Chapter 19

Chapter 19

On the shore opposite the castle, Rob and Henry had seen the dangling rope, the open sally port, and the chevalier de Gredin peering down at the river.

Terrified that Adela had tried to escape by using the rope, Rob was nearly frantic. "I can't lose her, Henry."

"I'm telling you, she did not climb down that rope. Think, lad! I ken fine that you scarcely know the lass—"

"I know her as I know myself," Rob snapped. "I don't know why that is, I just know it. I've known it since my first moment with her."

Henry looked at him without speaking.

The echo of his own words reverberated through Rob's mind then, and he began to relax. "You're right," he said. "I've been comparing her to Isobel and Sorcha, thinking she would act as impulsively as they do. But she doesn't. She thinks first. I've got to get across the river, Henry. Fetch those ropes."

They had to move upriver a short distance, and even as they tied the ropes together and wrapped one end around a stout tree, Henry remained skeptical. "You'll have to swim hard," he said. "What about your shoulder? Will it serve?"

"It will have to," Rob said, tightening his sword belt across his chest and adjusting the sword snugly in its scabbard on his back so the crossbar on its hilt would keep as much water out as possible. "Sakes, I nearly forgot," he said, pulling off his boot to extract his half of the map. "Keep this for me," he said, handing it to Henry. "And for the love of God don't get caught with it."

Pulling off the other boot, he tossed them both aside then sent his leather jerkin after them. Making a noose, he slipped the rope over his shoulders, and with Henry holding the coil of rope to play out as he swam, he plunged into the river and began to stroke hard for the opposite shore. The water was so icy that it was hard at first to breathe, but at least it numbed the pain in his shoulder.

He came in sight of the sally port just in time to see the Earl of Fife about to throw Adela into the river.

Screaming as Fife swung her out over the river, Adela grabbed him around the neck, hoping to carry him with her if he dropped her. But he did not let go.

By the time she realized that he still held her, de Gredin had grabbed him and was trying to pull him away from the opening.

"My lord, don't be a fool! If you throw her out, we'll learn nothing."

"Let go of me," Fife snapped.

"I beg your pardon," de Gredin said, jerking his hand away. "I have spent much time in France, my lord. In France, they do not threaten women."

"Then go back to France. You are of small use to me, God knows."

Fife turned back toward the doorway, but Adela had had enough. Grabbing his nearly shoulder-length dark hair, she held on tight, wrapping it around her fist and pulling hard. "Put me down, sir, at once!"

"Damnation!" he yelled, dropping her to her feet and angrily reaching to make her release her grip on his hair. His hand clamped hard on hers.

Adela brought her knee up as hard as she could.

Clearly recognizing her intent, he deflected her aim enough to prevent dire consequences to his manhood, but he grunted nonetheless and released his grip.

As she stepped back, however, his free hand swept up and struck her face hard, knocking her toward the open doorway. Terrified that her own momentum would carry her out, she twisted wildly and crashed to the floor.

Fife lunged toward her, but again de Gredin leaped to her defense, catching the earl by an arm.

As Fife turned to strike the younger man, Adela saw that the rope in the doorway had strained tight and was twitching. Without thought for her own safety, she scrambled to her feet and rushed toward the two struggling men.

Another blow from Fife sent her sprawling again, but this time she managed to fall as far from the doorway as possible, landing near the entrance to the pit passage. Leaping to her feet again, she hitched up her skirts and pulled her dirk from its sheath. Straightening, she took a breath to steady herself and held the dirk in a fold of her skirt.

As she did, Fife felled de Gredin near the stairs with a mighty blow, and the chevalier lay on the stone floor where he had landed, unmoving.

"Mercy, have you killed him?"

"Who cares?" Fife said, brushing his hands on his breeks as if to wipe the dust of de Gredin from them. "You have more to answer for now, my lass."

"I am not your lass, sir," she said with dignity, watching his eyes and not looking toward the still twitching, straining rope as she took a step away from him.

"Stay where you are," he said. "You know there is no escape. You have resisted rightful arrest, which in itself is a hanging crime."

"Is it?" She took another step back.

He glanced at de Gredin's still body, then at her. "I should think you'd want to soothe my temper, lass, and evidence suggests that you know ways to do that," he said. "I'll wager Waldron taught you many. If not, surely Lestalric has taught you a few. But if they failed to do so, I'll teach you myself, if not now then when you've told me all I want to know about the treasure and—"

"Treasure! What treasure?"

"That is what you are going to tell me. You will also tell me if Lestalric is hiding the same thing Waldron sought or something more valuable."

"You talk in riddles. What could be worth more than treasure?"

"Mayhap something that will gain me the Scottish crown if I find it."

She still watched his eyes, determined to hold his attention. "How could anything do that?"

"We waste time," he said, and at last, he moved toward her.

Gripping the dirk, she took another step back. She had no idea if the rope still twitched, for she dared not look away from his evil eyes. Logic, and what she had seen of the roiling river below, told her she would have to defend herself. But she had stopped him once. Mayhap, this time, she could stop him permanently.

Rob heard Fife's words and saw the situation at a glance as he eased himself up the last few inches to peek over the sill of the sally port. If Fife turned or Adela saw him, he would be finished. But if Fife continued to concentrate on Adela, and if de Gredin stayed quietly where he was, he might slip in before Fife saw him.

Because the rope was anchored well up on the wall by the door, climbing over the threshold was no more difficult than climbing up in the first place had been, but he was wet and cold, his muscles resistant to commands from his brain. His fingers, numbed by the icy river water, had made the initial few minutes of his climb more treacherous in their own way than the last ones would be. His clothing was still wet, his body still chilled, but his fingers, hands, and legs would obey him.

His shoulder, surprisingly, scarcely bothered him. He knew the arrow had to have damaged muscle, but he had not noticed any pain as he climbed the rope. He had thought only of getting to Adela, and would have climbed the damned rope with one arm if he'd had to. He gave some credit to the countess's willow bark decoction and her salve, but for the rest, he thanked the Fates.

Adela's right hand twitched where she held it in a fold of her skirt. Knowing instantly what she held, he felt new terror. If she dared to threaten Fife with her wee blade, he would wrest it from her and use it against her if only to teach her a lesson.

And if that happened, Rob would never forgive himself.

As Fife took another step toward her, stalking her now as a beast might stalk its prey, Adela gripped the leather-wrapped hilt of her dirk tighter and backed up step by step. She knew instinctively that he enjoyed the hunt.

"Give me the blade, lassie," he said.

Shivering at his tone, she realized that her movements must have revealed what she held. Still, she said with forced calm, "I prefer to keep it."

"I'm sure you do, but I think I shall enjoy taking it from you, then using it to teach you obedience to my commands."

"If you want to use a blade, Fife, try your own—on me."

Fife whirled, and Adela gave a sigh of relief, recognizing Rob's voice. But as Fife moved, she caught sight of her husband's face, and the fury she saw there sent fresh waves of fear through her body.

It had been one thing to have a vague understanding of what might happen to her if she were to stab one of the King's sons. But she had known the likelihood was small that she could kill Fife. Not for a moment did she think Rob meant anything other than to cut the earl to pieces— as swiftly as possible.

Fife snatched his sword from its scabbard and leaped forward to engage Rob's blade. Both men used two hands at first to hold their swords, and both swung hard. The sally-port chamber was large enough to allow them to fight, but Adela saw that it left little room for maneuvering.

And the sally port, with its hundred-foot drop to the river, remained open.

Fife lunged, Rob deflected his blade, and the momentum of their thrusts carried each man past the other. As they turned, she realized Rob was barefoot and wore only his shirt. He had taken off his protective heavy leather jack to swim.

Rob faced the open door now. Fife faced Adela.

Looking straight into the earl's eyes, she lifted her skirt and replaced the dirk in its sheath. When Fife's eyes widened, Rob lunged.

Fife seemed to hesitate. But at the last minute, he stepped aside, raised his sword high, and slashed down as Rob's lunge carried him forward.

Adela clapped a hand to her mouth.

Rob leaped sideways, and the heavy blade missed by inches.

Snarling, Fife leaped forward again, and again the men changed places.

With Rob facing her, and still fearing he would kill the Stewart prince, Adela backed deeper into the passageway, seeking anything that might serve to distract Fife or make him stumble. She wanted to render him helpless long enough for Rob to recover his temper. His eyes still burned with fury.

She felt along the wall by the pit. But although she found a sconce there, doubtless to hold a torch, it contained nothing and was bolted to the stone wall.

The clanging continued. Turning back to be sure Rob still held his own, she saw de Gredin begin to stir.

Neither of the other two seemed to notice him.

If he were still inclined to side with her, she did not want to give him away. But if he went for Rob …

"So help me," she muttered, "I'll spit the slithersome coof on my dirk."

De Gredin glanced at her. His face showed only relief when their eyes met, so she moved back to that end of the passageway to be near if she could help, and also to keep her eye on the untrustworthy chevalier.

The swordsmen were well matched, which was not reassuring. Fife, being the more treacherous, and dry, would surely hold the edge.

Rob feinted, and when Fife lunged at him, he leaped the other way. Fife's lunge carried him toward the door, but having watched Rob easily avoid that dreadful hazard, Adela felt no surprise when Fife did also, too, pulling himself up well short of the opening.

De Gredin, however, on his feet now, surged forward. With both hands straight out, he slammed into Fife's back.

Off balance, the earl stumbled straight toward the gaping doorway.

Adela cried out, and as she did, Rob leaped to shove the earl hard, spinning him so he staggered headfirst into the wall beside the doorway instead.

Fife's head cracked against the iron ring that anchored the escape rope. He dropped his sword, collapsed without another sound, and lay still.

"Is he dead?" Adela demanded, rushing forward to see.

"Nay, just clouted himself good," Rob said. Picking up Fife's sword and flinging it through the open sally port, he dropped to a knee beside the earl and pointed to the pulse in Fife's throat, saying, "Sithee, it still beats." He looked up at de Gredin. "You might like to disappear before he wakes."

"Aye, sure, I'd like that," de Gredin said frankly. "But I doubt I'd meet with any success if I tried. He has too many men outside, and they all know me."

"Then lie back down," Adela suggested. "I don't think he saw you get up."

De Gredin shook his head. "I've behaved as a scoundrel toward you, my lady. I'll not make it worse by letting so powerful a prince believe you were the one who tried to shove him into eternity."

Adela felt sad for him. She was grateful that he would tell the truth but fearful, despite all he might have done to harm her, of what could happen to him if he did.

To her surprise, Rob said dryly, "Very noble, Chevalier, but I doubt your confession would do us as much good as you may by remaining unconscious. We may well turn that to good account. But first, tell me, did you have aught to do with Ardelve's death or those of my father and brother?"

"Nay, I did not," de Gredin said. "But I cannot prove that, and I do believe Ardelve did not die any more naturally than your kinsmen did. Sithee, Fife had taken strong interest in you, my lady, because I'd told him of Waldron's purpose here. He decided my cousin must have confided in you about what he was seeking. He said if you could tell us nothing else, you could tell us where and how Waldron died."

"You did nowt to harm Ardelve?" Rob's tone remained skeptical.

"I did not, but many guests brought servants, and a horde of gillies were in constant bustle about the high table. I can tell you, too, that my lord Fife was determined to get his hands on Lady Adela before Ardelve took her back to his home. Fife could not seek her there without risking trouble with the Lord of the Isles."

He paused, then said ruefully, "I told him about the solar, my lady, but I never suggested poison. Lord Fife did that and said I could testify to it if the chance arose. He also started those rumors later. I did exaggerate the time you and Ardelve spent in the solar in a regrettable attempt to advance my own cause with Fife. As doubtless you heard him say, the men who trained Waldron and sent him to find the treasure taken from Holy Kirk likewise sent me to discover all I could of what he'd learned. But I lack both Waldron's training and his single-minded sense of purpose. Then, too, I admire you, my lady. Not only are you beautiful and kind but—"

"Enough," Rob growled, his eyes turning flintlike. "Stop whilst you're still alive, Chevalier, and mayhap we will keep you so. What of my father and brother?"

De Gredin grimaced and glanced nervously at Fife. "I know naught of them but what everyone heard," he said. "I do know Fife talked to someone else before me, though. He said I was the second to mention secrets to him in as many weeks."

He glanced again at Fife, who chose that moment to groan.

At hasty gestures from Rob, the chevalier returned swiftly to his erstwhile position on the floor near the stairs and Adela knelt beside the earl.

"Can you tell if you injured him badly, lass?" Rob asked mildly.

Startled, she looked up at him and saw him smile, but the smile was no pleasant one. He had a plan, so she said, "I did not mean to hurt him, sir. I swear it!"

"He will understand that you were only trying to deflect his aim, sweetheart. But mayhap you should run upstairs and fetch some of his men to his side. Just explain to them exactly what happened. We'll face whatever conse—"

"Nay!"

The word came forcefully, although Fife winced as he said it and slowly brought a hand to his brow, already red and bidding fair to show a nasty bruise.

"Let me help you to your feet, my lord earl," Rob said solicitously, placing a hand under Fife's left elbow as the man struggled dizzily to sit up.

Fife shook it off. "I'll help myself. Where's my sword?"

"In the river, I'm afraid," Rob said. "When you stumbled and fell against the wall, you cast it through the sally port. Doubtless we can find you another if you desire to finish our contest. Or we can wait until you feel fit again."

Fife, sitting now, still visibly disoriented, frowned at the floor and muttered as much to himself as to them, "I did not stumble. Someone pushed me."

Glancing at Rob, who gazed steadily back, Adela said in a small voice, "I'm afraid it was I, sir. I thought you were going to kill poor Rob, and … and I threw myself at you to save him. He is my husband, after all, and I care deeply for him." She looked again at Rob, letting him see the truth of those words in her eyes.

Fife, still rubbing his aching head with one hand as he steadied himself with the other, said grimly as he looked up, "Very commendable, I'm sure, madam."

"I agree," Rob said lightly. "You looked ripe for murder, my lord, and considering what effort it took for me to climb that damned rope, I'd expected more respect from you for the effort. Still, my lady wife has explained that you have been laboring under a false belief in some of the worst accusations laid against her. So I can well understand that you might be displeased with us both."

"I suppose you mean to tell me those accusations are all false."

"Aye, sure, for they are. We are certainly married, for which we must both thank you. Had you not terrified the poor lass by making her fear instant arrest, she would never have accepted an offer from such a scapegrace as myself."

"So you are truly married?"

"For nearly a sennight now," Rob said. "The Abbot of Holyrood married us himself, as he will tell you if you ask him. As for murdering Ardelve, I have never even spoken to the man. Nor did I meet her ladyship until after his death."

"You expect me to believe that, when I know you served Sir Hugo Robison at Roslin before you decided to step forth and claim Lestalric."

"If you know that, you understand why I am most unlikely to have conspired with her ladyship to murder her husband. Not only was Ardelve unknown to me, but surely you know Sir Hugo well enough to be sure he would not introduce a minion like Einar Logan to his sister-by-marriage. Nor would Prince Henry—forgive me, Orkney— or his formidable mother allow such a thing."

Fife grimaced. "Those are excellent arguments which you are fully entitled to make when—"

"My lord Fife, are you still below?"

"Help me up, damn you," Fife growled, reaching for Rob before raising his voice to shout, "Aye, what is it?"

"An army, my lord, approaching under the Douglas banner."

"Rally our men," Fife shouted.

"Sakes, sir, most of them are outside the gates, prey to any Douglas arrow! Aye, and the Roslin banner flies wi' the Douglas, sir. There be dunamany o' them."

"Tell your men to stand down, Fife," Rob said. "You know that the Douglas will follow no order of your giving."

"What the devil is he doing here?"

"He is gathering an army, of course, to keep the damned English in England, something you might aid him with if you want any country left to rule. Or would you prefer to fight his forces and those of Sinclair instead, here and now?"

Giving him a hard, resentful look, Fife shouted at the man above to have his fighting tail prepare to depart as soon as he could join them. Then, with grim intent, he said to Rob, "The Douglas and a few others want bringing to heel."

"Mayhap you can do that," Rob said amiably. "Do you need help up the stairs?"

Curtly declining assistance, Fife turned toward the stairway only to stop when he saw de Gredin still lying there. Without warning, he kicked the man hard.

De Gredin groaned, making what Adela thought was a credible showing of just coming to, but Fife snarled, "Get to your feet, man. We're leaving."

Adela stepped forward, saying urgently, "Surely, you don't want to encumber yourself so, my lord. You can see he's not fit to ride. He is welcome to stay with us until he has recovered from his injury. He suffered a dreadful fall."

Fife had winced after kicking de Gredin, revealing his own painful aftereffects, and he did not argue with her.

As they followed him up the stairs, Rob gave Adela's arm an affectionate squeeze, but she did not respond. She was glad to be safe but still angry with him about the locked door, and she strongly doubted that their troubles were over.

When they reached the courtyard, the scene was frantic. But Fife, despite visible pain and weakness, soon restored order and discipline to his men.

Then, his dignity still apparently intact, he managed to mount his horse with no more assistance than he might normally accept from a gillie, and without looking back, rode out through the gateway to take his place at the head of his fighting tail.

Following him with Rob as far as the gateway, Adela held her breath until she saw the formidable array of horsemen waiting at the edge of the woods to the south.

Eight abreast, rows of them formed the vanguard of a barely visible, much greater host in the woodland behind them, all waving lances, swords, and banners at the departing royal party.

Douglas and Sinclair banners flanked the leaders.

Only when the last of Fife's men had disappeared over the first hill did several of those leaders spur their mounts forward.

Adela recognized Sir Michael and scanned the rest for familiar faces, trying to remember what the Douglas looked like from her brief glimpse of him at court.

Her jaw dropped when she came to the first face she recognized. "The countess! And I see Isobel and Sidony now, riding up behind them!"

Isobel was grinning. Even the quiet Sidony looked pleased with herself.

Michael explained as he jumped from his horse and hurried to assist the countess, hampered by the shirt of mail and leather breeks that she wore. "I think we've got every horse and every man, woman, and child who can sit one for miles around," he said. "And everyone without one who could carry something to wave came along, too. 'Tis a damned good thing, though, that Fife didn't stay to fight."

"Henry ought to be here soon," Rob said. "He'll be delighted to see this."

"How did you get inside the castle?" Michael asked him.

"We saw the rope hanging from the sally port, so we moved back upriver to a point above the castle, tied me to one of the ropes we'd brought with us, and Henry manned it whilst I swam across and climbed the rope to the sally port."

"I'll wager that sounds easier than it was," Michael said.

"Aye, sure, but Adela had been kind enough to leave the sally port open and throw down the rope, so it seemed a pity to waste it. Scared me witless to see it, I can tell you, thinking she'd tried to use it and had fallen. But then I saw de Gredin."

"So he was there."

"Aye, thank the Fates. I'm thinking he probably saved my lass's life. I saw Fife, too, from the river before I grabbed the rope. He swung her out, threatening to toss her into the river. Had he not been holding her so, he'd have seen me."

"Fife is an evil man, Michael," Adela said. "He wanted to make me talk about"—she glanced at Rob— "about many things. I cannot believe he has simply gone away. He said I was under arrest! I've never been so terrified."

"Never?" Rob said.

She frowned, remembering how clearly she had been able to think. "It was strange," she told him. "At the time, I just thought about how I could foil his plan, whatever it was, and get away. And you, my lord husband," she added sternly, "have much to answer for with respect to the limited choices I had."

"Do I, sweetheart?" he said, putting an arm around her. "As soon as we get rid of all these people, you may have my head for washing."

"You think I won't," she said curtly. "But you had better prepare yourself."

He looked at her, eyes twinkling, and opened his mouth. But apparently he thought better of whatever comment he was about to make, for he shut it again and turned hastily to speak to Michael.

The urge to burst into laughzter had surged up without warning, and Rob was having all he could do to control it as he congratulated Michael on the success of his ruse. But he knew Adela would never understand that his need to laugh arose not from amusement but from the joy of having her safe again.

Moreover, he had sensed real anger beneath her words.

He recognized the euphoria of temporary victory, both in her and in himself, and dared to hope she would suffer no more of her nightmares. He had seen such relief before when once-defeated men went on to claim victory. The ills that had settled on them after failure eased as they came to believe in their abilities again and disappeared if they won their next battle. If she was truly angry with him, he would have to address that, but he could not do the task justice until they were alone.

"Judging by the way you're looking at your wife, you'll want to see us gone soon," Michael said. "So I shan't invite everyone to join you for supper."

"I want Henry," Rob said. "We've more to do yet, and I'm thinking we'll want to do it quietly. I don't trust Fife any more now than I did a half hour ago."

"Henry means to return to Edinburgh tonight," Michael said. "But I'll send men now to clear all the approaches to the gorge and guard them. I doubt Fife will return as long as he suspects the Douglas may still be here."

"Where is Douglas, and how did you alert him?"

"Sakes, I don't know where he is. I know only that Henry said he'd left Edinburgh. But the Douglas fighting banner is just a red heart on a white field. My mother was able to conjure up several in less time than it took to gather my army."

Adela was talking with her sisters and the countess, doubtless answering dozens of questions about her marriage and the intervening days. But it occurred to Rob that he knew a sure way to assuage her anger with him, whatever had stirred it. Moving closer to Michael, he said quietly, "I'll be taking Adela with us when Henry and I return to that cut, Michael, so make damn sure we'll be safe."

Michael's jaw hardened before he sighed and said, "You are badly smitten, my friend, to dare to suggest I'd risk Henry's life or yours, let alone Adela's, when I have power to prevent harm to all of you. You know our men are loyal."

"I know that someone told Fife that Einar Logan and I are the same," Rob said. "But it may not have been one of ours, and you're right about my feelings for my lady wife. Seeing her in Fife's arms scared the liver and lights out of me."

"I know," Michael said, looking not at Adela but at his own wife.

"There is one thing more," Rob said. "I don't want anyone else to be in the gorge with us, or any hint that we're there, for that matter. But I do want a strong tail ready to ride later tonight if I need one."

"You are certainly wearing your baron's mantle more comfortably," Michael said with a wry smile. "You shall have all you request, my lord. Dare I ask why?"

"Because if I find what I expect, I'll want to have a talk with the good Abbot of Holyrood," Rob said. "If I know my lass, she'll insist on riding with me to speak to him, and after what she's accomplished today, she deserves to go."