Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) (29 page)

The white-haired priest made no
response to the threat, but took his time finishing his prayer. He gave one
last look at the fallen monk before stepping past Sir Arthur, through the cell
door before them.

The Deputy Lieutenant, entering
behind him, walked over to a small wiry man who was stripped to the waist and
standing over the lacerated body of another monk. The cleric appeared
unconscious, his wrists tied above his head to an iron ring that had been
driven into the wall.

“Do you see what awaits you,
Abbot?”

The monk by the wall stirred. A
hand twitching, a foot moving slightly across the dirt, the man’s head lifted
in an attempt to see the newcomers. His eyes were nearly swollen shut.

“The fate of all men is the same,
Sir Arthur,” the abbot replied, bending over the badly beaten body. “But what we have to answer for, thereafter, will be quite different.”

“Do not try to frighten me with
schoolboys' tales, Priest.” He kicked at the naked leg of the monk. “This
arrogant fool has baited me and tested my patience for far too long.”

The abbot said nothing, but the
wounded monk opened his mouth, mumbling unintelligible words through puffed,
split lips.

“Not so eloquent today, it seems.”
Sir Arthur sneered at the man. He turned to the abbot. “I’ll tell you this, old
man. As the king’s deputy, I answer to one man in this world. And my solemn oath to Henry--God’s own anointed king--requires that I obey his wishes.”
Courtenay took the abbot’s cowl in his fist and dragged the older man up until
he could look directly into his face. His rasping voice was cold and harsh. “And he
wishes
to have the Treasure of Tiberius turned over to him.”

“Not...the...king...” the monk
gasped. He coughed, blood spattering the floor and the hem of the abbot’s gown.
He gathered his strength and peered up accusingly at the Deputy Lieutenant
“‘Tis...you! Not...the king...”

The abbot turned his gaze from the
monk’s broken face to the cold, haughty features of Sir Arthur. He shook his
head. “I have no knowledge of any treasure. This...this Treasure of Tiberius. I
don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You lie!” Courtenay spat, shoving the abbot onto the ground beside the other man. “Those Percy bitches did not start
digging the same day that they left. They
knew
someone would be
looking...and they took steps to hide the treasure.”

“I tell you I don’t know what...”

“I only came to know of the
treasure through this monk, when he came asking...nay, begging me to tell him
what their father knew!” Sir Arthur yanked the older man up again by the cowl
and stared menacingly at him. “If ‘twas not for me that they were devising this
merry ‘robin chase the worm,’ then who was to be the robin?”

The abbot gaped blankly.

“From what I have just learned this
morning, for weeks they were traveling to a number of the northern shires’
abbeys and monasteries. Don’t try to tell me that you don’t know where they
went--or when they were away from your abbey. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t
send someone after them!”

With a vicious butt to the abbot’s
head, the deputy turned and flung the aging monk against the rough stone wall.
Stunned and gasping for breath, the old man sagged and slipped down beside the
bloodied monk. Blood began to trickle from his forehead.

“From the first moment I learned of
this treasure, you have all been lying to me. But now my patience is spent.
That time is finished. I’ve already sent men to bring the Percy sluts to me. Between you two and them, I’ll get what I am after.”

Through the blood and the pain, the
monk bound to the wall still managed a hideous grimace that might have been a
smile. “You admit...‘tis you...only you...and you don’t...know...don’t know...”

The deputy loomed over him. “You
think you can bring on death just by baiting me? Nay, my arrogant friend.
You’ve got more pain coming than you ever thought possible.”

“I know...you...won’t kill me.
You...don’t know...what the treas...treasure...is.”

The mouth of the king’s deputy
curled at one corner. “‘Pride cometh before the fall.’ We will make you cry out
just for the sport of it. For now that I have the great abbot here with us, he
can...”

“I don’t know what you two speak
of, Sir Arthur.” The abbot was panting for breath, his face showing his
confusion. “True, the Percy girls were my charges for a time. But this...this treasure? By the Virgin, I know of no treasure.”

The monk let his head roll against
the stone wall and gave a choked laugh. “You don’t...know...he won’t know. ‘Tis
a secret!”

The Deputy Lieutenant gave the monk
a vicious backhand, causing fresh blood to spurt from his misshapen face.

“I know all I need to know. You
have told me so yourself. The Treasure of Tiberius is the greatest treasure in Christendom! Many have killed to possess it, you said.” His voice lowered to a rasping whisper.
“‘Twas the real--though secret--reason for an entire Crusade, you said.  But the whereabouts of it...now, that’s the mystery, you said. Until ‘twas learned that the
Percy’s...”

“You...know...nothing! Its
worth...its hiding...place...fool.”

Arthur Courtenay drove a fist into
the monk’s face, causing the man’s head to snap around and spraying blood
halfway across the cell.

“Well, my two buggering whoresons. Between the two of you, I’ll learn what I need to know before the first of
those sluts is brought to my lair.” The deputy nodded to his jailer to approach
the abbot. “And make no mistake about it. Before I am through, you’ll tell me
what you know about the Treasure of Tiberius...and those sluts will beg me on
their knees to let them lead me to it!” 

*****

As the heavy damask curtains were
pulled open, the late morning sun spilled in, chasing the gloom from the large
bedchamber.

Nodding her approval to the serving
woman who stood with an uncertain look by one of the shutters, Catherine gently
placed a hand on Susan’s sleeve as she passed and whispered something into her
ear. The younger woman nodded and hurried from the room without a word.

“Catherine Stewart!” the dowager
scolded from where she sat propped up with pillows in her bed. “It does not
please me to have ultimatums delivered to me in advance of your arrival.”

Catherine smiled at the departing
Auld Mab. The older woman paused only long enough to shoo another young serving
woman from her place on a small stool by the hearth. The dowager and Catherine
were left alone.

“Mother-in-law, I was not so much
issuing an ultimatum as offering alternatives for such a pleasant day.”

The dowager groused a bit and then patted the bed beside her. Catherine obediently moved closer and sat on the edge.

“And I suppose you call going blind
with all the coverings to the windows removed is a pleasant alternative to
being dragged outside into the gardens where I can catch my death?”

Catherine smiled cheerfully and
placed a hand on top of Lady Anne’s. “Do you know this is the first time you
have called me by my husband’s name?”

“You’re trying to change the
subject.”

“Nay, mother-in-law. I am glowing
at your acceptance.”

The dowager’s gray eyes gentled as
they met Catherine’s. “You are carrying a bairn. A bairn of my own blood
lineage. Despite all your stubbornness and willful disregard for my health,
I’ve decided to put up with you.”

Catherine smiled more openly.
Pushing off her soft shoes, she climbed onto the bed and tucked her feet under
her. “I told him.”

“Which part did you tell him?”

“All of it.” She beamed and
whispered, “I told him how much I love him, and I revealed the truth that I am
with child.”

The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

Catherine’s eyes rounded as they
met dowager’s. “That was all! I thought ‘twas enough.”

“Aye, for any man! But I want to know how he took it!”

“I
think
he was pleased.” 
Catherine could hear the note of uncertainty in her voice.

“I knew I did wrong not having him
beaten more as a lad. The spoiled, ill-humored knave! Is that all he said? That
he was pleased?”

Catherine bit on her lower lip and
watched the tempest brewing in the dowager’s face. She’d seen this in Athol’s
face, as well. In some ways, he was definitely his mother’s son.

“I think you are being too harsh on
him.” Catherine said at last.

“Am I?”

“When I told him that I am in love
with him...well...he was tender...affectionate. But at the news that he was to
be a father! Well! I think he was too stunned to explain himself. He
was...quiet, subdued. So I have decided to accept his reaction as being
pleased!”

In fact, the more Catherine thought
about her husband’s immediate response, the better she felt about it. He had
certainly been polite, nodding and forcing a smile--even hugging her and
mumbling something about how wonderful it all was. And then he had simply
retreated into his thoughts, obviously considering what it all meant.

“So you are not angry, child? You
are not going to run away to Elgin or flee on foot to the borders in search of
your mother for my son’s treatment of you?”

Catherine wrapped her hand around
Lady Anne’s. “Nay, m’lady. I believe my mother has enough troubles on her mind.
She has no need to be bothered with the day-to-day tribulations of a newly
married daughter. So I’m sorry to disappoint you, mother-in-law, but I am here
to stay.”

“Very well!” she said, pushing
Catherine’s hand away and trying unsuccessfully to hide her pleasure at hearing
Catherine’s revelations. The dowager pointed at the small chest sitting on top
of a table beside the bed. “Move that here, between us.”

With a questioning glance at the
older woman, Catherine did as she was told. Seating herself again on the bed,
she watched as the dowager removed a chain from around her neck. As Lady Anne fingered the key at the end of the chain, Catherine considered another conversation that
they had not quite finished.

“Do you know where your husband
took Adam after you asked to have the bairn taken away?”

Lady Anne looked angrily at
Catherine. “Young woman, you are not here to discuss Adam of the Glen! And I do not wish to hear that name mentioned again in my presence. Is that understood?”

Catherine stubbornly shook her
head. “I’m afraid I cannot agree to that, m’lady! As long as my husband is
tormented by the man and...”

“I have something of your mother’s
for you.”

The dowager’s words immediately
silenced Catherine. Her gaze moved from the old woman’s face to the key
dangling at the end of the chain to the chest that sat between them.

“She had a messenger bring this to
me right after I sent her the news that my son had forced you to become his
wife.”

“You have a way of corresponding
with my mother? You know where she is?”

The dowager waved a dismissive hand
in the air before turning the key in the lock. “Disregard what I just told you,
since even under pain of death, I will not again admit to what I just told
you.”

“But she is my mother, Lady Anne! I--”

“‘Tis her wish, Catherine! Do not
rebel against your own mother’s wishes. ‘Tis for your safety and the safety of
your sisters that she doesn’t want her place of refuge known.” The dowager
opened the small chest, took a small package from the inside, and handed it to
her. “Be content with the knowledge that she is guiding your lives from a
distance and...”

“What do you mean, she is ‘guiding’
our lives? She found each of us a safe home in her native land. Are you telling
me now that she is taking an active hand in...?” 

“Aye, aye, lass. Have it your way.
If you want to believe the moon...or some mushroom...controls your destiny,
think it so!” A secretive look flashed across Lady Anne’s wrinkled brow. “But open the packet and release me from your mother’s damnable curse.”

“Curse?” Catherine looked down confusedly
at the package in her hand.

“She sent this thing, swearing me
to greater secrecy than Moses knew in sending the Jews out of Egypt. And then she has the impertinence to write me that I cannot even die until such time
that I decide you are secure enough here to receive this package.”

Catherine’s fingers touched the
softness of the parchment, and a knot formed in her throat. Her mother had held
this in her own fingers.

The dowager leaned back wearily
against the pillows. “So, there you have it, daughter-in-law. Open it! I am
done with it.”

Quickly, Catherine turned and
dropped the packet in the dowager’s lap.

“If you think that you can die now,
simply because you have fulfilled a promise to my mother, then you are wrong.”
She shook her head resolutely. “I’m not accepting this.”

“Stop your babbling, you blue-eyed
harridan, and open the package.”

“Only if you stop talking as if the
angel of death were perched at your bedside.”

“Have no fear about that, lass.
There is no angel in this room...that I can see! Only a eldritch creature with
a sharp tongue and wit enough to worry me to death.”

Catherine frowned. “I do not find
that humorous, Lady Anne. I’ve become quite fond of you, and here you are
accusing me of...”

“Just open it, Catherine, before I
have Auld Mab come in here and toss it into the fire!”

Reluctantly taking the package
again from the dowager’s hand, Catherine broke open the seal and unfolded the
parchment on her lap. Inside of it she found a section of an ancient map, and
opened it, as well.

“She must think I am very secure
here to have forwarded this to me.”

The older woman peered down at the
marks and symbols on the vellum sheet. “What is this, Catherine,” she said
caustically, “the map to Jerusalem?”

“Nay, Lady Anne!” Catherine
whispered. “‘Tis a portion of the map to the hiding place of the Treasure of
Tiberius.”