Chapter 17
Her cell was seventeen paces wide and one and thirty paces deep.
It was rather roomy for a prison cell, she thought, as she paced back toward the cell door.
Ilsabeth knew the battle with Henry would not end with some quick, simple sword fight, but she did think it had been too long since Simon, Gowan, and the others had finally gone looking for Simon’s brother.
She certainly doubted it was civilized debate that was keeping everyone away for so very long.
Despite her efforts not to put Simon and Henry together in her mind, as brothers, Ilsabeth found she could not fully control her own thoughts.
Simon and Henry shared a look about them and she had to wonder if any of Simon’s other siblings had that look as well.
Perhaps she would look into his bloodlines, she mused, and hastily shook the idea away.
Simon had to know his own bloodlines, had to know which relatives, if any, he had who might shelter his younger brothers.
And his brothers had to have heard at least one tale about Simon yet they had made no effort to get to know him, talk to him, or even just go to Simon’s house to see what he looked like.
She did not understand families like that.
Ilsabeth knew Henry had to have been a source of the poison that had torn apart the family, but why had the ones Henry tormented and hurt never banded together against him?
It made no sense to her. It was as if the other three brothers had escaped and made no effort to see if Simon had managed to do the same.
“Bastards,” she muttered as she began to stomp back and forth across her cell, pleased to have some target to hurl her anger at. “Simon has been a king’s mon for years. It wouldnae have taken his younger brothers much effort to just open their eyes and look about a little to find him.”
“But we did.”
Ilsabeth was surprised that the screech that escaped her had not brought every guard in the area rushing to her cell.
Then she remembered that every guard around, except for a few hand-chosen ones left to keep the king surrounded and protected, was hunting down Henry Innes of Lochancorrie and stupid Walter.
She felt a pinch of fear over the fact that she was unguarded and there was a stranger there, but calmed herself with the knowledge that she was safe where she was.
“Who are ye?” she demanded, edging close enough to the cell door to get a better look yet staying out of reach of whoever was standing there watching her.
There were three of them. The tallest of the three leaned against the bars of her cell and replied, “I am Malcolm Innes. This is my younger brother, Kenneth.” He pointed to the one standing by his right shoulder.
“And this is my youngest brother, Ruari,” he added, and pointed to the young man standing on his left.
“I believe ye are acquainted with our brother Simon and, sad to say, our eldest brother, Henry.”
“How did ye come here? Now? Today instead of years ago?”
“We have come because your cousin Sir Tormand Murray told us that Henry will soon be gone. He was why we stayed in hiding. He tried to kill us.”
“But, ye would have been nay more than bairns,” she said.
“Aye. He tied us up and tossed us in a wee boat that had a lot of small holes in it. Then he pushed it out onto the waters of a verra large loch. I recall him telling us that it was also verra deep and no one would e’er find our bodies.”
Ilsabeth could see it all too clearly and she pressed her hands over her mouth for a moment, before removing them enough to whisper, “How did ye survive?”
“A fishermon from the clan that lived across the loch. He pulled us from the water just before the boat finished sinking. I told him we could ne’er go home, nay as long as Henry lived or before we were big enough, strong enough, and powerful enough to kill him.
So he took us to his laird. His laird decided his lands were too close to Henry’s for our safety and so he sent us to his brother who had married a laird’s daughter far up into the Highlands.
That is where we have grown and learned to wield a sword, daggers, our fists.
” He shrugged. “Sometimes we sell those skills to ones who need them. It helps the clan, which is poor and small.”
“But, Simon would have helped ye. He has been one of the king’s men for years now and he has both power and skill. If ye had come and told him what Henry had done, he might have been able to rid Lochancorrie of that madmon ere now.”
“Mayhap. I ken that we hid longer than we needed to, but ye werenae stuck in that boat, tied, unable to swim even if ye kenned how, and kenning that ye will die and have to watch your brothers die, too.”
“True. I wasnae. ‘Tis hard to understand a mon who would so easily kill wee lads, especially when they are of his own blood. Wasnae your father still alive then? He wouldnae have wanted ye all dead, would he?”
“I dinnae ken what our father thought when we all disappeared but he didnae come looking for us, did he. Nay, father wasnae like Henry, but he was a brutish mon. If he thought we had been killed, ‘tis plain to see that he didnae look to the one who did it or why.”
“So why are ye here now?”
“To see Simon and, mayhap, return to Lochancorrie. I have ne’er forgotten our home for all that it wasnae a verra happy place for us as children.”
Ilsabeth stepped a little closer to the bars to study the three young men. They all held the look of Simon although Ruari was of a larger build, like Henry. The gray eyes were the same, just different shades of the same color. If Henry were defeated, Lochancorrie would have need of such men.
“They went to hunt down Henry and his fool, Walter. I dinnae think it will be all that hard to find them. ‘Tis evident ye ran into no trouble in getting inside the keep.”
Ruari grinned and Ilsabeth could see even more of Simon in the youth’s face. “Only the king himself is heavily guarded today.”
She nodded. “I recalled that when I screeched after Malcolm spoke. That should have brought a few guards running. Of course, ye shouldnae have been able to come in here without a guard, either.”
“Tell us about Simon,” said Kenneth. “We need to ken the mon we are about to see.”
That made sense and might even ease what could be a very awkward meeting.
Ilsabeth did her best to tell them all she knew about Simon, including all they had been doing to get proof about Henry’s treasonous activities.
By the time she had finished, all three brothers were looking at her with faint smiles.
“I dinnae think I told ye anything funny,” she murmured.
“Ye love him,” said Malcolm.
She felt a blush sting her cheeks and glared at him. “I do not recall saying so.”
“Ye didnae have to say. We all heard it. ‘Tis clear ye havenae told our brother so dinnae fear we will.” He stepped back and looked at her prison. “I suspect that, if all ye said about Simon was true, he will have ye out of here verra soon.”
“I am praying for that.”
They said their farewells, a subtle promise to see her again underlying each one.
Ilsabeth sighed, wishing she were free so that she could see that re-union.
Even though they had never had a real chance to be brothers because of Henry, it was never too late to try.
She would just have to be satisfied with the fact that something she had said while talking of Simon had convinced them to search him out.
She grimaced as she looked around her prison.
And she also hoped they did not get so caught up in it that they forgot she was still down here.
Ilsabeth was beginning to get worried that she had been forgotten when she heard someone approaching.
The quick stab of anticipation that quickened her heart faded abruptly when David Hepbourn stopped in front of her cell.
He looked worn, tired, and as if he was grieving for someone.
She quickly pushed down the twinge of sympathy that softened her anger and stared at him.
“What are ye doing here?” she asked.
“ ‘Tis over, ye ken,” he said. “Walter and Henry Innes are being taken to the king.”
“So, ‘tis all over,” she murmured, and wondered why she was not free yet. “My family can go home.”
“Aye. Ilsabeth, I have come here to beg for your forgiveness.”
“There is no need.”
“Oh, aye, there is. I was a part of it all. I didnae feel it was right to place the blame for a murder on you but I did naught to stop it. I heeded every word Walter said and blindly followed. For that, I was willing to let ye pay for what he had done. I pushed away all doubts and heeded Walter’s slander against your kinsmen. ”
“Nothing to fret about. They have been called worse.”
His smile was faint and fleeting. “It still wasnae right. For that unkindness, and for this, I beg your forgiveness.”
“Then ye have it. And, I am sorry about Walter, David. I ken that ye loved and trusted him. What will ye do now?”
“Weel, it seems that, because I turned him in as a traitor and helped them catch so many of the others, I will retain most of Walter’s property. The king rather liked Walter’s father and doesnae want it to leave the hands of a Hepbourn.”
“Walter’s mother must be stricken with grief.”
“She is and she has already left for her sister’s for she says she cannae stay here while they murder her son and she cannae stay in the same house with the mon who handed her bairn over to the king as I did.
There are a great many things she said but a few made me certain she kenned exactly what Walter was doing and approved.
She thought Walter deserved to be a king. ”
“But, it wasnae Walter who was to be the king, nor did he particularly wish to be.”