Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Dusk had fallen before Adela, Rob, and Henry made their way into the densely wooded cut, but from that point on, things moved swiftly. The huge central slab pulled away from the other two more easily than they had expected, revealing a three-foot-wide opening in the hillside.

"Sakes, look at this," Henry muttered as he felt the inner edge of the opening. "This slab is hung on hinges, Rob, fixed somehow into that other rock."

"Take this torch, Henry," Rob said, handing it to him. "We'll light mine and keep yours to use if we need it."

While he stepped into the passage to light his, Adela looked back the way they had come. Rob had said Michael and his men were guarding all the approaches to Hawthornden and this part of the gorge, and she knew no one in the castle could see them in the cut, even from the ramparts. Nor could anyone hear them from more than a few feet away over the din of the rushing river. She still felt nervous, although she fairly tingled in anticipation of what they hoped to find.

"Doubtless, one of us should keep watch out here," Henry said. "But I'm damned if I will, and I suspect you won't consent to do so, Rob, or leave Adela."

"We'll trust Michael," Rob said, leading the way and holding the torch high.

Adela followed him into the passageway with Henry right behind her. Compared to the first time she had been in such a place, this was less frightening. The odds that anyone could surprise them now were much smaller.

Rob stopped, and the silence of the passageway closed around them.

"A second passage takes off here," he said, holding his fair copy of the map to the light. "If this is right, we bear left here at this first one."

"Aye, that's right," Henry said, looking at his own map.

Their confidence that it was the right place increased as they proceeded. Men had widened the passage they followed, and the ground was smooth, nearly free of obstacles. Although they had not been walking for long, they had made three turns.

Adela dared not trust her sense of direction, and neither man commented.

Abruptly, the passage opened into a wider chamber.

Rob held the torch higher, and light glittered from crystalline formations. "Wait here," he said. "The path ends here, so there may be pitfalls."

Adela heard water dripping.

"Is there not a symbol on the map at the end of that line?" Adela asked.

"Just a small square," he said.

"Like a treasure chest?" Henry asked.

"Just a square, Henry. God knows what it means." He began walking slowly away from them, holding the torch well out in front of him. He was halfway across the chamber when he stopped still. He did not say a word. He just stood there.

"What is it?" Adela asked quietly.

"Come see," he said.

Rob heard them walk up behind him, but had it been Fife himself coming to arrest him, he could not have taken his gaze from the Stone.

It was dark, either polished marble or basalt, a block as high as his knees. It looked to be about a foot and a half deep, nearly a yard wide, and it was carved and gilded with designs that gleamed eerily in the light of his torch—spirals, a harp, a Pictish boar, and a lion among others. He discerned less visible traces of carved lettering that looked to be Gaelic or Latin. The Stone had feet, balls carved like an eagle's claws, and front corners carved to resemble reptile legs, possibly lizards.

"What are these?" Adela asked, moving closer to touch one of a pair of hooks fixed into the side nearest her. A second pair adorned the opposite side.

Rob and Henry exchanged looks, and Rob said, "I'd guess they are there so men can transport it on two stout poles."

"So this is the true Stone of Scone?"

"Aye," Rob said. "Look here at the seat. It bears a foot-print, I think."

"Like the Isles' Footprint Stone," Adela said.

"They were said to be gey similar," Henry said. "What's more, this one looks just like what one sees on official seals made after earlier coronations."

"I've seen the Footprint Stone," Rob said. "Donald stepped onto it barefoot at his installation. This looks as if one is to sit on it, despite the footprint."

"Mayhap one did both," Adela suggested. "That would make sense if the rightful king had to fit the foot-print before he could sit."

Henry smiled. "I don't think they had to fit the print," he said. "Some just thought the man they'd selected would make a great ruler if his did. What do you want to do about this, Rob? I'm thinking it may not be safe to leave it here now."

Rob frowned, then said musingly, "It's been safe enough since they brought it here. However, thanks to de Gredin, Fife now believes the Templar treasure is in Scotland. Moreover, he believes the Sinclairs know where it is, and he told Adela he expected his questions of her to reveal whether I also know or if I know the whereabouts of something even more valuable, something that would gain him the Scottish crown if he could find it. I'm guessing the Stone is what he meant by that."

"Aye, sure," Henry said. "To find the Templar treasure would be a grand thing by itself, but the Scottish nobility would not support Fife against Carrick simply because of untold wealth. Indeed, such wealth in his hands would more likely create increased friction. If he found the Stone, though, he could argue that Bruce's notion of passing the succession to the eldest son is wrong, that the son who'd found the true Coronation Stone is proven worthier just by finding it. Most nobles already agree that Fife would make a stronger king than Carrick. They don't like him, but nearly all would support him if he produced the Stone. What I don't understand is why he thinks you might know its whereabouts."

Adela said, "Is it possible he simply thinks the Stone may be hidden with the Templar treasure?" When she saw Rob exchange a look with Henry, she added, "Recall, too, sir, that the chevalier told us that when he first approached Fife, the earl said he was the second one to mention secrets to him in as many weeks."

Rob grimaced. "Will! Doubtless seeking favor of some sort by revealing his own suspicions, though heaven knows why he'd wait so long to do so."

Henry shrugged. "Fife was in no position to grant favors until this past year when he began to take over so many of the King's duties."

"And the King was far less likely to suffer the attentions of such a self-serving sycophant as Will was," Rob said grimly. "But you make a good point, lass, in suggesting that Fife may believe the Stone and the treasure are one and the same."

"Which makes my point that we should move the Stone," Henry said. "If Fife begins his own search in earnest, Roslin Glen is the first place he'll look."

"But how can we move it?" Adela asked.

"Someone moved it here," Rob said.

"Even so, we can't move it tonight. What are you going to do now?"

Rob looked at Henry. "Do you still plan to ride to Edinburgh tonight?"

"Either tonight or early in the morning. Michael did tell me that you'd requested—I think he said ‘demanded'—a large fighting tail tonight."

Rob nodded. "Just how sure of himself do you suppose Fife is if neither Douglas nor Sinclair poses an immediate threat to him?"

"As sure as you'd want him to be," Henry said with a twinkle.

"That's what I thought, myself."

"What else are you thinking?" Adela asked Rob mildly.

His wry smile told her he knew she was still angry with him. But he said only, "I think your gallant chevalier should return to Edinburgh with Henry."

"I hope you have better reason for that than a belief that I shall enjoy his company," Henry said.

"I mean to take him into our confidence," Rob said. "I'll tell him I want him to ride with you as a diversion, in the event that Fife is keeping a watch out for us. I'll say I want to talk with the abbot about information I gained at Lestalric."

"You expect him to tell Fife, and Fife to believe you have the information he wants, whether 'tis treasure, Stone, or both he seeks," Henry said. "But he'll be ripe to murder de Gredin afterward, will he not? Sakes, he's ripe for murder now."

"Then take de Gredin to Orkney with you," Rob suggested. "If you can, I'd like you to leave for town in a couple of hours. Adela and I will follow."

"I can leave whenever you like, but I did intend to slip out and meet my ship at Leith unbeknownst to Fife," Henry reminded him.

"Aye, sure, but I need you."

"You've grown impertinent, sir," Henry said severely.

"Have I?" Rob said. "More than before?"

Henry chuckled.

"You've nowt to worry you, Henry. Even Fife will hesitate to confront you. But come now, both of you. We need to close this place up again."

"But what will you do about the Stone?" Adela asked.

"Henry and I must confer about that," Rob said. "But not now."

She nodded, feeling virtuous for not pressing him further. She had said nothing about his having kept the secret of the locked door to the caves from her, not wanting to risk angering him too much lest she miss this expedition. Nor would she risk being left behind when he rode to Edinburgh.

She would hold her peace until she was ready to have it out with him. But have it out with him, she would.

Not much to Rob's surprise, de Gredin agreed at once to ride to town with Henry, assuring him so fervently that he'd not tell a soul about Rob's plans that Rob was tempted to tell him he could inform anyone he liked. He resisted the urge, having no more faith in the chevalier's integrity than he'd had from the outset.

De Gredin was just bait in a trap.

Later, as Rob lifted Adela to her saddle before their ride to Edinburgh, he wondered when she would speak her mind to him. She had chatted amiably enough as they ate supper, but he had sensed her tension then and he still sensed it.

She was biding her time, and although he wondered what he had done to displease her, he was sure she would tell him in her own good time.

Gossamer mist veiled the moon again, but the nights were growing warmer.

As he swung onto his saddle, he realized that although his shoulder ached from the day's exertions, the real pain was nearly gone. Adela had smeared more of the salve on the wound for him, but he'd needed no more of Isabella's willow-bark.

Henry had a large party of men with him, but Rob and Adela had a tail of a dozen well-armed ones, including Archie Tayt, whom Rob decided to send ahead.

"Stay off the main track," he told him. "We want to know if anyone is waiting for us, so be wary. Although we're not carrying torches, they'll be able to see us if they're on the watch, unless this mist thickens till yon moon disappears altogether. Oh, and before you leave, Archie, tell the others to drop back a bit."

"Aye, sir," Archie said.

"Now then, lass," Rob said as soon as he could be sure they were beyond earshot of anyone else. "My head is yours for the washing. What have I done?"

Surprised, Adela looked at him, trying to determine if he was girded for battle or merely curious. Even in the pale light cast by the hazy oval moon, she could see his eyes dancing.

"Would you laugh at me, sir?"

"Nay, lass. 'Tis only that you look so solemn and serene, although I ken fine that you want to shred my character. I don't look forward to it, but if I have done aught to anger you, I should know what it is, should I not?"

"'Tis your secrets again," she said. "You showed me the door to the caves under the castle but not the trick to open it. So when I realized I could not get down that rope before Fife would be upon me—if at all—I had nowhere else to go."

"I don't suppose you considered the pit," he said.

She looked at him.

"Nay, I suppose not." He grimaced. "You are right to be angry, lass. That was a dangerous oversight, and I do apologize for it. You cannot imagine what went through my head when I saw that rope hanging down and the sally port open. All I could think was that if you'd attempted to escape that way and fallen, I'd never forgive myself for having shown you that rope. Little did I realize I'd endangered you more by neglecting to show you the trick of the door. I'll show you how it works as soon as we return to Hawthornden."

Her anger assuaged by his remorse, she said, "I do know that once something becomes a habit, the habit is hard to break."

"Aye," he said. "And I'm still not persuaded that you should know all that I know, but we can discuss that more now or whenever you like. I've a notion I'm going to be tempted to tell you more than I should in any event."

"Do you think so?"

"Aye, for you've magic in you, sweetheart. I'm as wax in your hands."

"You weren't when you refused to let me search with you and Henry."

His eyes narrowed speculatively. "Do you really want to discuss that now?"

Feeling heat flood her cheeks at the mental image of herself, flinging platter and bowl at him, she shook her head.

"I thought not."

Seeking another subject, she said, "Do you think Fife might already be waiting at the abbey for us?"

"Nay, for if he expected us to go anywhere tonight, it would be to Roslin, where he's less likely to lay hands on us. He won't know we're at the abbey until de Gredin tells him, or his spies do. In either event, I don't want a confrontation with him in the open whilst you're with me, so we'll take the woods trail. By doing so, we should also have time to talk to the abbot before Fife finds us."

"If he does," she said.

He changed the subject then, and they continued to chat about nothing in particular. Then, abruptly, he said, "Look there."

They had topped the ridge above the forested plain leading to Edinburgh, and beyond the flat stretch of darkness, lights of the town glimmered like jewels in the mist. The Castle looked silvery atop its dark hillside.

"It is beautiful," she said. "The abbey end looks dark, though."

"The kirkyard will be lighted," he said. "And the abbot will be there."

They skirted Arthur's Seat and entered the abbey woods a short time later, riding silently but for the noise of trappings and the splashy thuds of the horses' hooves on the boggy path. As they entered the rear of the kirk-yard, they saw Archie Tayt waiting. Rob raised a hand to halt the men behind him.

"Have you seen Brother Joseph?" he asked Archie.

"Aye, sir. He said to tell ye the abbot would see ye straightaway afore Nocturnes. They've no rung the bell yet, but he did say it wouldna be long now."

"Where is Lord Orkney?"

"He rode right through town, m'lord, but wi' only half his force. I talked wi' one o' his lads as rode through the abbey woods, and he said that his lordship and the chevalier had decided that if ye wanted a stir, they'd give ye one."

Nodding, Rob jumped down and helped Adela dismount. But as the two of them hurried round to the abbey entrance, he muttered, "I warrant Henry's trusting de Gredin more than he should. Sakes, though, I cannot blame him. I nearly told him myself that I wanted Fife to come after us. I hope Henry did not go that far."

"De Gredin did help us," Adela reminded him.

"Aye, lass, but I still don't trust him. If he believes he's in danger, he can go with Henry to Orkney and be safe. As it is, I'm sorry Henry will miss this meeting."

"We did not come here just to test the chevalier or to trap Fife, did we?"

"Nay, but we may have come on a fool's errand."

Entering the abbey kirk, they crossed the candlelit vestibule, and Rob saw the abbot when they stepped into the nave. His bulky person was hard to miss, and he was kneeling where he had been when they'd come before.

Rob put a hand on Adela's arm to stop her, then put his arm around her and drew her close in a warm hug. His body stirred, reminding him of his constant desire for her, making him wonder what would become of them. He did not fear Fife except insofar as the earl threatened Adela. To keep her safe, he would do what he had to do. The Isle of Orkney would provide safety, and not just for de Gredin.

"I gave it up before; I can do it again." When she looked at him, frowning, he realized he'd spoken aloud. "Just talking to myself," he said. "'Twas nowt."

But it was not "nowt," of course, because even as the words left his tongue, he knew he did not want to forfeit Lestalric either. Although he had felt no love for his father or Will, he had cared deeply for his grandfather and all that Sir Walter had represented. In his own mind, Lestalric had been Sir Walter's, was now his own, and would one day be his son's. He had a duty to do all he could to protect it and keep it out of Fife's hands. But he would not risk Adela's safety even for that.

"How may I serve you, my son?"

Rob looked away from his wife's beautiful face to see the abbot striding toward them. Releasing her, he said, "Is there a place we can speak privately, sir?"

"Aye, briefly," the abbot said. "The bell will toll Nocturnes in less than a quarter hour. Is aught amiss, Sir Robert?"

"I don't know, my lord. But I must not say more until we can be sure we will not be heard."

"I see. Then come into this chamber," he added, pushing open a door. "The door lacks a lock, but if her ladyship will condescend to keep watch, we can leave it open. The brothers will not enter the kirk until the bell begins to toll."

When Adela hesitated, Rob understood her as easily as if she had spoken. He said, "I want her ladyship to hear all we say. I know you may be reluctant …"

"Nay, my son. According to Holy Kirk, a man and his wife are one. If you wish it, it shall be so. She can stand just inside here to keep watch. That way, she will hear all we say and still be able to warn us if anyone enters the nave. So, now," he said as he led Rob farther into the room. "What is it?"

"We found something of great value today near Hawthornden Castle."

"I see."

The abbot's expression remained neutral, but the fact that he did not ask what they had found bolstered Rob's confidence. The abbot might simply lack curiosity, but Rob's feeling was that he had not asked because he already knew.

"You were here at Holyrood when the English last invaded Scotland, were you not, sir?"

"I was. I served as baillie to the abbot, just as Brother Joseph serves me."

"And you knew my grandfather, did you not?"

"I did, very well, as had my own lord abbot before me."

Rob hesitated. Although he had imagined several such dialogues since the discovery and his subsequent decision to approach the abbot, now that the moment had come, his long-held reluctance to reveal too much put a lock on his tongue.

He glanced at Adela, but she was keeping careful watch over the nave.

The abbot said diffidently into the silence, "This item you found, Sir Robert. If one may ask, what do you intend to do with it?"

Rob looked him in the eye. "I came here to seek your advice, my lord."

"I see. Perhaps you might just tell me what color this item is."

"Black or dark gray. The light was not good enough to be sure."

"Its size?"

"A yard wide, mayhap two feet deep, and as high as my knees."

"Has it legs?"

"Of a sort. They looked reptilian. It also has feet, like eagles' claws."

The abbot nodded. "We need say no more about it, then. Nor will we name this item, for I have sworn not to do so, if only to protect the abbey. It was to protect Holy-rood and everyone here that my superior and I first spoke to your grandfather."

"So the item was here?"

"Aye, almost from the first. The Abbot of"—he hesitated—"of another abbey, believing the invaders of his time would proceed directly there, applied to the abbot here. That abbot here, you know, was from Lestalric and thus was as loyal to his country as to his abbey. We are told that he never lied, but of course, failure to tell a complete truth is near enough a lie to require both penance and absolution. Still, he saved this abbey, and he protected the item."

"Then the English came again," Rob said.

"Och, aye. But recall that they occupied this area from 1296 till Bannockburn, when Bruce routed them. Then they threatened to invade again fifteen years later as he lay dying. They crossed into the Borders and severely damaged Melrose Abbey and others, making it clear that they were likely to do the same thing here."

"What did you do?"

"We spoke to the King. No one could doubt Robert the Bruce's feelings for Scotland or his hopes for her destiny. He did all he could to preserve both. It was he who said we could not risk revealing what we knew to anyone else until the Scottish throne was secure and the English no longer a threat. He told us we could entrust what we knew to two men, however, and he named them. Both had proven their loyalty to him. Later, both sacrificed their lives in his service."

"I know who they were," Rob said. "Orkney was with us when we found it."

"Aye, then you likewise know that both Sinclair and Logan passed what they knew to their sons before they left to carry the Bruce's heart to the Holy Land."

"What of the Douglas?" Rob asked. "Did good Sir James not also know?"

"Nay, for as much as Bruce trusted him, he knew the Douglases harbored hopes of ruling Scotland themselves. And, too, there were fierce factions in that clan then, as there are today. Bruce trusted only Sir James."

"Still, others must have known," Rob said. "No two men could have carried the item two feet, let alone from Holyrood to its present location."

Glibly, the abbot said, "Aye, sure, but there was an organization of outstanding soldiers who had proven their loyalty to Bruce at Bannockburn. He recommended several of them to assist Sinclair and your grandfather, and they did."

"An organization?" Rob said, noting that Adela had turned but keeping his gaze fixed on the abbot. "I believe I know of such an organization, sir."

The abbot gazed steadily back. "I thought you might," he said. "But time is fleeting. You asked for my advice, so I'll tell you what the Bruce told us. At least three men should know the item's whereabouts, but its very presence in Scotland should remain secret until the Scottish throne is secure. Due to the present upheaval within the royal family, and with the English again threatening our border, I'd advise you to continue as we began if the place of concealment remains safe."

"Aye, sure, but I'm nearly certain the Earl of Fife suspects—"

A distant bang interrupted him, and Adela said, "Someone's coming!"

Fife was the first one through the archway from the vestibule. His grim expression was enough to send shivers through Adela's body, but warm hands on her shoulders reminded her that Rob was there, and the abbot, too.

Fife carried a sword, and when armed men followed him into the nave, Rob gently moved Adela aside and opened the door wide.

Stepping into the nave, he said, "Are you looking for me, my lord earl?"

Adela moved back into the doorway, her heart pounding, determined to see.

Fife's anger was clear as he faced Rob. "You are under arrest, Lestalric, and your lady, too," he said. "I'm told she is here with you."

"Do you always attend Kirk with sword drawn?" Rob asked in a lazy tone.

Fife stiffened, clearly on the verge of losing his temper. "Draw yours, sirrah, and we'll end our contest now," he said.

"I don't draw my weapon in kirk," Rob said, sounding almost sorrowful, Adela thought. "But if you like, I'll meet you in the kirkyard."

"Where is Orkney?"

"What? Do you fear Henry? Doubtless, he's aboard ship on his way home and won't trouble you tonight."

"Nay, I ken fine he was in town but a short while ago, with a large force."

Overhead, the great abbey bell began to toll.

Fife whirled, snapping at one of his followers, "Tell whoever is making that din to stop it until I'm finished here!"

The henchman fled, and Adela felt hands on her shoulders again. She did not jump, knowing them to be the abbot's.

He moved her aside as Rob had done. When he passed her, she stepped back into the doorway as before.

The bell kept tolling, and she saw the hooded monks filing into their stalls.

Sword still out, at the ready, Fife watched Rob and moved toward him, either ignoring the abbot's appearance or not noticing him.

Rob seemed to grow more alert with each step Fife took until finally, when Adela's terror threatened to stop her breathing, Rob reached for his sword.

The abbot put a hand on his, stopping him. Then stepping in front of him, he waited for the tolling to stop before he said sternly, "Put up your weapon, sir."

"Get out of my way, old man," Fife snapped.

"I'm told that, despite your many faults, you are a God-fearing man, my son. Would you, a prince of this realm, befoul His house with violence?"

"That man and his wife are under arrest for acts of violence and murder. If they continue to defy me, I will take them bodily from here and hang them."

"You will not, my son, for this is a sanctuary. To take anyone from here against his will must result in your excommunication. Do you want to burn in Hell for all eternity? Put away your sword."

Fife hesitated, glanced back at his men, who had followed him in, then took another step forward. As he did, noise from the choir stalls drew Adela's attention.

Turning, she saw the monks throwing off their hooded black robes to reveal Rob's twelve men-at-arms. Their weapons remained in their scabbards, but she had as little doubt as Fife must have had that they would draw them if need be.

If Adela was astonished, the abbot was more so, for she saw his eyebrows shoot upward. But he stood his ground, saying calmly to Fife, "Your own family will not support this criminal act, for such it must be. You know that neither Sir Robert nor his lady has committed any crime such as you have described to me."

Without taking his eyes from Fife, Rob said, "He believes a friend of his will testify to the crime of which he accuses my lady and likewise believes that, to protect her, I attacked that friend last Tuesday as the abbey bell tolled Nocturnes."

"Last Tuesday?" The abbot frowned. "Is that what you believe, my son?"

"Aye," Fife snarled. "For that is the truth."

"Nay, it is not," the abbot said. "I married Sir Robert and his lady Tuesday last before all the brothers of this abbey. The bell began to toll Nocturnes just as they were leaving. Where did this attack take place?"

"Near St. Giles," Fife said resentfully.

The abbot looked at Rob. "Might that person testify against her ladyship?"

"You have my word that he will not."

"Then, by God, I'll find ten others who will," Fife growled.

The abbot regarded him sternly. "You give yourself away with such statements, my son. You have no charge, and no crime. I suggest you go home."

One of Fife's men crept up to him and whispered in his ear, whereupon the earl turned without another word and strode from the chamber.

"Mercy," Adela said, staring. "I did not think he would go so quietly."

"Doubtless, he has seen the error of his ways," the abbot said.

"More likely, his man told him Henry and his lads are in the kirkyard," Rob said with a grin. "Also, his own men learned that his charges are untrue. His friend the chevalier suffered no attack from anyone but Fife, who is behind all of this, as well as the attack on me near Lestalric. So, I think we have blunted his sword."

"Are we safe then?" Adela asked doubtfully.

"As safe as one ever can be from a vengeful prince," he said. "We have won this skirmish, however. I'm sorry we delayed your service, my lord abbot."

"You must beware, my son," the abbot said. "The Earl of Fife is no great warrior, but he is sly and ever dangerous."

"I'm hoping only that he'll take enough time deciding what to do next to give us enough to do what we must to protect ourselves," Rob said. "I know you must proceed now with your service, but thank you. We won't forget your help."

"Nor will Holyrood forget Lestalric," the abbot said warmly.

Outside, they met Henry in the yard with a large force of his men waiting patiently nearby, far enough away to be out of earshot. They saw no sign of Fife.

"What became of de Gredin?" Rob asked Henry.

He grinned. "He should be aboard my ship by now. He took the precaution of sending a messenger to Fife, saying he thought it best to avoid meeting him."

"I still don't trust that man, Henry."

"My lads will keep an eye on him." Henry nodded toward the abbey kirk. "I trust everything went well inside."

"Well enough," Rob said, briefly describing the episode.

When he had finished, Adela said, "What will you two do about the Stone?"

"We'll have to think about that," Rob said.

"I could take it to Orkney," Henry suggested as Rob put Adela on her horse.

"Sakes, Henry, they already suspect that you have the treasure. I'd not be surprised if Fife organized an attack on Orkney to search for it."

"He'd be declaring war on the King of Norway if he did," Henry said.

"He might not think about Norway," Rob said. "However, there is someone else in the Isles powerful enough and honest enough for us to trust with it."

"The Lord of the Isles?" Adela guessed, watching Rob mount his horse.

"Nay, lass," he said. "Donald may be honest. I've no cause to think he is not, but he is the present King's grandson and Fife's nephew. I'd not trust him to keep it secret from them. But Ranald of the Isles is one of the most honest men in Scotland. Furthermore"—he glanced at Henry—"he is a member of what the good abbot called an organization of outstanding soldiers who proved their loyalty at Bannockburn."

Henry nodded. "He is, indeed, and 'tis a good notion. But how can we do it?"

"We've time enough to ponder that," Rob said. "Although Fife suspects I may know something about the Stone, without support from other powerful nobles, he cannot raise an army against me, especially since it won't take me long now to increase and organize my own men-at-arms at Lestalric. It would be different, of course, if his grace had a royal army at his command as English kings do."

"Aye," Henry agreed, "because Fife would soon take command of that army, as he has of so many other things."

"But the King of Scots has to persuade his nobles to provide the men for any army he requires," Adela said.

"He does, indeed," Rob said. "But although that means we can leave the Stone where it is for now, with the Sinclairs guarding it, I'm concerned about the threat of another English invasion. I'd like to see that bit of Scotland's history well away from any path they might take to look for it."

Henry nodded. "We'll give it more thought, then. Are you riding with me?" he added as he turned his horse toward Holyrood's gates.

"Aye," Rob said. "Partway, at least."

Surprised, Adela said, "But is Henry not riding to Leith?"

"Aye, sweetheart," Rob said with a smile. "And we are going home."