Chapter Twenty #2
William was ready to pound someone. Instead, he turned and slammed his hand hard against the cabin wall.
When he did, a small piece of parchment fell from one of the beams above him.
He opened it to find the words this band had continued to repeat to themselves and to each other.
Seemingly unimportant, he shoved it in his pocket then paused and retrieved it to read again.
The parchment was of good quality as was the ink, for there was no smudging.
The writing was fine as though the person who wrote it had been properly taught.
Elspeth.
She’d been here before Agnes’s abduction.
Understanding this and thoughts of the peculiar dowry arrangement got him thinking.
Just how long before their marriage had Elspeth been a part of these rebels and their cause?
Something niggled at him. Some connection he’d yet to discern that was the key to this whole business where his family was concerned.
For now, he would continue to focus on finding Agnes, and after that he would not rest until he unraveled the entirety of the plot.
William mapped out each community between there in a northwestern direction. If their end was Munroe lands, he’d have thought they would head northeast.
But what was northwest? Some small communities across various clan boundaries, but nothing came to mind to convince him they had sought refuge with an ally. If not that, then what? Another hiding place? With half the king’s guard tearing apart Scotland, William couldn’t figure out where they’d be.
After two days of searching with little rest, he determined he needed to return to Mugdock to recharge and regroup. They could not possibly be in any sort of typical lodging. And if they were squirreled away in some cave somewhere, they might never be found.
With low spirits he returned to Mugdock. Neville met him in the hall for an update to which he confessed he had none.
“Your mother has been asking for you constantly.”
“No doubt because the boys are testing her last nerve.”
“No, I believe it may be far more serious than that.”
William examined Neville for sincerity. The man looked as worn out as William felt. He’d dark circles under his eyes and his entire outward manner was unkempt which was grossly out of character.
“Do you know what it is about?”
“I do, but you cannot hear these words from me. This is for your mother to tell you and she alone.”
William was tired and hungry, but he would see to his mother first and then to himself. There was nothing more he could do for Agnes in his current state.
He knocked softly on her chamber door then entered. She opened it immediately and then ushered him to the hearth and passed him a trencher of food and some ale.
“Have you discovered her yet?”
Taking a bite of bread and then a drink of ale, William shook his head. He placed the trencher and goblet aside. “Mother, Neville tells me you have something I need to hear. Do tell me now for I am travel weary and in need of rest so I can resume the search on the morrow.”
He loved his mother dearly, but she’d changed since his father died. More often than not, she resorted to her own musings and could often be heard mumbling to herself.
“You are a good son. Loyal,” she said.
The word perked his attention. Why would she choose that one considering everything happening at the moment.
“Mother, what is it you wish to tell me?”
His mother wrung her hands as she took the seat opposite him. Tears welled in her eyes then spilled over onto her cheeks.
“I never thought it would come to this.”
“Mother, what are you talking about?”
“Elspeth. She adored your father. Believed every word he ever spoke and like your Agnes, loved to hear him tell stories.”
William had never known his father by any other means than as a good kind man who worked hard for his family, their clan, and the crown.
“What stories?”
She drew in a deep breath. This was hard for her, whatever she had to confess, but he was more convinced by the moment it was significant.
“At first, they were mythical, about faeries and witches and ghosts. As your sister devoured them each night, your father became more comfortable in the telling. He loved every moment in delighting her and she became lost in them. I would hear her talking to herself about them and in some ways the stories overlapped. I was worried and voiced my concerns to your father. So he decided to change their topic. He told her of our histories, our clan, and of the king, and eventually the subject turned to the rebels. She was insatiable in her thirst for knowledge about them. She had to know why they believed in the old king and not the current.”
William’s guts lurched as he heard the words flow from his mother.
“He told her what he knew and which families were supporters and which were loyal to the crown. Then finally the dreaded question came.”
He knew it before his mother even spoke. Everything clicked into place. All the rejections from suitors William tried to arrange for her. There was nothing wrong with the gentlemen. It was the families from which they hailed. She’d been bent on marrying a rebel all along.
“But surely Father explained their actions were treasonous. That these were not people with whom we associated.”
His mother slumped in her chair and leaned her head back.
Drawing another deep breath, she said, “Your father was so delighted in her interest, he embellished his acknowledgement of their cause. She seemed so very proud of him when he said he supported them, but could not tell another soul, not even you, lest he be discovered.”
He couldn’t believe his ears! How his own father could be so careless was unfathomable. But it all made sense. All the trouble Elspeth had caused.
“Surely Father could see in time the damage this falsehood had caused.”
“By the time he did, it was too late. She would hear no opposition from him and then he passed, taking his shame with him.”
And now she held his beloved Agnes captive, subjecting her to Christ only knew the level of torture.
His need to find her increased tenfold. There would come a time when she would no longer be useful to them.
And that only meant one thing. They would accept nothing less than the king off the throne, and once that happened, Agnes would serve no purpose.
Elspeth had to be behind much of this current plot.
These rebels had been around for years with little damage ensuing save for a few riots here and there, but little harmed and nothing like this.
Perhaps if she was the driving force, something else could be gleaned from the words she so cherished from their father.
“You must recount every story you are familiar with that father told Elspeth.”
“But what good would that do?”
“I believe if she hung off his every word, as you say, that something in the execution of this plot might be buried in those stories. She used the secret passageways after all, and I recall the night father told both of us about them. I remember her now sitting on the edge of her chair and insisting we take a torch and explore them right then and there.”
“You truly believe something in these stories might offer us a clue as to where she’s taken Agnes?”
“Aye, Mother. I am as certain as you and I are sitting here. There’s a clue in those stories. And now you must tell them to me. Leave out no detail.”
William reached for the trencher and goblet and settled into his chair. He waited for his mother to begin and then he listened intently. He would ferret out this detail even if it took them all night.