Claire Delacroix (26 page)

The entire company raised their cups to this sentiment, though Abernye remained grim after he had drained his cup.

“Then, let me see her.” His voice rose in challenge. “Should all be well, as you indicate, you have naught to fear in letting me converse with my daughter.” He held the Hawk’s gaze in challenge. “Alone.”

The Hawk liked a risk, though it seemed he liked risk less in association with his lady wife. All the same, he would die afore he let Aileen’s father so much as sense his uncertainties.

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “It is only natural to expect a doting father to anticipate as much.” To his credit, the older man flushed slightly when the Hawk emphasized ‘doting’.

The Hawk began to cross the hall, then paused to glance back. “Tell me, does Blanche miss the company of her step-daughter? Any woman of merit would undoubtedly be dismayed by the loss of such a fine companion.”

Abernye’s flush deepened in a most satisfactory way. The Hawk held his gaze for a telling moment, then pivoted. He handed off his cup and might have made his way to the stairs had Guinevere not touched his elbow. The Hawk brushed off the weight of the whore’s hand, but Guinevere seized his arm again.

“Do not despise one who does you a favor,” she counseled, her voice low and luscious.

“Guinevere, you know that there will be never be affection between us,” the Hawk said with undisguised impatience. “Leave the matter be.”

“Perhaps I do, perhaps I do not,” she said with a smile. “What I do know, though, is that your lady is not to be found in her chambers with her spindle.”

The Hawk’s heart leapt with fear that Aileen had been injured.

Or worse.

“What is this? Where is she?”

Guinevere smiled coldly. “Your lady visits the spy, and one can only wonder why.” She examined her nails. “No less, one must wonder why she descended to that hole in such finery. Green samite from Sicily!” Guinevere whistled under her breath, then looked up knowingly. “What could a prisoner do to merit such attention from the lady of the keep?”

“Cease your poisonous whispers,” the Hawk bade her, but Guinevere only chuckled.

“Call truth poison if you will, Hawk, but one has to consider whether you erred in choosing a bride.”

The Hawk spared her a glance that spoke clearly of his thoughts. “Be gone by the morrow, Guinevere. I have tolerated you in my hall overlong. You and your “sisters” can find accommodation in the village from this night forward.”

The whore’s lips tightened with anger, but the Hawk had no care for her response. He turned and strode out to the bailey, intent upon finding his wife.

What folly did Aileen make? It was regrettable, to be sure, that they had parted poorly the night before, even more regrettable that her every choice fed his suspicions of her intentions. Sebastien and Ewen fell into step behind the Hawk, though they said nothing.

The Hawk had questions enough of his own. Was the Laird of Abernye in league with the MacLaren clan? The Urquhart holding had not been an affluent one, yet the new Lady Abernye clearly had a tendency to spend coin. How much would Abernye do to ensure the happiness of his new bride? Would he make an alliance with the MacLarens against the Hawk?

The timing of Abernye’s arrival was uncanny and made the Hawk restless: did the conspirators close their trap just when he was on the verge of his final triumph?

And how much did Aileen know of such a scheme?

* * *

The prisoner devoured the food Aileen had brought with unholy haste, then glanced up guiltily. He must have spied her horror afore she tried to hide it, for he smiled ruefully and dropped his gaze again. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but it has been two days since I ate.”

There was a pleasant roll to his speech, his vowels tinged with the fact that Gaelic was clearly his mother tongue. Aileen felt an immediate affinity with him, for she spoke the same way, as did all in her father’s hall.

Accents were many in her husband’s hall, and oft unfamiliar.

“They have not fed you in this dungeon?”

He shook his head and though she was outraged at this harsh treatment, he showed a surprising lack of bitterness. “I expected no less when I was seized,” he said, then summoned a smile for her. He drank the ale and sighed with contentment as he leaned back against the stone wall.

His eyes twinkled now and she felt the urge to return his smile. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart, my lady. I am much restored.”

“You are welcome.” Aileen hesitated, knowing that she should leave. But she would learn nothing if she did not prompt a conversation and she had not simply come to be charitable. “Even a spy is entitled to a meal afore his guilt is proven.”

The prisoner granted her a knowing glance. “Is that what they declare me to be?” Aileen nodded. He chuckled to himself, seemingly finding great amusement in this.

“Are you not one?”

His chuckles faded and he fixed her with a suspicious glance. “Were you sent by the Hawk to coax my secrets from me?”

“No, he does not know I am here,” Aileen said hastily, then regretted confiding so much information. “I came because it is the role of the lady of the keep to show compassion for prisoners and ensure that they have decent care. Were you injured, before your capture or since?”

The prisoner studied her with new curiosity. “The lady of the keep?”

“Indeed. I am Lady of Inverfyre.”

The man’s eyes widened. “The Hawk has wed?”

Aileen smiled. “Clearly. I am not of an age to be his mother.”

The prisoner did not smile at her jest. He rubbed his chin, his gaze flicking over the cell. “That is portentous news.” His bright gaze landed upon her so suddenly that Aileen nearly jumped. “Do you carry the fruit of his seed?”

Aileen straightened and stepped back, feeling her color rise as she did so. Nissa gasped outrage at his audacity. “You have no right to ask a lady such a question!”

“Though the answer would be most intriguing,” he murmured. He cleared his throat and smiled so abruptly that Aileen almost wondered whether she had imagined the comment and his sly manner. “I suppose your beloved spouse has regaled you with his scheme to reclaim all of his birthright, sworn that all of Inverfyre is his legacy, and vowed that the MacLaren clan must be ousted from his lands.”

Aileen smiled, letting the man think what he would.

“It is not a mere tale...” Nissa began, but Aileen put a hand upon her arm to silence her.

The prisoner granted the maid a hot glance. “Aye, it is the simple folk who believe such foolery.”

Nissa inhaled sharply, taking umbrage at his comment, but Aileen tightened her grip upon the girl’s arm. “There is oft a rift between the truth and the tale that all hears,” she said in a conciliatory tone.

“There is indeed! I suppose the Hawk has told you of his own heroic deeds and his noble destiny,” the prisoner snorted, showing some anger now. “What man would not wish to so impress such a pretty bride?” He spat into the rushes in the corner. “I suppose he told you that the MacLarens are no better than vermin, and that it is his duty to rid this fair land, his rightful domain, of their pestilence.”

Aileen kept her expression carefully composed. “You would not happen to be of the MacLaren clan?”

His gaze was sharp. “What do you think?”

Aileen shrugged.

The man lifted his chin, and his eyes glinted in his anger. “No doubt your fine spouse omitted many details from his tale. There are two sides to every story, of that you can be certain.”

“My mother oft said as much,” Aileen agreed. “Tell me your side.”

“Did he did tell you how he and his men arrived here eighteen years past and proceeded to slaughter our kin for no reason than his own greed for our land?”

“But I thought Inverfyre to be his legacy?”

“And whence does sovereignty begin, my lady?” The prisoner rattled his chains. “Answer me this, my lady: who held these lands when Magnus Armstrong came, just as the Hawk came, and claimed them for his own?”

“I do not know. Perhaps Inverfyre was mere wilderness.”

He snorted with vigor. “they were MacLaren lands, stolen once and now stolen again.”

“I do not think so!” Nissa protested.

“Believe what you must, peasant, but I know the truth of it. Righteousness rides with the MacLaren clan: why else do we hold the original site of Inverfyre? Why else does the chapel itself remain in our hands, if not for God’s favor of our cause? I know who is thief and who is rightful owner, even if the Hawk would tempt his lady’s ardor with fulsome lies.”

“What did you hope to achieve by coming here?” Aileen asked softly. “I doubt there are weaknesses in these stout walls.”

He regarded her for such a long interval that Aileen did not think he would speak again. His implication was clear to her: the weaknesses of the Hawk’s keep would be found within its walls, in people who would betray their lord.

She held his gaze, knowing he believed wrongly in this. Never had she seen such loyalty granted to a lord by his men as she had witnessed here, and Aileen knew it was because the Hawk was fair. Instinctively, she trusted him and believed in his cause.

What if this man planned some treachery? What if she could uncover the truth of it?

Surely that feat would encourage the Hawk to trust her?

What if she could persuade him that she was the weak link?

“Even if your cause is righteous, you can achieve nothing in this cell,” she said with apparent idleness. “It would seem your efforts were a waste.”

The prisoner glanced around the dungeon again, then to his shackles. “Especially as I am to be executed on the morrow.”

Aileen caught her breath, having known no such thing.

He watched her assessingly. “You did not know.”

Aileen shook her head, not disguising her horror. “Executed!” Surely he was mistaken. Surely the Hawk would not pronounce a fate so cruel.

But she suspected that the Hawk would do so, if he believed this man to be a threat to Inverfyre’s security. He had told her time and again that he took no risks with the lives of those beneath his hand.

The prisoner reached out and caught Aileen’s hand in his own. She jumped, but forced herself to leave her fingers in his grip. “I never guessed that he could be so cruel,” she whispered, feigning dismay.

The prisoner’s eyes narrowed. “It is not every noblewoman who would have made her way to this cell.”

Aileen smiled sadly. “Then, the world has come to a sorry crossroads indeed.”

His grip tightened upon her hand. “I suspect that you are one much enamored of justice.”

“We would be as brute beasts without it,” Aileen agreed.

The prisoner looked to Nissa pointedly.

“Nissa, go to the portal and call for Reinhard, if you will,” Aileen advised, guessing that the prisoner wished to confide in her alone.

“But, my lady...”

“Do as I bid you, Nissa, and do it immediately.”

The girl rose with reluctance and crossed to the door.

The prisoner leaned close and dropped his voice to a whisper. “For the sake of justice, I would beg a favor from you.”

“A dangerous favor,” she guessed.

“My kin will welcome you and see to your future, whatever happens, if you aid their cause. You risk naught in this endeavor.”

“Reinhard!” Nissa called and shook the portal in her anxiety.

Aileen felt her eyes narrow even as she whispered. “In what endeavor?”

“If the Hawk rides out from Inverfyre, my kin must be warned. Our sole hope of survival is if we are forewarned and survive until the king responds to our summons for his aid. My task here was to alert my kin if the Hawk rode out, regardless of the hour.” He glanced up at Nissa. “I was caught, but I have heard whispers from within this cell that the Hawk plans a final assault soon.”

“Reinhard! Make haste!” Nissa shouted, for Reinhard did not come.

“Should the king not decide whose claim to sovereignty is the most compelling?” the prisoner demanded, his eyes flashing. “Do you, a woman enamored of justice, deny the righteousness of this? We will stand by the decision of the king, but we will not willingly be slaughtered for the sake of a foreigner’s ambitions. If the Hawk kills us, though, the king will hear no protest.”

Aileen dropped her gaze to his grip upon her hand. He was lying and she knew it well. If the MacLaren clan truly had cause to dispute the Hawk’s claim, they would have appealed to the king sooner: the Hawk had been at Inverfyre for eighteen years.

The prisoner lied, but he must not know that she knew as much.

Aileen nodded carefully. “It is not easy to betray one’s husband,” she said, her voice low. “But you speak aright when you argue for justice. This decision lies with the king alone.” She looked up and met his gaze. “Tell me how I might aid your mission.”

His smile was immediate and bright. “Yours is a valiant heart!”

“Reinhard, hasten yourself!” Nissa cried.

The prisoner whispered in haste. “Three flaming arrows, fired high in quick succession, will serve as the warning.” He looked about himself, despondent to be acknowledging his failure. “They snared me while I slept. They took my quiver and bow, they broke my arrows.” He closed his eyes. “They laughed when they destroyed what was precious to me.”

Aileen’s heart clenched, for she felt a kinship with him over this destruction. A tear spilled from his lashes and he steadfastly looked away in his shame. “We may be impoverished,” he said, his voice husky. “We may be weakened, we may be hungry, but our cause is righteous. Do we not still avenge our kinswoman?”

Aileen did not understand this last comment but she nodded anyway. “Indeed, you are a most steadfast clan.”

The key tumbled the locks.

“Pray for me, my lady,” the prisoner whispered, his words nigh swallowed by the creak of the opening door. Aileen felt her own compassion rise. She spun to greet Reinhard, but her words froze on her lips.

The Hawk stood in the portal, Nissa behind him. His expression was impassive but Aileen felt the anger that emanated from him. His gaze flicked from her to the prisoner, though he made no comment upon her presence here.