Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Michael's whole jaw ached, and the brief exploration he had managed when he regained consciousness revealed at least one loose tooth. He had come to his senses—or some of them, at least—to hear Isobel informing his cousin that he and Henry were honest men and knew nothing about any treasure.

It occurred to him that his fascinating, beautiful wife prevaricated with the dexterity of one well practiced in the art. He would take care to remember that skill in future, and to keep his wits about him.

Waldron's men had not been gentle with him, and he had had all he could do to keep feigning unconsciousness, especially when they nearly dropped him as they crossed the treacherously narrow bit of path just before the castle entrance. Knowing he needed as much time as possible to recover from the blow, and to be ready to grab whatever opportunity came his way, he had eased his eyes open just enough to look through his lashes, keeping his sore jaw slack and his body relaxed.

The lass surprised him. She had sounded perfectly calm, although he knew she had to be terrified. She and Waldron had followed the men carrying him, and when Waldron grabbed her arm and jerked her forward as if she were not moving quickly enough to suit him, Michael had felt a muscle twitch in his cheek and other muscles in his body tense. Realizing his bearers would likely detect even such slight movements, he had allowed himself a weak moan and relaxed again, hoping they would see nothing much amiss.

At the castle entrance, he prayed that his own lads would make no trouble, because he knew the two at the gate would be no match against so many and Isobel might be hurt in a scuffle. But she dealt with them deftly, too, no doubt threatened into compliance, and moments later they were inside.

He heard the yett snap shut, and knew no one could get in. Then Waldron took Isobel up to the ramparts with threats of employing the Kirk's methods for heretics. His certainty of his cousin's most likely intention stirred a wish that he possessed the power to turn him instantly to stone, but since magical powers were mythical, he could do no more than any other mortal. Still, with Waldron on the ramparts, two of his men guarding the main entrance, and others searching the castle, Michael knew he'd have only the four to deal with below. Each was well armed, but that meant only that he would have weapons again, which was good, since Waldron had taken his.

Dom lingered at the entrance landing long enough to be sure Fin Wylie knew his men were to search the castle swiftly and without stirring rebellion among the servants. Then he ordered his own lot to carry their burden downstairs.

Michael's worry about Isobel's fate at Waldron's hands increased with each step, and he wished fervently that his bearers would go faster.

The men's footsteps echoed through the stairwell as they descended, grunting occasionally and complaining of his weight. He hoped Dom would stop them at the kitchen level, where someone might see them and raise an alarm. But they continued to the lowest level, where the only light came through high, barred vents, although they were still some ten feet above the river.

He retained his patience as they bore him into the largest cell, where it became clear that Waldron had not explained how the cells were arranged. Nor had he warned the men to provide themselves with torches, so the lack of light made it hard for Dom to find the wall shackles that his master had told him to use.

Brusquely, he ordered his three minions to set down their burden and help him locate them.

Michael waited only until they had turned away before rising swiftly and silently to his feet, grabbing the nearest man, and quickly throttling him. With no time for more humane treatment, he managed the deed before the others realized aught was amiss. As his victim slumped lifeless to the floor, Michael pulled the sword from the scabbard strapped across the man's back. The whisper of sound startled the others, and all three turned. Dom was first to draw his sword.

Michael knocked its blade up and thrust straight through the man's heart. The other two quickly fell, too, and leaving them, he hurried up the stairs.

The sound of voices from above stopped him midway up the flight between the kitchen level and the main entryway. Holding the sword, blade-down, against his leg, he pressed hard against the wall and listened carefully.

Isobel peered over the parapet but saw Waldron nowhere below. A dirt pathway made a tan ribbon at the base of the cliff, but his body was not sprawled there. To be sure, the river flowed on the other side of that path, and the path looked no more than four or five feet wide, but if he had fallen into the river, as fast and full and boiling as it was, surely he had drowned. And even if he were still alive, he would tumble along in the water for at least a few more minutes, and it would take even longer for him to crawl ashore and find a way back inside the castle.

Having thus reassured herself, she hurried to the stairway door with dirk in hand and found the young guardsman on the walk there, groggily trying to sit up.

"What's your name?" she demanded, helping him.

"Jeb Elliot, m'lady." He shook his head. "What happened?"

"Have you a sword, Jeb?"

"Nay, mistress, for what use would one be t' me up here?" he said, looking at her in bewilderment.

"But you must have weapons!"

"Aye, a bow and arrows by yonder hoarding, two axes hanging near them, a few spears at each tower, and me own dirk. Where be Lord Waldron?"

"Gone," she said curtly. "Hush now, Jeb, and get on your feet if you can. If not, just move back away from the door, because I want to open it."

"But why—?"

"Do as I bid you," she said sharply, slipping her dirk back into its sheath in order to have both hands free to deal with the heavy bar holding the door shut.

Remembering that the men Waldron had ordered to come upstairs might be waiting, she lifted it carefully, trying to imagine what she could say to them. Having decided to tell them he was on the far side of the walkway, dealing alone with two highly skilled swordsmen, she was almost disappointed to find the stairway empty.

"Follow me," she said to Jeb Elliot. "Keep your dirk near at hand but do not show it unless I tell you to."

"It's in me boot, but should I no stay here and keep guard on the wall?"

"We must help Sir Michael. Evil men have taken him to the dungeons. At least ten of them have entered the castle, so we cannot risk showing our weapons. We'll have a better chance if they think us unarmed."

He made no further protest but followed her silently.

Holding her skirt up with one hand, and lightly touching the wall with the other, she hurried down the stairs, slowing as she neared the hall landing.

Hearing only an intermittent murmur of masculine voices from the level below, and seeing no one in the hall, she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Then, looking back at the lad long enough to command him to follow her but to stay silent no matter what should take place, she moved with careful dignity down the stairs.

Emerging on the entryway landing, she strode purposefully toward the alcove, making no attempt to muffle her steps. As she had hoped, one of the men Waldron had left there stuck his head out curiously.

"Your master requires your assistance above," she said. "Go to him at once."

"But he told us to stay here," the second man protested, emerging behind him. "Why should he now desire us to leave our post?"

"Sakes, do you think he confides in me?" Isobel snapped. "I just obey his commands. Mayhap you, who know him better than I, believe you can disobey him with impunity. I dared not question him and can only tell you what he said."

"We'll go, my lady," the first man said, turning ashen. "'Tis only that it be most unlike the master t' send for us both after commanding us t' stay put."

She shrugged. "'Tis possible, I suppose, that I misunderstood him, for I vow the man makes me quake in my shoes. If you believe I am mistaken, then go and ask him what he wants. He stayed above to truss up the two guards he overpowered there, and threatened to kill them both if that lad on the stair yonder does not guard me well. I do not want to face your master again until I must."

As the two looked at each other, she held her breath and prayed that Jeb Elliot would not speak or allow his expression to reveal his astonishment at her lies.

After what seemed an age, the elder of the two said to the younger, "I dinna think his lordship will blame us an one of us goes t' make sure o' his order whilst the other stays at his post, but if her ladyship be mistaken, he'll blame us both if he didna mean for us both t' leave. I'll just go and ask him."

The younger guard grimaced and barely waited for his senior to vanish up the stairway before muttering, "Aye, and take credit for doubting a woman whilst making me look defiant if the master wanted us both straightaway."

"Then go with him," Isobel said as if his decision had naught to do with her. She had managed to turn casually and watch as the other dashed up the stairway, and saw to her relief that Jeb still stood there. Looking back at the remaining man, she saw that he was still trying to decide what to do.

His gaze shifted suspiciously to Jeb.

"Ye there," he said grimly. "Ha' ye weapons on ye?"

"Nay," Jeb replied, earnestly shaking his head. "I've only me bow and arrows above. I'm nae swordsman."

"Aye, well, ye seem too young t' trust wi' a sword, but come here t' me and let me see that ye ha' no dirk in yon flapping great boots o' yours."

Jeb glanced at Isobel, and she nodded, so he obeyed, grimacing.

"Stand wi' your face t' the wall," the guard ordered. "I dinna want t' look at ye, just to inspect your boots."

Isobel saw Jeb's lower lip tremble, but he obeyed again, clearly terrified to expose his back to an enemy. Hearing a sound above, and fearing the elder guard's return, she drew her dirk again and watched the younger one poke his hand into Jeb's boots, finding the dirk in the left one.

As he grabbed it, she put the point of her own dirk against the back of his neck, pressing hard enough to let him feel its prick. "Let go of that dirk now, and don't move unless you want me to slice off your head with this one," she said.

The man froze, then slowly eased his hand away from Jeb's dagger.

"Put your arms straight out from your sides," she said.

He obeyed, moving slowly.

"Move away from him," she told Jeb. "Don't bend to get your dirk," she added swiftly as he moved to do so. "Get well away from him before you do."

She still had her blade pressed into the man's neck so hard that a bead of blood oozed around its sharp point, but she was not certain what to do next. She knew Jeb was too nervous to be trustworthy and feared that the moment she stepped back, her captive would turn and confront her, perhaps even snatch the weapon from her hand. The wisest thing, she knew, was to kill him, but while it was one thing to kill a man attempting to attack her or mayhap one who had threatened her, it was quite another to kill one who had done naught but obey his master.

"Keep your arms out straight," she warned him. "I do not have much control over my temper just now, so you would be wise to do exactly as I say."

"Aye, my lady, I ken fine that I shouldna frighten a woman holding a dagger," he said, and his voice trembled enough to convince her that he meant it.

With a sense of relief, she took a step back, and as she did, a wraithlike shape sped past her, she heard a thud, and the man collapsed to the stone floor.

"That should keep him out of the way," Isabella said with satisfaction. "Never leave a villain standing, my dear, if you can render him senseless."

Isobel stared at the countess in shock, realizing the thud had been the result of the iron poker in her ladyship's hand making contact with the poor man's skull.

"Close your mouth, my dear, lest you swallow a fly."

Obeying, Isobel swallowed, but then her wits returned. "There is a second guard above, madam. We should remove this one before he returns."

"He will not return," Isabella said.

"Faith, did you knock him on the head, too?"

With a wistful smile, Isabella said, "Nay, for I was below him on the stairs, with no way to creep up behind him without his hearing me. However, my husband believed in preparing for any event, so he equipped the upper door with strong iron bolts on this side. I shot them both, so unless that man leaps from the wall and comes in through the main door, he won't trouble us. What have you done with Waldron?"

"How did you know he was here?"

"Our people are well trained to warn us of visitors, as you will learn. Now, where is he, if you please?"

Ruefully, remembering how fondly Isabella had greeted him at Kirkwall, Isobel said, "I'm afraid I pushed him off the wall into the river."

"Excellent, so he will not trouble us either. And Michael?"

"Below," Isobel said with a shudder as she imagined what they were probably doing to him. "Four of Waldron's men are with him, madam."

Isabella frowned. "Only four?"

"A number of others are searching the castle."

"I see, but only four are with Michael, you say?" When Isobel nodded, her ladyship said, "Then either Waldron trained those four even better than I thought, or he is a fool. Come quickly, my dear. Oh, just a moment," she added, turning to Jeb, who still stood gaping at her.

As well he might, Isobel thought. Doubtless she was gaping, herself.

"You there, Jeb Elliot," Isabella said. "I saw horsemen in the glen, and as far as I could tell, looking out from the one hall window that lets one see anything, our men still guard the gate and the upper track. Slip out now, and tell our lads to shut the gate and bar it. Then tell them to run up the Raven."

"Aye, my lady, straightaway," the lad said.

"The Raven is our battle standard, my dear," Isabella added as Jeb hurried to unbar the yett. "If those men below are Waldron's, it may frighten them off. If they are not his, mayhap they have been frightened off already. Now, shall I go first?"

"I'll go, madam." She could not bear the thought that Michael might have been badly hurt or even killed by now and that his mother might reach him first.

"I shall be right behind you with my poker, and you must keep your own weapon in hand," Isabella said. "Between us, we ought to startle those louts witless, but do not hesitate to employ whatever means you must to unman them."

Isobel did not answer, fixing her attention instead on what lay ahead as she listened for sounds of approach from below. She heard nothing, and nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand clapped over her mouth as she rounded a corner. Her dirk hand shot up, but another hand caught it in a hard grip.

"Unhand her, Michael," Isabella said coolly. "I find that I am becoming quite fond of this intrepid wife of yours."

"Madam!" Michael exclaimed. Taking his hand away from Isobel's mouth, he slipped that arm around her instead and gave her a hug. "What are you two doing down here? If you know—"

"Pray, keep your voice down," Isabella interjected. "Whoever remains below may yet prove difficult."

"They are all dead," he said. "Where is Waldron?"

"Apparently, your lady wife tumbled him off the ramparts," his mother said dryly. "Shall we go to the great hall and make ourselves more comfortable?"

"What about his other men?" Michael asked, shooting Isobel a look of amusement. "There were more of them searching the castle."

"Aye, but I sent word to the kitchens," Isabella said. "Doubtless someone thought to use the postern door to let some of our lads in to deal with them, because I have not seen anyone else. Shall we send for ale or wine, and ask someone?"

Isobel looked astonished, and Michael could understand why. His mother's attitude toward her had certainly changed.

The countess turned and went back up the stairs with her poker, and Michael hastily kissed Isobel and squeezed her hand before following.

"Oh, Michael, she locked one man outside on the ramparts, one of the two who trussed up the porter. She said there are bolts on this side of the door up there."

"Aye, there are," he said, chuckling. "How is our porter?"

Guiltily, she exclaimed, "Faith, he is still tied up! We just came to look for you. The other man who was watching him is lying on the floor near him, too, because your mother knocked him out with that poker she was carrying."

"In all that tumult, did she think to raise the Raven?" he asked.

"Aye, because she thought it might frighten away any of Waldron's men who might still be in the glen. I don't think it will, though," she added.

"Nor do I," he agreed, "but if Hugo has not arrived yet with enough men to deal with them, I'll have something to say to him that he will not want to hear."

"Hugo?"

"Aye, sure. You must have realized by now that I rarely go anywhere that he does not follow. He took Waldron's measure years ago. If Hugo was not close behind him soon after he left the north, I shall be much surprised."

"He is here," the countess said from the entryway. The main door stood open, the porter stood on his feet beside it, and Hugo stood at the gate, handing the reins of his horse to a gillie. Two of his men dismounted nearby.

Hugo strode to meet them with a grin on his face. "So you are all safe. I was confident, but I don't mind admitting I'm relieved. Where's that villain, Waldron?"

"I do wish everyone would stop talking about him," the countess said. "Does not anyone else want a cup of claret?"

"I do," Hugo said, hugging her.

"I thought you were all afraid of her," Isobel said in her headlong way.

Laughing, Michael said, "We are, sweetheart. Just wait until you stir her ire."

"Never mind that," Isabella said. "I warrant you are all more interested in whatever brought Waldron to Roslin, so you'd better attend to that. You can tell me all about it over supper later, if it is one of those things that you can tell me about."

Without bothering to deny their interest, they promised to return as quickly as they could to enjoy a cup of wine with her. When Isabella asked if there was anything she could do to make Isobel more comfortable in the meantime, Michael pulled Hugo aside to tell him briefly what had happened. "Are you sure the glen is clear of the enemy now?" he asked when he'd finished.

"Aye, for now," Hugo said. "We saw no sign of Waldron anywhere. Did Isobel truly push him off the ramparts?"

"So my mother told me," Michael said. "What I want to discover is exactly what that villain did to drive her to such a course, although I can guess."

"I can, too," Hugo said.

Isobel's conversation with Isabella having ended, she stepped in between them and said bluntly, "I have earned the right to take part in this conversation, have I not?"

"Aye, sweetheart, you have," Michael said. "We're returning to the glen. Fetch rope, candles, and tinderboxes, Hugo. I believe more than ever now that a cave or tunnel must be involved in this, and if one is, I don't want to get lost in it."

Having expected Michael to order her to remain safely behind with the countess, especially now that Hugo had arrived, Isobel was delighted that he had not. When Hugo returned with a long rope coiled over his shoulder, they hurried down to the glen, crossed the river, and were following the track she and Michael had taken when Waldron's men attacked them, before she thought about Waldron again.

"Michael, what if he didn't drown? What if he's waiting for us?"

Michael glanced at Hugo, and that gentleman said, "I have men posted throughout the glen. Even Waldron is not so skilled that he could get past all of them. Michael might succeed, but he is the only man I know who might, and I'm not certain even he could do it. Moreover, Waldron is one whose measure of courage depends on how many men he has with him, and if any still linger hereabouts, my lads will soon lay them by the heels. Since we have not yet seen or heard from Waldron, I warrant he's either dead or still riding the river Esk."

When Michael nodded agreement, Isobel relaxed, and soon they came to the waterfall he had described, and he pointed out the Green Man carved into the cliff nearby. As far as she could tell, it was exactly like the one in the hidden stairway.

"The pair of them must have meaning, but what can it be?" she muttered.

When the men just stood frowning at the image, she said, "What about the falls? Have you ever looked to see if there might be a hiding place behind them?"

"There is only a small recess," Michael said. "Hugo and I used to slither along a narrow ledge there, and under the falls, until his father put a stop to the practice. There was barely room for the two of us even then, as lads."

"Then mayhap the answer lies in the other direction," she said, turning away from the river and pushing into the woods to follow the base of the cliff.

Shrubbery clung to its face, making her progress difficult, but five minutes later, she saw what she had hoped to see. "Michael, there's a bearded man here!"

The two men came running, and shortly afterward, they discovered an odd drawing on a wide, squat boulder that looked like another bearded man. But although they searched in widening circles around the boulder, they found no more.

Returning to the boulder where they had begun their search, Michael leaned against a nearby tree and stared thoughtfully up at its branches.

Hugo sat on a fallen log and gave vent to a frustrated sigh.

Isobel returned to the boulder and stood looking down at it. It was about two-thirds her height and nearly the same width. "Can the two of you move it?" she asked.

The men looked at each other in the conferring way she saw so often, then got up as one and strode to wrestle with the great rock. Though it took some time, it moved more easily than either had expected, revealing a well-like hole beneath it.

Excited, Isobel said, "Something must be down there. Can we get down to see what's at the bottom? It looks large enough to accommodate even the two of you."

Both men agreed, but because they wanted to insure secrecy, it was two more hours before they had checked Hugo's sentries and their own gear, enlisted two more loyal St. Clair lads to help, and declared themselves ready to continue.

"I'm going first," Michael said firmly, looking at Isobel rather than Hugo. "Once I know what is down there, I'll decide who else goes."

They both nodded, and Isobel waited patiently, certain that Michael would find what they sought. Hugo lowered him on the rope, and soon she saw light flicker far down in the hole as Michael lit a candle with his tinderbox.

"Have them lower you both down," he said. "There's a tunnel, a big one."

"You go first, my lady," Hugo said with a grin. "Your husband would not appreciate my standing below whilst they lower you."

Eagerly, she let them ease loops of rope around her hips and under her arms as they had done with Michael, and moments later she was descending into the ground with a rapidity and lack of fear that amazed her. Michael caught her at the bottom and helped her free herself. "Show me," she said.

He yanked on the rope and as the men above pulled it up, he held the candle so she could see the tunnel.

"Why, it's enormous!"

"Aye, I'm glad we've plenty of candles and men who ken where we are."

Moments later, Hugo stood beside them, and Michael led the way into the tunnel. They had not gone far when they came upon four chests.

The three of them stood staring.

"I smell water," Hugo said.

"I, too," Michael said. "Let's go on a bit before we examine those chests."

Ten yards beyond them, the tunnel turned, and ten feet beyond that, they emerged into a large cavern with what appeared to be a medium-sized lake in its center. The path they had followed looked as if it continued around it.

"Shall we go farther?" Hugo said. "The air seems fresh enough down here."

"I remember this place," Michael said. "This is the cave I've dreamed about for so long. Someone must have brought me here when I was very young."

On the far side of the lake, they came to another tunnel. "These tunnels seem to be man-made," Michael said. "At least, they've been widened with tools."

"This one seems to lead back toward the castle," Isobel said. "Could it connect to that hidden stairway somehow, Michael?"

"I don't know how, lass. That stairway ends above the cellar level of the castle. Mayhap there is a connection there, but we've never found it."

"Perhaps it was never finished," Hugo said, peering into the darkness ahead.

"I want to see what's in those chests," Michael said. "I wonder why they lie so near the entrance and not farther in where they would be harder to find."

Neither of his companions had an answer, but when they opened the first chest, they found a letter on top.

"Have a care with that candle, lass," Michael warned as Isobel moved hers closer to give more light. "I don't want to burn it up before I read it."

"'Tis another from your father, and it addresses Sir Henry," she said.

"Aye, well, I'm going to read it anyway," Michael said.

She read it, too: "Right worthy and trusted son," it began. "The contents of this cavern have been entrusted to Clan Sinclair to keep safe for as long as such guardianship shall be deemed necessary by the Order of the Knights Templar of Scotland. In these four chests lie the rules you must follow in this regard, as well as other documents, relics, and valuables. None is to be sold or given away, since all within this cavern lies entrusted to our keeping; however, you will find within the rules some rights that accompany the trust, and one of those is to use your own judgment as to where their safekeeping may be best secured. Study all the contents of the cavern well, so that you may know what you hold here, and keep all safe. Commit thy work to God!"

"He signs it ‘William Sinclair of Roslin,'" Isobel said. "That could be either your father or grandfather, but it was your father who wrote it, was it not?"

"Aye, it is his hand," Michael said. He picked up a scroll of some sort that lay under the letter and spread it open on one of the chests. "Look at this," he said.

It was a map, but unlike any Isobel had ever seen, for it showed lands far to the west of Scotland and the Isles. "This must be the map that Henry saw," she said.

Michael rolled it up again. "I'm going to take this and the letter back with us, but we'll leave everything else, and put the rock back until I can get word to Henry to come here. He has the right to see it all as it is now, and to decide what we will do next. Now that we've found it, though, I fear it is no longer as safe as it was. Those two lads above know of the hole in the ground and now know that we disappeared for a time after finding it. I trust them, but we must do something to protect it better, and soon. However, I dare not make that decision without consulting Henry first."

"I agree," Hugo said. "Do you want me to return to St. Clair and fetch him?"

"Yes, as soon as we've finished here," Michael said. "Now, let's put everything else back as we found it and leave. Come away from that trunk, lass."

He held out his hand, and Isobel reluctantly put hers in it. It went completely against the grain for her to leave without discovering what else lay in the fascinating chests, let alone without exploring the rest of so intriguing a cavern, but she knew Michael was right, and she knew, too, that she could trust him to tell her, in time, as much about their discovery as he learned about it himself.

Hugo had scarcely glanced at the chests.

After Michael shut the lid of the one that had contained the letter and map, he looked the others over carefully.

Isobel watched him, and when she caught his eye, he said ruefully, "I don't remember such chests in my dream, but I always enter the cavern from the same direction. I was just wondering if whoever brought me here could have done so before the chests arrived from the Isles."

She had not thought about when or how the chests had got there, but the subject did not interest her as much as their contents did. It was nearly impossible to walk away from them, making her almost glad that Michael gave her no choice.

When they were all safely up out of the well-like hole, the men replaced the boulder and Michael ordered the two lads who had helped them to keep utterly silent about the incident and to see that the glen and castle remained well guarded.

"Do what you must to see that no one enters the glen or approaches the castle from this direction without keeping a close watch on them," he added.

"Aye, sir, we'll keep all safe."

Isobel sighed. Trust was difficult when curiosity stirred. She had a strong feeling that she would never learn all she wanted to know about the treasure.