Amanda Scott (38 page)

“I want Henry,” Rob said. “We’ve more to do yet, and I’m thinking we’ll want to do it quietly. I don’t trust Fife any more now than I did a half hour ago.”

“Henry means to return to Edinburgh tonight,” Michael said. “But I’ll send men now to clear all the approaches to the gorge and guard them. I doubt Fife will return as long as he suspects the Douglas may still be here.”

“Where is Douglas, and how did you alert him?”

“Sakes, I don’t know where he is. I know only that Henry said he’d left Edinburgh. But the Douglas fighting banner is just a red heart on a white field. My mother was able to conjure up several in less time than it took to gather my army.”

Adela was talking with her sisters and the countess, doubtless answering dozens of questions about her marriage and the intervening days. But it occurred to Rob that he knew a sure way to assuage her anger with him, whatever had stirred it. Moving closer to Michael, he said quietly, “I’ll be taking Adela with us when Henry and I return to that cut, Michael, so make damn sure we’ll be safe.”

Michael’s jaw hardened before he sighed and said, “You are badly smitten, my friend, to dare to suggest I’d risk Henry’s life or yours, let alone Adela’s, when I have power to prevent harm to all of you. You know our men are loyal.”

“I know that someone told Fife that Einar Logan and I are the same,” Rob said. “But it may not have been one of ours, and you’re right about my feelings for my lady wife. Seeing her in Fife’s arms scared the liver and lights out of me.”

“I know,” Michael said, looking not at Adela but at his own wife.

“There is one thing more,” Rob said. “I don’t want anyone else to be in the gorge with us, or any hint that we’re there, for that matter. But I do want a strong tail ready to ride later tonight if I need one.”

“You are certainly wearing your baron’s mantle more comfortably,” Michael said with a wry smile. “You shall have all you request, my lord. Dare I ask why?”

“Because if I find what I expect, I’ll want to have a talk with the good Abbot of Holyrood,” Rob said. “If I know my lass, she’ll insist on riding with me to speak to him, and after what she’s accomplished today, she deserves to go.”

Chapter 20

D
usk had fallen before Adela, Rob, and Henry made their way into the densely wooded cut, but from that point on, things moved swiftly. The huge central slab pulled away from the other two more easily than they had expected, revealing a three-foot-wide opening in the hillside.

“Sakes, look at this,” Henry muttered as he felt the inner edge of the opening. “This slab is hung on hinges, Rob, fixed somehow into that other rock.”

“Take this torch, Henry,” Rob said, handing it to him. “We’ll light mine and keep yours to use if we need it.”

While he stepped into the passage to light his, Adela looked back the way they had come. Rob had said Michael and his men were guarding all the approaches to Hawthornden and this part of the gorge, and she knew no one in the castle could see them in the cut, even from the ramparts. Nor could anyone hear them from more than a few feet away over the din of the rushing river. She still felt nervous, although she fairly tingled in anticipation of what they hoped to find.

“Doubtless, one of us should keep watch out here,” Henry said. “But I’m damned if I will, and I suspect you won’t consent to do so, Rob, or leave Adela.”

“We’ll trust Michael,” Rob said, leading the way and holding the torch high.

Adela followed him into the passageway with Henry right behind her. Compared to the first time she had been in such a place, this was less frightening. The odds that anyone could surprise them now were much smaller.

Rob stopped, and the silence of the passageway closed around them.

“A second passage takes off here,” he said, holding his fair copy of the map to the light. “If this is right, we bear left here at this first one.”

“Aye, that’s right,” Henry said, looking at his own map.

Their confidence that it was the right place increased as they proceeded. Men had widened the passage they followed, and the ground was smooth, nearly free of obstacles. Although they had not been walking for long, they had made three turns.

Adela dared not trust her sense of direction, and neither man commented.

Abruptly, the passage opened into a wider chamber.

Rob held the torch higher, and light glittered from crystalline formations. “Wait here,” he said. “The path ends here, so there may be pitfalls.”

Adela heard water dripping.

“Is there not a symbol on the map at the end of that line?” Adela asked.

“Just a small square,” he said.

“Like a treasure chest?” Henry asked.

“Just a square, Henry. God knows what it means.” He began walking slowly away from them, holding the torch well out in front of him. He was halfway across the chamber when he stopped still. He did not say a word. He just stood there.

“What is it?” Adela asked quietly.

“Come see,” he said.

Rob heard them walk up behind him, but had it been Fife himself coming to arrest him, he could not have taken his gaze from the Stone.

It was dark, either polished marble or basalt, a block as high as his knees. It looked to be about a foot and a half deep, nearly a yard wide, and it was carved and gilded with designs that gleamed eerily in the light of his torch—spirals, a harp, a Pictish boar, and a lion among others. He discerned less visible traces of carved lettering that looked to be Gaelic or Latin. The Stone had feet, balls carved like an eagle’s claws, and front corners carved to resemble reptile legs, possibly lizards.

“What are these?” Adela asked, moving closer to touch one of a pair of hooks fixed into the side nearest her. A second pair adorned the opposite side.

Rob and Henry exchanged looks, and Rob said, “I’d guess they are there so men can transport it on two stout poles.”

“So this is the true Stone of Scone?”

“Aye,” Rob said. “Look here at the seat. It bears a foot-print, I think.”

“Like the Isles’ Footprint Stone,” Adela said.

“They were said to be gey similar,” Henry said. “What’s more, this one looks just like what one sees on official seals made after earlier coronations.”

“I’ve seen the Footprint Stone,” Rob said. “Donald stepped onto it barefoot at his installation. This looks as if one is to sit on it, despite the footprint.”

“Mayhap one did both,” Adela suggested. “That would make sense if the rightful king had to fit the foot-print before he could sit.”

Henry smiled. “I don’t think they had to fit the print,” he said. “Some just thought the man they’d selected would make a great ruler if his did. What do you want to do about this, Rob? I’m thinking it may not be safe to leave it here now.”

Rob frowned, then said musingly, “It’s been safe enough since they brought it here. However, thanks to de Gredin, Fife now believes the Templar treasure is in Scotland. Moreover, he believes the Sinclairs know where it is, and he told Adela he expected his questions of her to reveal whether I also know or if I know the whereabouts of something even more valuable, something that would gain him the Scottish crown if he could find it. I’m guessing the Stone is what he meant by that.”

“Aye, sure,” Henry said. “To find the Templar treasure would be a grand thing by itself, but the Scottish nobility would not support Fife against Carrick simply because of untold wealth. Indeed, such wealth in his hands would more likely create increased friction. If he found the Stone, though, he could argue that Bruce’s notion of passing the succession to the eldest son is wrong, that the son who’d found the true Coronation Stone is proven worthier just by finding it. Most nobles already agree that Fife would make a stronger king than Carrick. They don’t like him, but nearly all would support him if he produced the Stone. What I don’t understand is why he thinks you might know its whereabouts.”

Adela said, “Is it possible he simply thinks the Stone may be hidden with the Templar treasure?” When she saw Rob exchange a look with Henry, she added, “Recall, too, sir, that the chevalier told us that when he first approached Fife, the earl said he was the second one to mention secrets to him in as many weeks.”

Rob grimaced. “Will! Doubtless seeking favor of some sort by revealing his own suspicions, though heaven knows why he’d wait so long to do so.”

Henry shrugged. “Fife was in no position to grant favors until this past year when he began to take over so many of the King’s duties.”

“And the King was far less likely to suffer the attentions of such a self-serving sycophant as Will was,” Rob said grimly. “But you make a good point, lass, in suggesting that Fife may believe the Stone and the treasure are one and the same.”

“Which makes my point that we should move the Stone,” Henry said. “If Fife begins his own search in earnest, Roslin Glen is the first place he’ll look.”

“But how can we move it?” Adela asked.

“Someone moved it here,” Rob said.

“Even so, we can’t move it tonight. What are you going to do now?”

Rob looked at Henry. “Do you still plan to ride to Edinburgh tonight?”

“Either tonight or early in the morning. Michael did tell me that you’d requested—I think he said ‘demanded’—a large fighting tail tonight.”

Rob nodded. “Just how sure of himself do you suppose Fife is if neither Douglas nor Sinclair poses an immediate threat to him?”

“As sure as you’d want him to be,” Henry said with a twinkle.

“That’s what I thought, myself.”

“What else are you thinking?” Adela asked Rob mildly.

His wry smile told her he knew she was still angry with him. But he said only, “I think your gallant chevalier should return to Edinburgh with Henry.”

“I hope you have better reason for that than a belief that I shall enjoy his company,” Henry said.

“I mean to take him into our confidence,” Rob said. “I’ll tell him I want him to ride with you as a diversion, in the event that Fife is keeping a watch out for us. I’ll say I want to talk with the abbot about information I gained at Lestalric.”

“You expect him to tell Fife, and Fife to believe you have the information he wants, whether ’tis treasure, Stone, or both he seeks,” Henry said. “But he’ll be ripe to murder de Gredin afterward, will he not? Sakes, he’s ripe for murder now.”

“Then take de Gredin to Orkney with you,” Rob suggested. “If you can, I’d like you to leave for town in a couple of hours. Adela and I will follow.”

“I can leave whenever you like, but I did intend to slip out and meet my ship at Leith unbeknownst to Fife,” Henry reminded him.

“Aye, sure, but I need you.”

“You’ve grown impertinent, sir,” Henry said severely.

“Have I?” Rob said. “More than before?”

Henry chuckled.

“You’ve nowt to worry you, Henry. Even Fife will hesitate to confront
you.
But come now, both of you. We need to close this place up again.”

“But what will you do about the Stone?” Adela asked.

“Henry and I must confer about that,” Rob said. “But not now.”

She nodded, feeling virtuous for not pressing him further. She had said nothing about his having kept the secret of the locked door to the caves from her, not wanting to risk angering him too much lest she miss this expedition. Nor would she risk being left behind when he rode to Edinburgh.

She would hold her peace until she was ready to have it out with him. But have it out with him, she would.

Not much to Rob’s surprise, de Gredin agreed at once to ride to town with Henry, assuring him so fervently that he’d not tell a soul about Rob’s plans that Rob was tempted to tell him he could inform anyone he liked. He resisted the urge, having no more faith in the chevalier’s integrity than he’d had from the outset.

De Gredin was just bait in a trap.

Later, as Rob lifted Adela to her saddle before their ride to Edinburgh, he wondered when she would speak her mind to him. She had chatted amiably enough as they ate supper, but he had sensed her tension then and he still sensed it.

She was biding her time, and although he wondered what he had done to displease her, he was sure she would tell him in her own good time.

Gossamer mist veiled the moon again, but the nights were growing warmer.

As he swung onto his saddle, he realized that although his shoulder ached from the day’s exertions, the real pain was nearly gone. Adela had smeared more of the salve on the wound for him, but he’d needed no more of Isabella’s willow-bark.

Henry had a large party of men with him, but Rob and Adela had a tail of a dozen well-armed ones, including Archie Tayt, whom Rob decided to send ahead.

“Stay off the main track,” he told him. “We want to know if anyone is waiting for us, so be wary. Although we’re not carrying torches, they’ll be able to see us if they’re on the watch, unless this mist thickens till yon moon disappears altogether. Oh, and before you leave, Archie, tell the others to drop back a bit.”

“Aye, sir,” Archie said.

“Now then, lass,” Rob said as soon as he could be sure they were beyond earshot of anyone else. “My head is yours for the washing. What have I done?”

Surprised, Adela looked at him, trying to determine if he was girded for battle or merely curious. Even in the pale light cast by the hazy oval moon, she could see his eyes dancing.

“Would you laugh at me, sir?”

“Nay, lass. ’Tis only that you look so solemn and serene, although I ken fine that you want to shred my character. I don’t look forward to it, but if I have done aught to anger you, I should know what it is, should I not?”

“’Tis your secrets again,” she said. “You showed me the door to the caves under the castle but not the trick to open it. So when I realized I could not get down that rope before Fife would be upon me—if at all—I had nowhere else to go.”

“I don’t suppose you considered the pit,” he said.

She looked at him.

“Nay, I suppose not.” He grimaced. “You are right to be angry, lass. That was a dangerous oversight, and I do apologize for it. You cannot imagine what went through my head when I saw that rope hanging down and the sally port open. All I could think was that if you’d attempted to escape that way and fallen, I’d never forgive myself for having shown you that rope. Little did I realize I’d endangered you more by neglecting to show you the trick of the door. I’ll show you how it works as soon as we return to Hawthornden.”