“Arrange things as you wish, Dunblane,” he said curtly and rode on.
He was, however, well aware that the horses were being left in the charge of henchmen and a procession had formed behind him on foot.
First came Dunblane as his immediate bodyguard and with him should have been his kinsmen, if Torquil had not been a prisoner of the Kilcraigs and Jamie too young.
Then came the bard, an old man whom the Duke remembered since his father’s time.
Barding was hereditary and carried with it a grant of land. The Highlands had no written history and a man’s reputation and the memory of it could rise or fall on the tongue of the bard.
The Duke wondered wryly what would be said about him when he was dead and thought it unlikely that his behaviour would inspire an epic poem.
Behind the bard came
