Highlander's Embrace

Epilogue

~Epilogue~

1540 — September

A shadow lurked in the King's chambers. The final day of his leave from his home in the lowlands, he was sleeping peacefully, without a worry in the world. A messenger had come into the castle that morning, fatigued and exhausted. He had a letter addressed to the King, detailing the exploits of MacDonald and MacKenzie clansmen in the battle against Maxwell, a man responsible for the unrest in the kingdom for the past two decades.

The first man the messenger reached was Laird Maxwell, who insisted on reading the letter before showing it to the king. The messenger was summarily thrown in the dungeon, and was found with his throat slashed open later that evening when his dinner was being served. The letter was burned.

Laird Maxwell lurked in the shadows of King James' chambers. He gripped a knife tightly in his hand and moved against the bed, his hand resting on it and disturbing the King. The knife was a precaution, a heady and impulsive precaution, but a precaution nevertheless.

The King awoke and stared at Laird Maxwell, sleep clouding his eyes with confusion.

"What is it, Maxwell?" He rubbed his eyes and groaned loudly.

The Laird chuckled. "I received a letter today, your Highness."

"Can't it wait? I'm sleeping!" his voice was too tired be angry. "Get out before I throw you out."

Laird Maxwell twirled the knife against his wrist and imagined slicing the King's throat, laughing as the blood would spill out onto the bedding and his body would slump against the sheets. Robert Maxwell eyed the crown on the bedside table he would undoubtedly place on his head, before announcing his control of the throne. No. That wasn't a plan at all.

A bead of sweat ran down Robert's forehead as he thought of what the King would have done to him if he had received the letter as expected. He thought of a better idea. "You're right, your Majesty, my apologies."

"Good. Now get out." King James turned on his side and fell back asleep. Laird Maxwell slipped a roll of parchment into the King's robes, ensuring they would be hidden deep in his pockets. He kept a copy on himself. Both were sealed with the King's wax. As an advisor to the King, it wasn't exactly difficult to borrow the King's seal for an afternoon.

Laird Maxwell left the room. Now for the rest of the plan. Moving down into the royal stables, he found the carriage that would take the King back to his castle, the one he always used. He made sure it would catastrophically fail. Not immediately, but that it would.

Robert Maxwell turned into to his chambers to ready for his own trip. One that wasn't prepared or official, but would be necessary.

The next day, the King's carriage would collapse at some point on their journey to the lowlands, rendering the King and his caravan useless. Maxwell archers would arrive and slay the King's men and the King himself, leaving the evidence to point to MacKenzie men.

After several days, a hunt would ensue to find the missing king. When his body was recovered, a sealed will would be found on his person, detailing Laird Maxwell as the next heir to the crown.. With the sealed copy on Laird Maxwell's person, supposedly given to him in secret by the King himself, he would fake his surprise at the revelation and take the crown for himself.

Scotland would be his. And the MacKenzie's would pay for what they did.

Especially the MacDonald woman that should have been killed twenty years ago.

THE END