Book: Dragonfly in amber. Book 2. Time of battles

rest. What Karl did for the Scots - was it inevitable? Or is his true destiny to be what he is now - a symbol, an icon? If not for him, could Scotland have sustained a two-hundred-year alliance with England, while still retaining its individuality?

"I think historians should irritate you some," Roger ventured to note. - And all the writers - they made him a hero. I mean, in Northern Scotland, you see images of the crown prince at every turn – whether it's a can of beer or a souvenir mug.
- No, not historians. Not them at all. Their greatest crime is that they allow themselves to express their opinions about events that they know only presumably, having in their hands only what history has deemed necessary to leave us. And only a few of them behind the smokescreen of false facts and papers see what really happened.

To a new thousand, to new cells again.

Unwinding the blood-stained handkerchief, I pressed my wounded hand against his arm. our fingers intertwined. The blood was warm and sticky – it hadn't curled between our palms yet.
"Blood from my blood," I whispered.
- ... and flesh from my flesh, he said quietly.
None of us dared to ubody the last words of the oath: "... until death separates us." The words spoken hung in pain between us. Jamie smiled bitterly.
"And even longer," he said firmly and pulled him back to him.

- God, I tell him: you gave me an amazing woman, and, oh God, I loved her very much.

“Yes, I would,” he said, “but I didn’t carry your child.

“Yes, I would,” he said, “but I didn’t carry your child.

“I know,” he said quietly. And while you sleep, let me tell you about my love. Because when you wake up, I can't say anything - I'm afraid that all my words will seem empty and stupid to you. But when you fall asleep in my arms, your dreams will tell you that I am telling the truth. Sleep, my love.

“You are the wife of Red Jamie, and he loves you very much, my dear,” he said softly.

- That's the only chance! Dougal hissed back. - Give it to them in exchange for our freedom! They won't touch her if they think she's our captive, and then we'll bring her back if we stay alive!
I came out of my hiding place, walked over to Jamie and grabbed him by the sleeve.
- Do it! - Hurriedly said I. - Dugal is right, this is the only chance!
He looked at me helplessly, his face distorted with anger and horror, but something resembling a grin flashed in his eyes - he understood the irony of this situation.
"After all, I'm English," I remarked.
With a gentle smile, he patted me on the face.
- Yes, but you're my Englishwoman.

- Yes, but you are my Englishwoman.

- Yes, but you are my Englishwoman.

The Scots fought according to ancient traditions. They despised strategy, tactics, and all sorts of military tricks. Their method of attack was extremely simple: rushing into the ranks of the enemies, they, losing their blankets, drew their swords and rushed after the enemy, yelling at the top of their lungs. A wild Gaelic cry is what it is, and usually, seeing hairy barefoot devils rushing at them, they simply lost their presence of mind and fled.

“You don't know a woman well, my love.