Mary Peace FinleyAward-winning author of books for young people
But Duncan's smile was not for gold, and it was not for the King. Duncan smiled because no one would work today. Even Duncan and his father, John Fisher, the Village Fisher, would not fish until after King James arrived. Duncan could watch his otters. "I'll be going now." He ducked under the carved wooden fish that hung above the doorway of his family's stone and wood house. "Aye, no ye wil'na, lad!" A rough hand grasped his arm. "Ye wil'na be going to the river today, and ye wil'na be playing the fool with the wild creatures of the woods! Today we honor our returning King." Duncan knew his father would never understand. He could not tell him about the months of waiting or his weeks of gently coaxing. He could not tell him what he otters had done just yesterday. For John Fisher, otters meant only two things: torn nets and pilfered fish. "But Father," Duncan said, "why should I honor King James? He has been in England since before I was born!" Duncan eased away from his father's grip. "Uncle William says Scotland is better off without him. We Scots don't need an English King to tell us what to do!"