defend the Keep, and the Lord will return with his men soon. Why should we fight if we can wait instead? My children will starve if I cannae provide for them.”

Duncan looked over at Colm. Clearly, the news hadn’t spread. Duncan spoke up again. “Sir Keith was murdered by a turncoat. I found him dead in his chambers and discovered the traitor as he opened the gates to the enemy. The curtain wall has fallen, though we think the keep holds out. As to our escape? It was only thanks to Lady here that we managed to break out.”

“So, you fled!" The voice came from the big man, who climbed to his feet, clutching his side where Lady had butted him. "Why should they follow such cravens as you?”

Duncan was about to reply but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Looking about, he saw Colm shaking his head.

"See, they don't deny tha..."

In a blur of motion, Colm punched him.

Hard.

The man dropped to the ground in a mewling heap, his jaw hanging at an odd angle.

“You speak like that of our courage again, and I’ll rip your tongue out of your head, so help me.” Colm crossed himself, spitting on the ground to avert evil.

Just then Vincent appeared with the others they’d arrived with. The group was leading the cart-horse up the small rise, and a few in the crowd shouted out, recognizing them.

“Is it true Vincent? Is Sir Keith dead? Did the…”

Vincent’s face grew stony. “Aye, it’s true.”

The tavern keeper’s son paused for a moment, swallowing as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. Throughout their journey to Carmichael, Duncan and the others had studiously avoided admitting the loss of their family and friends. There had been too much to do to reflect. Now they were forced to confront that grief.

Duncan himself was grateful that the others' attention was on Vincent, as he felt himself sob involuntarily. He tried to stop himself from crying, but found he couldn’t and tears ran down his face.

Lady was there for him though, and he couldn’t help but laugh as her wet tongue began slather his face as she caught the tears. Don’t weep, Duncan. Your father’s spirit is in heaven now, with God.

Duncan sniffed and pushed the Cu-Sith’s head away gently. Thank you, Lady.

A thought occurred to him. Will I see him again? He asked.

Lady shook her head. If you do, it will be because we both died. But in this lifetime, you could only see his spirit.

Duncan nodded, reassured that he would one day be reunited with his father, at least in some way.

Their moment of grief was interrupted as Colm stepped forward to say what Vincent and Duncan could not.

“Sir Keith, Vincent’s father and brothers, as well as Duncan’s father, are all dead. So are many of the men who stayed to defend the Keep.”

Murmurs of shock ran through the crowd, and many looked with sympathy at Duncan and Vincent.

Colm continued. “As Duncan said, a few of the men made it to the Donjon, and would have escaped the slaughter, but most of the fighting men fought to the last. The women and children who were with us at the keep remained within the tower. If they dropped the portcullis, it’s likely they hold still. But if they are not relieved soon the keep shall fall, and they will be at what little mercy their captors choose to show.”

The townsfolk began discussing that news, many crossing themselves or whispering a prayer for the salvation of their fellows.

As the hubbub waned, another man stepped forward, raising his voice. “But Lord Douglas will return with the rest of his men, won’t he?”

“We don’t know how long the Lord will be gone. He is attending the King, and likely will not return for some time if these raids are widespread. If the people in the Keep are to be saved, it must be by our action, together! There is no one else.” Colm shouted to assuage any doubts that responsibility now lay with them.

There was a murmuring in the crowd at that, as people discussed the idea. They were afraid, and Colm knew it. He could see that many were shaking their heads, and quietly turned to Duncan. “Lad, you have some skill at talking to folk. You must rally them now, or we’re lost.”

Duncan thought for a moment, and then an idea struck him. Beckoning Vincent and Catherine over, he whispered to them for a moment, then stepped away from them. He nodded to Colm and climbed upon the wagon so that all could see him.

He turned and addressed the crowd, raising his voice to silence the many opinions and prayers being shared.

"Our Lord has fought many years for us to see peace, and for many years we grew fat on the safety he provided. He has lost family, as have many of you, but we did not aid him. He has lost lands, as have many of you, but we did not fight. Now he has lost his home, as have you, to the enemy who invaded our lands. And yet we stand here, and hope that the Lord shall save us."

A few heads nodded. "That foolish oaf was right." Duncan said, gesturing to the man who lay curled in a ball, cradling his broken jaw. "We should be ashamed that we fled. Ashamed that we did not make our stand that day together, and thus forced the enemy to heed the will of the People and Lord of Douglas."

More heads nodded. "But out of fear and hope to save our own lives, we fled, and now we find ourselves here, in a field, scrabbling for what food we can, and placing our hope on the Lord's return?"

"I say no!" Duncan shouted. "I say we pledge ourselves to our land. Pledge ourselves to our Scots land! Take back our homes from the bastards who think to steal from us. Take a stand now! Take a stand and take the lives of those who tried to kill our friends, our neighbors, and our families."

More heads nodded now, but Duncan knew that agreement was not action. "Colm has spoken to Sir Carmichael and gained us access to armour and weapons, but we lack the men to wield them in defence of their homes."

A few voices raised at that. "I'd defend my home if those bastards come again!" One said, regret clearly etched upon his face.

"Aye!" answered another. "Let them try again!"

Duncan shook his head, seeing that they were not with him yet. "But you'd let them remain in Douglas?"

"I cannot leave my family." One man said, braver than the rest. "I would go, but who would protect them?"

"Who is protecting them now?" Duncan asked. "You have no weapons, no armour. You're living at the mercy of the bandits and what protection Sir Carmichael can offer. If you wish to save your family, you must take a stand against those who wish them harm!"

The man shook his head, stepping back. Others did so too, but Duncan saw their families were there too, many of them staring at those men fearfully. "Look to your families now! Will you suffer to see them remain in these conditions? Will you stand idle and watch your children starve?"

He turned his gaze upon a cluster of men who had retreated from the front of the crowd. "Or will you behave like the Men of Scotland that ye are, and fight?"

Duncan kept his face impassive as he saw those men who had turned away halt in their tracks. The suggestion that their manhood was being impugned was enough for most, he now realized. These were all Scotsmen, and proud. Realizing what was needed, he continued.

“We need men!” His voice was steady and firm. “We need men, the like of which fought at Bannockburn, at Stirling Bridge, at Falkirk. We need the Lions, not the sheep. If you are truly Scotsmen, you will join us to take back your homes. If you are true Scots, you will leave your wives and loved ones, and take up arms for the House of Douglas and for Scotland! You will join with us as brothers, and together, we shall re-take our homes!”

"Who will join me in this great cause?" Duncan asked. "Who will join me in fighting for our Scotsland, our Lord, and our Freedom?

There was a silence that lasted seconds, but seemed to Duncan to stretch for hours. Then a voice spoke up behind him.

Vincent stepped forward as Catherine desperately tugged at his arm, trying to pull him back. With a chaste kiss on her forehead, he turned to the crowd, and in a loud, firm voice, shouted. “I will go!”

Duncan had asked him to say only that, but he continued. "I am to be wed soon, and cannot do so until my mother and home is safe. I shall go. For Love, for my Land, and for the Lord of Douglas!"

Silence ensued for a moment, before other men in the crowd stepped forward, many of them pushed by their wives or daughters. Others, seeing the courage of the newly arrived Vincent, looked around shame-faced and joined them.

Then something happened which surprised Duncan beyond anything he’d seen in his brief life.

A sweet voice, delicate and feminine, shouted from the back. “I shall go too!”

A woman stepped forward. She was young, but her face was set in a mask of determination. One which reflected Duncan's own.

Many of the younger women–those who had yet to marry - also stepped forward.

Seeing this, Catherine grabbed Vincent’s arm. “If they are going, I shall too. We shall prove to those bastards that the women of Douglas are to be feared as much as the men. God is with us!”

The sudden pride and certainty in her voice shocked Duncan, but seeing it, Catherine’s father and mother stepped forward, too. Her father took her hands in his. “If God has set this course, daughter, then I shall come with you.”

His wife smiled. “And I too. I am not much for fighting, but I can cook a mean stew!”

Colm looked around at the people of Douglas. Only a few of the families chose to stay, mostly those with younger children and those with men too old or injured to keep up in the march.

He turned and nodded to Duncan as the younger man hopped down from the wagon. “Well done, lad. I might lead their feet, lad, but you led their hearts just now. See you do not fail them."

Duncan nodded seriously, accepting a measure of responsibility, though he wasn't confident he could make another speech like this. Looking up, he whispered a prayer.

Above Duncan could see that the clouds above were clearing, signaling another change in the odd weather of the Tribulation.

Colm had seen it too. "We’ll leave in a few days and allow the weather to clear as much as it can. We need to train these people as much as we are able and pass out the equipment Sir Carmichael provides. I'll ask Edward to see him about the supplies too. If anyone would know how much is needed, it will be he.”

Duncan nodded his understanding.

Colm raised his arms and shouted the Douglas war cry, which was soon picked up by other. Lady, listening to the rising cheers of the people of Douglas, joined them with an echoing howl.

Duncan turned to Colm with a grin as the chant of "A Douglas, A Douglas" rang throughout the field.

It was time to turn these townsfolk into warriors.