Chapter 16

Chapter 16

With a sigh of resignation, Rob rolled off Adela and when she got up and headed for the washstand, he watched her as he shouted, "Go downstairs, Henry, and order food for us. I'm starving. We'll be along shortly."

Henry began to protest but broke off, apparently realizing he had done all he could and that there might be good reason for the delay.

Adela poured water into the basin from the ewer and began washing her hands and face while Rob collected their clothing. As she turned to take her shift from him, a thought struck him that made him chuckle.

"What?"

"I was thinking about Archie," he said, taking her place at the washstand. "The look on his face—aye, and yours. In troth, lass, I never thought you'd do it. I knew you could if I could persuade you to try in earnest. But I thought it would take much longer before you'd act so decisively. By heaven, though, you used what you'd learned and you did it well. The only criticism I'd have would be for your disrespectful treatment of your husband afterward."

"You made me angry, laughing at him like that," she said as she pulled the shift over her head and smoothed it into place.

"Aye, and doubtless I'll make you angry again, often. But I hope you don't mean to make a practice of tilting me onto my backside in front of all the lads."

She looked rueful. "I expect they all knew you as Einar Logan."

"Aye, they did," he said, pulling on his breeks as she donned her kirtle and tied the laces. "Some did not always treat me with the respect I thought I deserved, either, although I'd come to Hugo determined to learn humility. Not knowing then, any more than I did, that they dealt with a future baron, some of them went right out of their way to humble me."

"It must have been difficult for you," she said.

"Difficult" did not come close to it."Not much worse than when I began training at Dunclathy," he said. "I must not have learned as much as I'd hoped, though, because when they began laughing after you pitched me to the cobbles, the old temper surged right up again. I failed to see any humor in the situation until I was halfway up the stairs watching your skirts twitching so invitingly ahead of me."

He leaned against the bed and pulled on his boots with one hand.

"Did all of them at Roslin or Hawthornden know you before you became Einar?" she asked as she tied the em broidered girdle low on her hips and carefully overlapped its long ends to hang properly.

"Nay, only Hugo's own men, because most of the others here are Sinclair men," he said. "They serve Henry or the countess. I'd visited Roslin before, of course, but only as a lad or in Sir Edward's fighting tail. A few of Sir Ed-ward's men from Dunclathy knew me well enough to have recognized me even after I'd grown Einar's beard, but I kept out of their way. To everyone else, I became Einar Logan, known for things I did well and teased for other things, as most men are. I soon came to be one of Hugo's closest captains, though, because we'd so many things in common. With no land or men of my own, life seemed good with him, sithee."

Adela was not sure that she did see, but as he reached for his shirt, she remembered his wound and demanded to see if it had suffered in his fall or during their more recent activities.

This time he did not object, and she saw that although it still looked angry, it seemed free of incipient putrefaction.

"You certainly are moving more freely," she said.

He grinned. "Aye, lassie, you provide excellent motivation. In truth, the wound, though painful, is not as bad as the one before when the arrow pierced my jack o' plate and went straight in. That wound kept trying to close up, wanting to fester, so someone had to keep opening it to let it clear."

She grimaced at the image.

"'Twas no pleasant experience, that," he said. "This one, being open at both ends, behaves better, and moving about is good for it. So I can scarcely lay blame to it for letting my lass overset me as she did. You learn fast, sweetheart."

She smiled, pleased with herself. The satisfaction his approval engendered was delightfully new to her. She was far more accustomed to criticism or being taken for granted.

"Sakes, that reminds me," he said as he laced his shirt. "What did I do with that wee packet Archie gave me?"

"It's there on the floor," she said, pointing. "What is it?"

He picked it up and handed it to her. "See for yourself," he said.

She unwrapped it to find a short, leather-handled dirk in a leather sheath.

"I wanted you to have something to defend yourself," he said. "I'll show you how to use it later. First, let me show you how to wear the sheath." With a grin he told her to raise her skirts, then strapped the sheath snugly above her knee. "Your sister Isobel has one just like it," he said.

"It feels strange," she said, unsure how she felt about carrying a weapon.

"You'll get used to it," he said. "Now let's find Henry and eat. Afterward we'll all have a thorough look round. There is much here I want to show you."

In the hall, they found a grim-looking Henry supervising the serving of their overdue midday repast. As gillies scurried around the high table, Henry glanced appraisingly at Adela. When she smiled, his expression remained somber.

She shot a questioning look at Rob, but he gave a slight shake of his head, so she did not comment on Henry's mood.

Rob said, "You made good time, Henry."

"Better than I'd expected, given the countess's usual traveling habits. She was eager to return to her new grandson. I've brought all your clothing, too."

They thanked him, Adela fervently, and the three continued to chat desultorily as they took their places at the table.

When they had ascertained that they had all they needed, Rob dismissed the servants and said, "Let's have it, Henry. What's amiss?"

"Did you think I was jesting with you?"

"Sakes, then, is it true? Is someone dead—murdered?"

"In troth, I do not know the whole. I own, I exaggerated because your man said you …" Hesitating, he glanced at Adela, then added glibly, "But what I heard as we were leaving town was that someone attacked de Gredin late last night as he walked back up to the Castle from town, and that he lay near death. I did not stay to learn more, thinking it more important to get my mother safely back to Roslin."

"Why was the chevalier in town?" Adela asked. "We left him at the Castle."

"Apparently, he was attempting to call on you," Henry said. "He went to Clendenen House whilst the countess was still with Ealga, but they sent him away, saying you had retired and it was too late for callers, in any event."

"It was certainly late," Rob said.

"Aye, but their wee lie may somewhat complicate matters," Henry said.

"How so?"

"I sent one of my lads to learn what he could before he followed us to Roslin. He caught up to us just as we reached home and told me de Gredin had managed to say you were the one who had attacked him."

"When am I supposed to have done that?" Rob asked.

"Aye, well, that's the rub for them, isn't it?" Henry said. "Sithee, he says he knows the time exactly, because the abbey bell had just begun ringing Nocturnes. He said he could have counted all twelve strokes whilst his attacker beat him."

Adela said, "But we were in the abbey kirk then."

"We were approaching the stables when the tolling began," Rob said. "You jumped a foot, remember? Where did this supposed attack take place, Henry?"

"In the High Street just past St. Giles."

"Then I think we can clear my name easily enough."

"Aye, if you get the chance," Henry said. "The abbot can speak for you, but it won't help if you're dead before then. Of course, he may be Fife's man. If so—"

"Nay, he's not, for he called Fife the lofty earl," Rob said.

"Aye, he did," Adela agreed. "He said he was a religious man, too."

"Well, the lofty earl is apparently setting it about that no one can be sure that you are, in fact, Sir Robert of Lestalric," Henry said. "He has said that since no one knows where you've been the past nine years, you might even be an English spy."

"But the King recognized him," Adela reminded them both.

Henry shrugged. "Fife will say the King is too senile to know what he is saying, that he heard the name and saw what he expected to see."

"The abbot recognized me, too," Rob said. "In any event, we'll deal with all that if we have to. For now …" He hesitated, then said, "Henry, was your man able to learn if de Gredin was truly injured or how serious his condition is?"

"He knows only what he heard at the Castle," Henry said. "According to Fife's people there, de Gredin was grievously wounded and may not survive."

"I'd guess his survival depends on how Fife judges the value of his sudden death against that of his continued existence," Rob said.

"Aye, but you can see why the countess and Ealga having told de Gredin that Adela had already retired to bed may create a problem."

"Easily explained," Rob said. "We need only say they did not want him to cause a scene at the abbey. Considering his attentions to my lass, they might well have thought he would create one if he learned why we had gone there."

"Then someone had better relay that tale to Ealga, because I did not tell them you had married Adela," Henry said. "I thought it best to keep that to ourselves until we knew where we stood all round. I did think it best to tell my mother about your wedding before we reached Roslin, however," he added.

Adela looked at Rob again and was surprised to see his eyes twinkling. "I'm almost afraid to ask," he said to Henry. "What did she say?"

"That she knew how it would be from the first and wishes you both happy."

"Sakes," Adela exclaimed with a surge of relief. "I hope my father reacts as well when he learns what we've done. I don't even want to imagine what Ardelve's people will think when they hear of it."

"I'll wager that no one will complain," Henry said. "Ardelve's son will be glad not to have to concern himself with a widowed stepmother his own age that he barely knows. And Macleod has only to learn who Rob is to be content."

"If I'm still amongst the living," Rob said with a frown. "Whatever Fife may be up to, Henry, we must act speedily on the other matter we've discussed."

Adela looked from one man to the other, then said stiffly, "If it is something you cannot discuss with me, sir, pray send me away. To speak so in front of me suggests that you do not trust me. I thought you did. I thought—"

"Enough, lass," Rob said. "We cannot discuss it here in the hall, but in troth there are subjects that I cannot discuss with you. I told you so. Recall that I said—"

"Not here, Rob," Henry said. "Let us adjourn to the wee chamber Hugo uses here to deal with accounts and such. It'll be snug, but no one will overhear us there."

"Aye, sure, but I did promise my lady that I would show her Hawthornden," Rob said, looking warily now at Adela.

As well he might, she thought, wondering at herself yet again. She was as willing to do battle with him now as she had been with Sorcha or her other sisters. She did not feel the need even to be tactful with him, except as a matter of civility—for as long as civility between them might last. The thought of fighting with him having somehow become stimulating rather than frightening, she eyed him grimly, unfazed by his own narrowing, suddenly stern gaze.

Henry, watching, said provocatively, "I believe Adela should come with us."

"Henry!" Rob shot an astonished look at him.

"The wee chamber, Robert," Henry said with a smile. "We'll have that chat first, and then we'll take her round the place together."

Adela turned to her husband, saw the grim look return to his face, and lifted her chin. When Henry indicated that she should precede them, she smiled at him.

Feeling his temper rise again as he followed Henry and Adela, Rob reminded himself that his anger was his own to control, that he need only exert himself, and that doubtless Henry was testing him.

Surely, Henry did not intend to reveal any secrets of the Order to Adela. Not, he assured himself, that his lass was not trustworthy, because she was—as trustworthy as any person could be. He simply was not a man who believed in sharing true secrets with anyone. If one got lazy, it became too easy to share them inadvertently even if one had never before been in the habit of sharing them at all.

Emotions entered too easily into such matters. And sometimes plain, ordinary conversation wandered into territory rife with pitfalls for the unwary.

The devil of it was not only that she knew the secrets existed but that she had seen evidence of at least two of them. Although Waldron apparently had not mentioned the Templars to her, he had told her he sought the treasure they guarded to "return it to Holy Kirk." And Rob himself had handed her his map. So she could put much together with what she already knew. That thought gave him pause as he followed the other two up the winding stairway to the cell-like chamber where Hugo kept his Hawthornden accounts.

By the time he entered the chamber, Henry had perched himself on Hugo's stool by the table that filled most of the room and Adela had moved into the corner farthest from the door. He listened to be sure no one else was in the stairwell, then shut the door behind him.

"Well?" Henry said, raising his eyebrows.

"You're right, I suppose," Rob said, noting the flash of surprise on Adela's face. He saw something else, too, relief and something warmer—mayhap gratitude. "I don't like it, though," he added almost curtly, still looking at her. "The more who share a secret the more likely it is that it will cease to be a secret."

"Aye, but you realize that two of her sisters already know," Henry said. "Moreover, it is nearly impossible to keep such things from someone who lives with you and comes to know your every thought and mood. But being able to trust that person is an excellent thing, something to strive for in a marriage, not to fight against. And, too …" Henry paused, looking at Adela.

She gazed solemnly back. When his gaze shifted to Rob, hers followed. Rob said, "He's reminding me that you already know more than you should."

"Do I?" she said, regarding him intently.

Henry said, "I have found the Macleod sisters to be both intelligent and persistent. She will learn more on her own, and sooner rather than later."

"And she might give something away without knowing the dangers that exist." Rob sighed. "I'd already decided to show her Hawthornden and ways to protect herself here. I own, I'd like to tell her more about my grandfather, too, and show her where he and his cronies hid in the old days. That could easily lead to trouble if she does not comprehend why she must keep silent about it."

"I wish you would both stop talking about me as if I were not here," Adela said tartly. "Does all this talk relate to the map you found at Lestalric, Robert?"

"Aye," Rob said, wondering how she'd guessed it was a map and wishing she would not call him Robert. People only did so when they were vexed with him. "Did you find what you sought at Roslin, Henry?"

"I did," Henry said, reaching into his doublet and extracting a rolled piece of vellum that looked much like Rob's own. "Do you still have yours with you?"

"In my boot," Rob said, bending to tug off the right one.

As he put his boot back on, Henry spread his own portion on the table and held it until Rob had done likewise. The curvy edges of the two fit together neatly.

"What do you think?" Henry asked doubtfully. "It seems to be little more than a webbing of lines and symbols."

Adela moved closer to help hold the two pieces in place and saw that Henry was right. If it was a map, it was the oddest she had ever seen, because it looked like a child's drawing with lines going every which way. The only recognizable bits were symbols, two that looked like plant sprigs—one with a flower, one without—a sword, an arrow pointing north, and other less easily identifiable things.

"What are those?" she asked, pointing to the two plants.

As one, Rob said, "Furze," and Henry said, "Whin."

"They look similar but for the flower on Henry's half," she said.

"Aye," Henry said. "'Tis the same plant. Whin is the Norse word for furze."

"Both are nobbut plain gorse," Rob said. "The flowered one on Henry's is the way my grandfather drew our heraldic plant badge."

"The one on Rob's is how my great-grandfather drew whin," Henry said.

Adela frowned. "Was that so each would know who had the other half?"

"Who can tell?" Rob said. "Sithee, one rarely sees them as symbols. I only told Henry about mine because …" He stopped, grimaced, and looked at Henry.

"Because he kens fine that I have a strong interest in maps and have recently come into possession of a good many old ones," Henry said.

Adela caught his gaze and held it. "So, once again, we come to the treasure."

Rob watched Henry to see how he would react to that too-wise gaze of hers, but Henry just smiled lazily. "Aye," he said. "We do."

Still uncomfortable with the broader topic, Rob said, "This map has nowt to do with treasure, lass, and we can sort out that tale between us two another time. For now, it is more important to learn where this map will take us."

"But don't you know what lies hidden?"

"Nay, but I have been thinking about that," he said.

"Speculation does less good than discovering where the map takes us and seeing with our own eyes what we find there," Henry said.

Forestalling Adela's next question, knowing she would ask what he expected the map to reveal, Rob said, "The one place we know to which both our families have a strong connection is Hawthornden."

"It was part of the original barony awarded to my ancestor Sir William Sinclair when he arrived in Britain with the Conqueror," Henry said.

"Then later, during the English invasion of 1335," Rob went on, "my grandfather and others who refused to submit to Edward III took shelter in caves hereabouts and raided English supplies until we sent all the English home again. So we suspect the map refers to something hidden here or hereabouts."

Adela had been studying the tangle of lines on the map as he spoke. Without looking up, she said, "Then could these lines indicate a route from cave to cave, or are most of them huge caverns like the one near the upper end of Roslin Glen?"

The silence that followed made her look up, first at Rob, then Henry.

Rob looked pensive, but Henry met her gaze with his usual lazy smile. "How much do you remember about that place?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. "I couldn't find it if I tried," she said. "I was frightened when we went in because it was so black inside, but Sorcha found a torch and lit it. We were in a passageway that soon opened into an immense cavern. I remember the lake, but not much that happened after that."

"That isn't important now, in any event," Rob said. "That cavern you saw is one of hundreds that litter this area, but most are much smaller. Only Wallace's cave is well known, because William Wallace once hid there. Others are known to a few, and doubtless others lie undiscovered. But we'll all have to give some thought to this map, so come now, and we'll look round the castle. We can start here and show you everything from its ramparts to its pit."

Adela was annoyed that he was still clearly determined to say as little as possible, despite Henry's willingness to be more candid. But she kept her irritation to herself if only because seeing the whole castle would tell her exactly what needed doing to put the place in order. True to their word, Henry and Rob showed her every chamber from the crenellated ramparts down to the great chamber below the cliff top where, eyes twinkling, they pointed out the sally port to her.

Rob opened the wooden door, stepped aside, and said, "Have a look, lass."

Disoriented from descending the spiral stairway, she was amazed to see that the sally port opened onto the cliff face. They were a dozen feet below the clifftop, and even had they been able to climb up, they were right below the sheer keep wall.

"What use is it?" she asked. "There is no trail up or down. And one would have to be a fool to leap from here down to the river."

"That rope coiled on the wall beside it is tied to the iron ring it hangs on, and the ring is driven into the stone," Rob said. "One heaves the whole coil out, then slides down to the water. 'Tis only for emergencies, of course, enemies within or a siege. I doubt anyone has used it except lads testing its strength and wanting a swim. But you should know of it in the event you ever need such knowledge."

"Those caverns you mentioned, can one reach them from here?"

He nodded. "Some of them. The way down lies yonder, beyond the pit."

She shuddered as they passed the pit, the entrance to which was no more than a rough hole in the wall barely wide enough to admit a man's shoulders. The other side was deep and sheer. Once inside, the only way out would be if someone threw a rope down and the prisoner were still strong enough to climb out.

The door Rob opened was set into the rock wall. Before he pulled it open, she had seen no indication of its presence. It swung open silently and with apparent ease. In the meantime, Henry lit a torch. Handing a second, unlighted one to Rob, he led the way with his into the narrow passageway beyond the door.

The air there was dank and still, and Adela found nothing appealing about it. Before they had gone far, she was longing for fresh air and sunshine.

After a while, a second passageway split away to the right from the first one.

"What do you think, Henry?" Rob asked.

"I've not been down here in years, Rob. Did you explore at all when you were here before?"

Rob nodded. "I did take a look whilst I was recovering after Waldron's arrow got me," he said. "It was my first time alone inside this castle. So, although I was under Hugo's orders to do naught but rest, it seemed a good opportunity to see if I could learn more about my grandfather's time here."

"And?"

"Well, I learned nowt to say this is the area to which the map refers," he said. "But I didn't have the map, and I saw nowt to say this is not the right place, either."

"If the square drawn north—or what looks to be north—of the tangle of lines is supposed to be Hawthornden, we should follow the right-hand passage," Henry said. "That is, if we're meant to follow my half to start, and if the line that seems to lead to the sword is the one we want to follow. Most of the symbols seem randomly placed, but the sword stands out and it does mark the end of a line."

"Sakes, Henry," Rob said. "If neither of us knows what we're doing down here, we ought to study the map more closely before we start wandering about. We may need to await Hugo's return. He must know these tunnels better than we do."

"But if he knows them so well," Adela said thought-fully, "would he not long since have found what you seek?"

"Aye, sure, if he'd had cause to look for it," Rob said. "But I'll wager whatever it is lies well hidden unless one knows the approximate place of concealment and how to recognize some sign of its presence."

"Aye," Henry agreed, smiling. "We'll have to tell you about when Mich—"

"Later," Rob said. "For now, we should return and plan more carefully how to go about this search. If we can find it quickly, well and good. Otherwise, we'll await Hugo's return."

"But what about Fife? If he comes …" Henry left the rest for them to fill in.

"We'll just have to deal with him if he does," Rob said. "But these passages twist and turn about on one another like a devilish maze. If we keep going without any clear understanding of our path, we could wander for days."

Just the thought sent a chill up Adela's spine, and she was glad when Henry agreed to return to the castle. Once there, he insisted that he and Rob each make a fair copy of the whole map.

"If we conceal the original bits as before and study the copies, we can cast them on the nearest fire if need be."

Rob agreed, and Adela left them in Hugo's chamber to attend to that task and went back to the bedchamber she shared with Rob to tidy herself.

Copying their maps was quickly done and proved useful, because there did seem to be a clear path to the sword on Rob's half from the square they were hoping was Hawthornden on Henry's half. Following that course underground by torchlight might prove to be another matter, though, Rob thought.

Bidding farewell to Henry with a promise to meet again on the morrow after both had studied their copies, Rob went in search of Adela and found her standing at the window in their bedchamber, looking out on the western view.

She turned when he entered and said, "Did you ask Henry to stay to supper?"

"Aye, but he wanted to get back, doubtless to put away his maps and tidy himself. I certainly need a wash," he added, moving to pour water into the basin.

"Tell me more about your grandfather," she said.

Willingly, he related several tales of his grandfather's raids on the English, the last of which made her laugh aloud. When she did, he hugged her, and matters progressed satisfactorily for them both from that point.

Afterward, he showed her the copy he had made of the map, and they studied it together but decided at last that, without clearer landmarks, the task of following such a map was going to prove nearly impossible.

The next day when Henry returned while they were breaking their fast in the great hall, Rob suggested warily that the two men might explore more ground together in less time than the three of them would together.

Adela's lips tightened but she said nothing. Henry, perusing the platters and bowls on the table, ignored the porridge and helped himself to a manchet loaf, a mug of ale, and one of three mutton cutlets on a platter. He, too, said not a word.

"What is it, lass?" Rob asked, knowing full well but hoping she would tell him it was nothing and urge them to go without her.

Instead, and without any regard for Henry's presence, she stood to face him and said angrily, "What is it? You know perfectly well what it is, my lord."

His own temper stirred. "Do I?"

"Aye, sure you do!"

Henry ate placidly, as if he were alone.

Knowing he had overreacted, Rob said more gently, "Adela, lass, this is—"

"Don't ‘Adela, lass' me," she retorted. "One minute you pretend to trust me, the next you want only to keep your precious secrets from me. I vow, sir, I should find it easier if you told me nothing at all."

"Aye, well, mayhap I should," he snapped. "Recall that you are my wife and owe me obedience, madam. I'll decide what I will tell you and what I will not. In the meantime, since you yearn to set this castle to rights, you may start today."

"May I, indeed?" she demanded furiously, leaning toward him, hands on her hips. "Then you won't mind if I begin right here!" So saying, she snatched up the bowl still half full of porridge and heaved it at him, following even as he ducked the bowl by heaving a platter after it that still contained two cutlets.

"Here now," Henry protested. "That's very good mutton."

"Leave us, Henry," Rob ordered.

Henry raised his eyebrows. "Sakes, Rob, I own this place."

"Then we'll leave you to your food. I would speak privately with my wife."

"You do that," Henry advised. "Then find out what your people have done to this mutton. I like it very much."

"'Tis no more than rosemary cast on the fire as it cooks, sir," Adela said.

"Never mind that," Rob snarled. "You come with me."

Adela followed him from the hall, filled with remorse. He had provoked her, to be sure, but she had been wrong to throw things. She could only be grateful that neither the bowl nor the platter had struck him. He did have a splatter of porridge and a spot on his jerkin that looked like grease from the mutton, however.

Doubtless she deserved whatever he meant to do to her, and she was sure that this time, he would not be laughing when they reached their bedchamber.

He stopped on the landing outside its door and turned to face her. His expression was solemn. "You should not have done that."

"No, sir, but you must decide if you can trust me or not. As it is, I never know what to expect, and my anger has increased bit by bit until …"

"I know it is difficult," he said when she paused. "But some matters are more important than others, more secret, and the trouble is that they all connect in some way or other. It is like pulling a thread and having the whole garment unravel."

"You say that, but Henry clearly thinks I should know more than I do." "I am not Henry. And I don't like things thrown at my head."

"I am sorry for that," she said sincerely. "I did not know I would throw those things until I did. Truly, I have done such a thing only once before in my life, and I am not proud of it. It was a dreadful thing to have done."

He put a hand to her shoulder and pulled her closer, kissing her lightly on the lips. Then he said, "I'll forgive you, I expect, but don't do it again."

Relieved, she said, "Then I may go with you?"

"Nay, sweetheart, this time we'll go alone. We don't know what we'll find, and I'll worry less about you if you are here, safe. I'll tell you if we find anything."

Knowing he was punishing her and aware that she deserved punishment, she nodded. She could do nothing in any event to change his mind.