Chapter 8
Isabail stood in the center of MacCurran’s roundhouse and slowly pivoted.
Daniel had asked her to search the camp.
She could think of no places in the old ruin where one would hide anything of value—except here.
Everywhere else, the walls were crumbling or the comings and goings of people made tucking something away impossible.
In truth, though, his quarters were no grander than hers.
Everything was starkly simple—a pallet on the floor, a brazier, and a leather sack stuffed with his belongings. A clan prepared to run at any moment.
Still, to be certain, she carefully searched the walls for any loose stones and searched the floor for any spot that looked recently disturbed. There was no sign of the queen’s necklace—or anything else of value.
She returned to Daniel with the news. He was lying on the pallet covered with a blanket, while Muirne patched the holes in his lèine.
“Muirne and I searched this room, too,” he said. “But found nothing.”
“Beathag said they had little notice of MacPherson’s attack and that they took only the necessities when the women and children escaped Dunstoras into the night. Perhaps the necklace is still there?”
“Nay,” Daniel said firmly. “He would not leave it behind. Not when he’s sacrificed so much to acquire it.”
“Then there’s really only one other place to look.”
He looked at her curiously. “Where?”
“The caves beneath the ruin.”
His face lit up. “Yes, I recall you mentioning a cave.”
“It’s not a large space, but it’s where most of the items they took from the fortress are stored.”
“That sounds like just the place.”
Isabail shared a look with Muirne. The maid was well aware that MacCurran had forbidden her to reenter the cave. “It’s very dark, and the tunnels are carved into the rock. We saw no evidence of another room or a vault of any sort when we were hunting for spices.”
“Nonetheless,” Daniel said, sitting up, “I am certain that’s where MacCurran has hidden the necklace. How do you access the tunnels?”
“Behind a granite slab in an old storeroom at the far end of the close.” Isabail frowned. “It will be very difficult to enter the tunnels without being seen. There’s always someone in the close.”
“You must find a way,” Daniel urged.
“I’m a prisoner myself,” she pointed out. “I do not have free rein.”
“At least you can leave this room.” Daniel smiled.
“You are a woman of great ability, Lady Isabail. I’ve always been amazed by your management of castle affairs.
I’m sure you’ll find a way back into the tunnels.
” He pointed to his shoulder. “As soon as I’m rested, I’ll start preparing for our departure.
My plan is to steal several horses and ride for the swamp.
We can lose any pursuers easily in there. ”
“MacCurran’s men are skilled woodsmen.”
“Fear not,” he said. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve. We’ll make our escape without difficulty. I just need the necklace.”
“Then Muirne and I will continue to look for it.”
“Be as diligent as you can,” Daniel advised. “I have no confidence that MacCurran will keep me alive. I am a burden and a risk.”
Isabail’s eyebrows rose. “Surely you don’t believe he will slay you after allowing me to tend your wounds.”
“You forget, my lady,” he said grimly, “that he was willing to murder loyal members of his own clan to get the necklace. A number of them fell to the same poisoned stew that killed the king’s courier.”
Muirne looked up from her darning. “If that were true, why would the clan still follow him? I’ve seen nothing but respect and loyalty displayed for him. No fear.”
Daniel shrugged. “No doubt they believe whatever tale of blame he tells. That just makes them fools.”
Isabail glanced away. Count her among the fools. Until Daniel had shown her the error of her thoughts, she too had swallowed the tale of the man in black. Aiden had spoken with such conviction and bitterness that she still had moments of doubt.
“A shame that we were unable to reach Edinburgh and the king,” Daniel said. “If he awarded this land to you, justice would truly be served.”
“Sir Robert felt that my claim was unlikely to win the day, because the king seeks more than justice—he has alliances to win and peace to maintain.” Which was why she’d been traveling to Edinburgh—in hopes of swaying the king with a personal plea.
“The king is a man with many favors to return,” Daniel agreed.
“If we escaped now, if we left without searching for the necklace,” Isabail said, “we might yet reach the king before he awards the land.”
Daniel met her gaze. “Possession would certainly allow you to rout the MacCurrans and search for the necklace at your leisure.”
“Aye,” responded Isabail eagerly.
“But there’s no guarantee the king will give the land to you, and justice for John is dependent upon gaining the necklace. Nay. This is our best hope.” His face grew ruddy with anger. “Any other plan runs the risk that MacCurran goes free. We must stay the course. We must find the necklace.”
Isabail sighed. She understood his desperate need for justice. Daniel was the only person who had loved John more than she. He had sobbed into her arms, quite unlike himself, for hours when John gave up his last breath.
Isabail’s father had beaten John black-and-blue over the years, threatened him with castration, and sent him off to be toughened in regions beset by war, all in hopes of ridding John of his “unnatural interest” in other men.
There were laws against such behavior, after all.
But Isabail had accepted her brother’s sexual preference, seen it as just one of the many facets that composed the fine man that her brother had been.
His love for Daniel had not made him a poor earl, as their father had feared.
John had been strong, decisive, and politically astute.
He had strengthened the earldom by becoming justiciar of Glen Avon and enriched it by hiring and training skilled weavers to craft their wool into fine, sought-after cloth.
Daniel, too, was a learned man, fluent in Latin, French, English, and Gaelic.
They had spent many an hour in heated debate over the political affairs of Scotland, England, and Europe.
If Daniel was convinced that gaining the necklace was necessary to see justice done by John, then so be it.
“If the necklace is here, I will find it,” Isabail vowed. “I swear it.”
* * *
Darkness settled over the glen, and a low mist rose off the snow. The moon was bright enough to see by, so Aiden gave the order to douse most of the torches. Firelight was visible for long distances, even between the trees. MacPherson rarely sent out evening patrols, but why take the risk?
“Did you succeed in getting the names from Lady Macintosh?” Niall asked as he returned to the ruin after standing the evening watch.
Aiden tossed his brother a cool stare. “After she discovered your healer in the camp? I think not.”
“But you returned to your quarters at midday,” Niall reminded him. “The men were taking bets on how long it would take for you to coax the information from her lips.”
“The men have more important concerns.”
“Aye, that they do,” said Niall. “And they’re ready.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Niall glanced at him. “It will be easier to break into Dunstoras than it was to enter Lochurkie.”
“Don’t underestimate MacPherson.”
The two men left the perimeter wall and made their way into the inner close, where a boar was roasting on a spit and the cook was handing out bread rounds. “He’s a sorry excuse for a garrison commander. Only a laggard fails to attend the lists.”
“He may be lazy, but he’s also smart,” Aiden said. “I’ve met him several times, and I assure you his wits are as sharp as fine Spanish steel.”
Niall used his dirk to slice off a piece of boar. “You’re not suggesting we leave our lads to hang for poaching, are you?”
“Nay.” It was galling enough that his people were imprisoned inside the very keep that once protected them. Standing by and watching them swing would be impossible. “I am merely warning you not to be cocksure. The guards at Lochurkie were not expecting you to break in. MacPherson will be prepared.”
“No one knows Dunstoras better than we do.”
“Agreed.” Aiden didn’t bother to repeat his warning; he simply stared at his brother as he ate his meat.
Niall acknowledged the message. “We’ll take proper care.”
“I’ll be taking the lead.”
Niall frowned. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Are you doubting the value of my sword arm?”
“Nay,” Niall said. “Fearing the loss of it. If I am captured, you can continue the fight. If you are captured, the fight is over.”
Aiden shook his head. “The clan will go on as long as a single MacCurran breathes. Our lads are under MacPherson’s knife because I failed them. I’ll not sit back while you attempt to free them.”
His brother shrugged. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“When shall we leave?”
“Gather the men. I’ll join you in a moment. Isabail has asked to see the hound.”
One of Niall’s brows raised. “Does it yet live?”
“Aye.” Aiden hesitated, then added, “Ana did a fine job with the beast.”
One side of Niall’s mouth lifted. “Do you trust her now to treat the rest of the clan without Master Tam hovering nearby?”
“Give it time,” Aiden said. “If all is well in a day or two, I’ll give her free rein.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Snatching his brother’s round of bread from his hands, Aiden strode across the close to Ana’s quarters. Nodding to the healer, he crossed the room and gently gathered up the dog. “I’ve found someone to care for the hound tonight. I trust you’ve no objection?”
“Nay.” She rolled up the dog’s bedding and tucked it under Aiden’s arm. Then she gave the dog a kiss on the head. “Sleep well, Gorm.”
Aiden crossed the camp, ignoring the broad grins he received from some of the men. Udard opened the door to his hut for him, and he stepped inside.
Isabail was seated on her pallet while Muirne braided her white-blond hair. She turned as the door clicked closed behind him. “Gorm!”