Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Rob stood beside Henry and looked skeptically up the steep north slope of what at best he'd have defined as a lushly verdant, narrow, quarter-mile slice into the west bank of the river North Esk's gorge. From the top of the glen's innermost point spilled what Henry insisted must be Adela's waterfall, if indeed the symbol she had pointed out was meant to be one.

"It is still spring, Henry," Rob protested. "If this thin rivulet is as heavy as it gets, I don't see how—"

"Don't scoff," Henry said. "I have seen it tumbling, sending froth and spray into the air. And, more to the point, this flow never dries up. That of any other likely nearby stream does. Just look at those great slabs of rock yonder, too. If I wanted to conceal a cavern entrance …"

Rob saw what he meant. The three slabs, all taller than he and Henry, stood upright, looking at first glance as if precariously balanced. But closer examination revealed that all three stood solidly unmovable. They would need the shovels and other equipment they'd brought.

They had left the horses on the narrow fishermen's track along the west bank of the river, and had walked into the trackless glen, following its barely noticeable watercourse. Had Henry not known where to go, Rob doubted he would have found the place for days. Trees near its opening formed a canopy thick enough to obscure the size and depth of the glen, and dense shrubbery clustered at the base of the trees. Thus, the whole looked and smelled like an ordinary patch of damp, herbal-scented woodland. The western side of the gorge was not as steep or as sheer as the eastern side, but it was still impressively precipitous.

As Rob stood frowning at the three rock slabs, Henry chuckled. "Sakes," he said, "did you expect them to topple at your touch? If your grandfather helped hide something here, it was forty to forty-five years ago, when he and his friends were capering about, harrying unsuspecting English invaders. Anything so easily tipped would be lying flat by now, the hiding place revealed to anyone who looked here."

"Aye," Rob said absently, still eyeing the rocks speculatively.

"I did not ask before what you think lies hidden here, knowing how you feel about secrets," Henry said. "But unless you think you can send me away if we do find an opening here, you may as well confide your thoughts to me now."

Rob had realized that he must do so and had been expecting the request if not an outright command. Nevertheless, still fearing his suspicion was wishful thinking, he told Henry only what he had told Adela about the long-ago confrontation at Lestalric. But Henry was as quick as she had been to follow his thinking.

"Sakes," he exclaimed, "you cannot believe the Stone has been sitting here ever since Edward I invaded Scotland!"

"Nay, but I do think they might have moved it here later," Rob said. "The likeliest time would have been during the 1335 invasion, when they realized Edward's grandson meant to try again to conquer Scotland and find the real Stone."

"So you believe Edward I knew he had the wrong one."

"Aye," Rob said. "Why return and take Scone Abbey apart if he did not? Doubtless loyalists expected more such depredations when Edward III came."

"Would it not have been foolish to move the Stone right into his path?"

"'Twas scarcely in his path here in the gorge," Rob protested. "The road to Edinburgh from the Borders lies miles east of here, through Selkirk."

"But just to bring the Stone south of the Firth would have been foolish."

"Without knowing the circumstances, who can judge anything as foolish?"

While they continued this mild debate, Rob began examining the edges of the three slabs closely, brushing dirt away from the central stone that seemed to hold the others in place. Dirt clogged all the crevices, and plants had taken root.

"I'll fetch the shovels," he said.

"I'll go with you, because we might as well bring the torches and ropes, too," Henry said. "We may need them, and I'd as lief no curious fisherman wonder why our ponies carry shovels and torch sticks, be they ever so well disguised."

Since the only disguise was plain canvas wrapping, Rob agreed that the sooner the implements were out of sight, the better. Silently, he followed Henry along the narrow, barely trickling stream bed they had used before. Both men wore daggers and carried their swords in scabbards on belts slung across their backs.

A quarter-hour later they returned, and ten minutes after that, Rob said, "Look here, Henry. I think this must be a hand grip of some sort along this side."

Making an effort to appear undisturbed by the calculating way the Earl of Fife looked at her, Adela said in surprise to de Gredin, "Did we not hear that you had suffered grievous injury, sir?"

"In troth, my lady, I thought myself sped to God's waiting arms," he said.

"He's fortunate to have recovered quickly," Fife said. "Where is Lestalric?"

"Surely, the men on the gate told you he is at Roslin, my lord."

"They said as much, to be sure. But if you ken the news from Edinburgh, I'll wager he does, too. He must know he will have to answer for his crime."

"What crime?"

"Sakes, woman, you must know he's the one who attacked de Gredin, doubtless out of jealousy for his attentions to you, and your unseemly flirtation with him. I fear you'll find that women of your ilk are not welcome in the royal burgh."

"Women of my ilk?"

Hearing the chill in her voice, she reminded herself to tread lightly. She had strapped her new dirk in its sheath to her leg, but it could not help her against Fife. Striving for calm, she said, "I know not what you mean by such words, sir."

He sneered. "Do you not? How, then, do you come to be living here with Lestalric? Or am I mistaken, and does some other lady—an older kinswoman of yours, perhaps—reside here with the two of you?"

He terrified her, yet she could still think clearly. It occurred to her as she was about to tell him she and Rob had married that it might be wiser to affect blank, innocent astonishment instead, especially with de Gredin there. If the chevalier cared for her, he might prove more useful if he did not learn his cause was hopeless.

So, instead of uttering the words that sprang to her lips, she widened her eyes and said, "No other female is here save a pair of maidservants, my lord. Do you think I require a chaperone whilst in your presence?"

Hearing a hastily muffled sound, she suspected she had tickled de Gredin's sense of humor but hoped he would not display it to the earl. She doubted that Fife had a sense of humor.

He said, "Don't be impertinent, lass. When do you expect Lestalric's return?"

"Mercy, it is not for me to expect him, sir. He will return when he returns and no earlier. He may arrive at any moment, but if you want to see him sooner, you should ride toward Roslin and meet him on the way."

"I warrant we'll see him soon enough," Fife said. "Meantime, I must ask you to ride back to town with us."

A chill shot up her spine, but she managed to retain the blank look, hoping he would think her witless. "I … I do not understand, sir. Why should I ride anywhere with you? Indeed, how can you expect such a thing?"

"Do you forget so quickly, lass, the accusations laid against you? You ought to remember them, particularly as your dear Lestalric even suggested he might consider marrying you because of them. As if a wedding could save you," he added snidely. "That he later realized he had no need to sacrifice himself to enjoy your evident charms must have been a grave disappointment."

"I do not understand what you are saying," Adela said, although she did indeed understand and burned with anger at the insult. But she had learned much about concealing her feelings during years of managing her father's household, and even more during her abduction. Although she hid her anger, she knew she could not continue to pretend she did not know he thought them as yet unmarried.

"What do you not understand?" he asked with another sneer.

With calm civility, she said, "I don't understand how you came to think that Sir Robert and I did not marry."

For the first time since his entrance, he hesitated. But then his eyes narrowed and he said, "Don't try to cozen me, lass. Lestalric would never be so foolish as to wed a woman about to hang for murder."

A scream of fury welled up in her but she stifled it ruthlessly to say, "Again you mistake me for another sort of woman, sir. I have killed no one."

"Do you deny that Lord Ardelve died of poisoning?"

"I do not know if he was poisoned or not," she said honestly. "He collapsed against Countess Isabella after sipping wine. He and I were both in plain view of the entire company from the time we entered the hall. I gave him naught, nor poured his wine. Gillies served us."

"What about the time you spent with him in the ladies' solar, alone?"

"Faith, my lord," she said, nettled and not caring if he detected her displeasure now. "Did you set spies to watch me my whole wedding day?"

"Don't challenge me. I set no spies, but I did hear from those who were there that they saw you go into the solar with him and stay for some time. They likewise reported that you showed none of the joy of a bride when you returned. As Ardelve likewise remained stoic, the rumors of his anger over the unfortunate result of your abduction must be true."

"I fear your informants are merely evil-minded men, sir."

"Nonetheless, you will come with us now for questioning. Lestalric can follow as he will and answer to the King's justice when he does."

"Faith, if you believe we never married, what makes you think he'll follow?"

"I don't care if he does. I can hang him and forfeit his so-called claim to the Lestalric barony without having to prove that he conspired with you in Ardelve's murder or that he tried to kill de Gredin. The fact is that I mean to question you, Lady Adela, most thoroughly, about several subjects. Ardelve is the least of them. And to that end, by the King's royal command, I declare that you are under arrest."

Another chill flew up her spine, and she knew she dared not let herself guess what his methods of thoroughly questioning a woman might entail. Straightening her shoulders and taking a measure of reassurance from the dirk under her skirts, but more from her own unusual lack of budding panic, she said, "If you act at the King's command, sir, I shall naturally obey. Doubtless, before we depart, you will let me fetch my cloak … and visit the…the…"

Satisfied to feel heat in her cheeks and know she was blushing, she paused.

Fife frowned, but when de Gredin said with a touch of impatience, "Mon Dieu, my lord, if you desire me to accompany her …"

Fife shook his head. "I have a hundred men at the gate, lass, so there is no way for you to escape. You would be unwise, nonetheless, to keep me waiting."

"Thank you, my lord. One appreciates your chivalry," she said with the same wide-eyed look she had assumed before.

He nodded regally and stood aside to let her pass him and go up the stairs.

As soon as she rounded the first corner, she picked up her skirts and ran lightly to the next floor, then across it as fast as she could go, to the narrow service stairs in the northwest corner. From there, she hurried down to the lowest level.

Racing to the sally port, she unbarred it and heaved it open. Ignoring the wave of dizziness that struck when she looked out, she struggled to lift the heavy coil of rope from its place on the wall and, moving carefully but listening for any sound on the stairs, she put it on the floor and shoved it out the door.

Standing again, she held onto the door frame and looked out to see that the rope easily reached the river. But the water was flowing swiftly, its strong current pulling the rope end with it. If she lost her grip and fell, she would be swept along in that current. At the thought, the dizziness struck again in a wave that made her grip the door frame harder. Shutting her eyes to the view, she drew a long, deep breath and stepped back to recover her equilibrium.

Easing her way back without looking down, she gripped the rope in her right hand, trying to imagine stepping out and climbing—or, more likely, sliding—down to the river. Doubtless, its water was still nearly as icy cold as in winter.

If by a miracle she succeeded, she would be no more than a fish on the end of a line for Fife to pull up when he looked out and saw her. The notion of letting go and trying to swim out of that roiling current terrified her.

No matter how firmly she reminded herself that she could swim, or told herself that she could do it, the rope was rough and uncomfortable to hold. She had never swum with her clothes on, and she was as certain as she could be that she was not strong enough to reach either shore. She would drown, but she had to try.

Henry having proved skeptical to the notion that Rob had found any handle, the two men labored to clear the three tall rock slabs of accumulated earth and plant life. At last, Rob dug in his shovel into the dirt in front of the central one to see how far they would have to dig to clear away all the dirt in front of the slab. Less than four inches down, its base came into sight, surprisingly straight across.

He looked at Henry and silently raised his eyebrows.

"Sakes," Henry said, stepping closer and bending with his hands on his knees to peer more closely at it. "That looks like masonry underneath it."

Rob nodded. "I think we've found what we were seeking."

"Before we shout our triumph, let's see if we can move that thing."

"I told Adela I'd fetch her if we found an entrance near the waterfall."

"Aye, sure, but we'd best keep working until we know we've found that entrance," Henry said. "Recall that I must meet my ship tomorrow. I'm damned if I'll go without knowing what lies here, so at least, let's find out if we can move that rock before we fetch your lass."

"Aye, sure," Rob agreed. "In any event, with the water running so high and so fast, we'll have to go back to the bridge to cross. A pity, too, since we're nobbut minutes away if we could just swim the horses across."

Henry picked up his shovel and the two cleared the rest of the dirt from the base of the slab. Then, they examined Rob's hand grip on the right side again.

He pulled on it hard with both hands, noting that the exercise had stirred the pain in his left shoulder to life again.

"Mayhap it has a hidden latch like the ones in the cavern," Henry said.

Rob was already searching with his fingertips down that side. At the bottom, where they had cleared the dirt from the base, some still concealed the lowest couple of inches on the side. Feeling his way, using his fingers to dig away the dirt, he said, "I can feel a stone wedge here, I think, like the wooden one at Lestalric."

Taking his dirk from its sheath, he scraped still clinging dirt from the edge of the slab until he had cleared the wedge and was able to remove it.

Rising, he grabbed the edge of the stone again and pulled.

Henry moved next to him to help. "It's moving," he said.

"Wait," Rob said. "Someone's coming!"

Hastily, they pushed the slab back and began kicking dirt in front of it, only to stop when they heard Michael's voice, calling Rob's name.

"Here," Rob shouted over the noise of the river, adding anxiously when Michael came into view, "What's amiss?"

"Fife," Michael said curtly. "My lads tell me he's at Hawthornden by now, with a fighting tail of at least a hundred men."

"I told them to send him to Roslin if he came," Rob said.

"Aye, well, he's had plenty of time to ride there if he was going to, but I'd have heard from others if he had been headed our way. Henry, your people in Edinburgh must have missed his departure. A pair of my own lads saw him a mile east of Polton village, making for Hawthornden, and rode to warn me."

"Sakes, my men should have ridden hard to tell us if he rode anywhere south of Edinburgh," Henry said angrily.

"Don't blame them until we learn that he did not head elsewhere first," Michael said. "He's a sly one, is Fife. He would soon realize it if your lads were trying to follow him everywhere he went."

Henry still frowned, but Rob said urgently, "We must go. Adela is at Hawthornden, and if Fife did not ride on to Roslin, she's in great danger."

"Aye," Michael agreed as the three gathered up the tools and hurried to the horses. "I ordered our lads to assemble at Roslin. They'll be ready when I return."

"How many?" Henry demanded tersely.

"Nearly four score at the castle," Michael said. "I sent men out to collect more and told them to meet us on the way or to follow as soon as they can."

Rob had a sudden, chilling thought. "We showed Adela the sally port."

"No lass would try to escape that way," Henry said bluntly. "Sakes, she would never escape Fife's clutches if he's managed to get inside the castle."

"A Macleod lass might do both," Michael said with the voice of experience.

Rob nodded. "Adela may try, but I doubt she can hold onto that rope. It's thick and rough. Her hands are small and, I think, too delicate to grip it hard enough. Moreover, I don't even know if she can swim. But if she can—"

"Aye," Michael said. "She might think she has no choice."

"Henry, you come with me," Rob said when they reached the horses. "Michael, collect your men and ride to Hawthornden as fast as you can. Do all you can to suggest a greater force than you have, because you've got to divert Fife's attention in case she's still inside with him when you get there."

"What will you and Henry do?"

"We're going to find my lass if she's fallen in the river," Rob said, his gut clenching as he said the words. "If we see no sign that she made it to the sally port, we'll get to the top of the cliff any way we can. Don't forget to bring those ropes, Henry," he added when he saw him pushing their shovels, torches, and the canvas wrappings under a bush. "We may need them."

The two had not gone far before Henry said, "How the devil are we going to cross this river and get to the top in time to help Michael or anything else?"

"Sakes, Henry, I don't know. But if Adela uses that rope, she won't be able to hang onto it in that swift current. And she can't make landfall on the east side of the river because of those sheer cliffs. Our only hope is if the water sweeps her right onto the west bank. If it does that, she'll be well-nigh drowned and freezing. So, hurry!"

Adela stepped to the open sally port again, hoping her resolve would stiffen more when she grew more accustomed to how far below her the river was.

As she fought another wave of dizziness at just the thought of looking down, she heard running footsteps on the stairs. Knowing it would be suicidal to leap out or try to hold onto the thick rope and climb down it with any speed, she left the door open and ran along the dark passage to the concealed entrance into the caves below.

The notion of being alone in that dank blackness was terrifying, too, but much less so than facing Fife.

But the door would not open. Despite Rob's insistence that he wanted her to know Hawthornden for her own safety, he had not revealed its secret to her. With a sob more of fury than of fear, she crouched in the darkest corner and waited.

Minutes later, she heard de Gredin's voice.

"Sacrebleu!" he exclaimed. "She has escaped!"

Adela shut her eyes tight and prayed.

Fife said coldly, "Don't be an ass. No lass as slight as that one climbed down that rope, certainly not in the clothes she was wearing. In any event, you'd better hope she did not, because if she did, the river has claimed her and you'll have to tell your masters that you've failed. Think what they'll say when you tell them that although you found the woman your cousin abducted and doubtless shared his secrets with, you are unable to produce her or any information extracted from her."

Adela opened her eyes and listened intently, scarcely daring to breathe. Aware of the dirk's sheath against her thigh, she put her hand on it over her skirt, wondering if she dared take the weapon out or could use it if she did.

"It was not I who grew impatient, my lord," de Gredin protested. "Had you not interfered by challenging Lestalric as you did—"

"Be silent," Fife growled. "The one thing we know from this open door is that the lass was here. Before we set my men to searching the whole castle for her, let us first be sure she is not still here. Don't touch that door," he added a moment later. "I want to know where the treasure lies even more than you do. And I'll wager that open door can provide just the incentive the lass will need to tell us all she knows."

Having not the least difficulty deducing what he meant by that, Adela fought another wave of dizziness and pressed hard against the wall, hoping to make herself invisible. The effort was useless, though. She heard them coming, heard them pause near the pit, and then heard Fife's silky voice saying, "Ahhh."

Gathering the dignity she still possessed, she stood and shook out her skirts.

De Gredin, behind Fife, said, "Ah, merci au bon Dieu. One feared you had drowned, madame."

"As you see, I still live," Adela said. To the earl, she said, "I do not suppose you will believe I came here looking for my cloak."

"No," he said. "Doubtless you overheard what my indiscreet friend said a moment ago, too. Don't bother to deny it," he added. "It is no more than a dozen feet from this chamber to the one containing the sally port. Indeed, one wonders what purpose this one serves."

Ignoring the chilling thought that he would somehow guess accurately, Adela shrugged and said, "As I've been here only a few nights, I do not know. But I'd surmise that supplies are stored here when the castle is used regularly."

"Yet you knew where the sally port lies."

"I've been tidying the place," she said. "I looked into every chamber first to see how great a task it would be to set the castle to rights."

Realizing she was talking too much, she stopped.

"Come with me now," Fife said, standing back as if to let her go first. "We're going to have a talk."

As she passed close to him, he grabbed her arm in a viselike grip.

She sighed. "Do you fear I shall run from you again, my lord?"

"You should have heeded me when I told you not to make me wait. But before I hang you, you are going to answer my questions. You'll tell me everything, not just about Ardelve but also about the time you spent with your abductor."

"You may ask anything you like, sir, but I can tell you nothing. Waldron of Edgelaw was an evil man. He did not confide in me."

"She's likely telling the truth, my lord," de Gredin said. "As I told you, Waldron was not a man likely to share secrets with anyone, let alone a woman."

"Yet she would have us believe he did not ravish her," Fife said.

Adela said quietly, "He did not believe in ravishing women. He said that God forbade it. Since he believed that in all other instances God would forgive what he did as long as he served His cause, he took care not to defy Him. I'm told you are a religious man, too, my lord," she added, recalling what the abbot had said.

"What else did Waldron tell you? Did he not tell you he sought something stolen long ago from Holy Kirk and from the Pope? Something he meant to return?"

Adela met his steady gaze. "If he did seek such a thing, sir, he did not find it whilst I was with him. And I don't know where it is."

"That is a pity," Fife said. "But we will see if you are telling the truth."

Tightening his grip, he pushed her toward the open door.

"My lord," de Gredin protested. "You cannot really mean to—"

"Shut your mouth," Fife ordered. "I don't know how your masters can have thought you would be at all useful to them, as lily-livered as you are. I will show you how one extracts information from unwilling subjects."

Casting aside dignity, Adela resisted with all her might. But Fife pushed her inexorably toward the open door and the long drop to the river.

Although she would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream, she dug in her heels until he lifted her off her feet and strode with her to the opening.

"Now then," he said grimly. "Have a look and tell me if you think the drop is worth continuing to conceal what you know of Waldron and what he learned."

"I've told you," she said through still gritted teeth, "he told me nothing. He did not believe, as you seem to, that I had any reason to know about his business."

"My lord, please," de Gredin said. "We've no cause to disbelieve her. She was his prisoner, after all. How likely is it that he told her anything of value?"

"I told you to be silent," Fife snapped. "You'd believe anything she said. She was with him night and day for a fortnight. How likely is it that she learned nothing? We know what he was seeking. Even a hint of where he looked would be useful. So, lass, just begin at the beginning and talk until you've told us everything, or …"

Abruptly, he swung her out through the opening.