The Firebrand (40 page)

Sir Peter, the warlike priest standing by the cross, was the last one who finally gave her a nod of acceptance.

Adrianne forced herself to absorb as much as she could as various members of the assembly spoke to her. Gradually, the information about the Knights of the Veil and her father’s lifelong involvement became known to her. It all made sense, now. All the memories from her childhood. All the visits by scholars and priests and knights from all over Europe.

They told her, then, that the Treasure of Tiberius did not belong to the Percy family. Her father had only been a guardian of the sacred trust—the
Keeper of the Map
, they called him. What clearly distressed many of them was the way her mother had divided the map to Tiberius and sent the three sections into three remote corners of Scotland, where Adrianne and her sisters had been sent. Instead of condemnation though, many of the knights simply expressed their commitment to securing the treasure, while others assured her that they would find Lady Nichola and deliver her from their enemies.

There was one bit of information that struck Adrianne with the force of a blow. Her mother’s abduction had been planned and executed by the Knights of the Veil themselves as a ploy to bring back the maps to Tiberius. From the start, there had been no intention of handing Nichola to King Henry of England. Moved from castle to castle, her final stopping place had been at Sir Henry Exton’s keep in the Borders region.

“And there, Adrianne, your mother accepted my proposal of marriage. We were wed nearly a month ago.” Sir Henry’s blue eyes showed his inner torment. “But the very protection that I promised her with my vow of marriage, I failed so miserably to provide. Lady Nichola vanished one day in spite of my diligence.”

“Sir Henry, you have no idea where she went or who abducted her?” It seemed as if these were the first words she had spoken since entering the chamber.

Henry’s gaze cleared as it met Adrianne’s. A silent message passed between them that both understood. In his eyes she could see gratitude for her acceptance of the marriage. He had always been a true friend to her family. Adrianne knew he still cherished that position.

“It appears she may have been tricked into going. The morning of her disappearance, she had requested an audience with a priest.” He frowned fiercely. “Though I had no knowledge of his arrival, I believe the priest who went to see your mother was Benedict, the monk well known to your parents and your family.”

“Benedict was, until recently, a trusted member of this Brotherhood,” Wyntoun added. “We have strong suspicions now, however, that the monk has only his own interests at heart.”

“We received word that Benedict secretly met with Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury, during your father’s imprisonment,” one of the knights said.

Sir Henry Exton gazed steadily into Adrianne’s face. “The Treasure of Tiberius has always been more myth than truth to those outside of our circle. We believe that Benedict went to Thomas Cranmer to confirm the existence of it and to seek assistance—and funding—in his quest to possess it. The glory of possessing such a treasure would shine equally on all of them.”

“Though his early efforts to take your sisters failed,” Wyntoun said, “he must have decided that taking your mother was an even better target than you or your sisters. The monk thinks his abduction of Nichola will be the key to bargaining successfully for Tiberius.”

“But where would he take her?” As fury burned in her cheeks, Adrianne found her strength returning, as well. “Do you think he’s turned her over to Henry Tudor or Archbishop Cranmer?”

“Not yet. In fact, the word we get from friends of ours who are close to the English king is that Henry Tudor is completely unaware of both Tiberius and Archbishop Cranmer’s dealings with Benedict.” Colin Campbell stood outside the group surrounding Adrianne, and all eyes turned to him. “Keeping Nichola is the monk’s only chance of wresting the maps from you and your sisters. Though we’re not certain of the truth of it yet, we received a message this morning that Benedict was seen in the company of a group of outlaws who recently served under the banner of the late Sir Arthur Courtenay. They were traveling southward, toward Kilmarnock in Ayrshire.”

“Is there no way to stop him?” she asked with dismay, taking a couple of steps toward the earl and then turning back to Wyntoun. “Surely, they cannot be too far ahead of us.”

Wyntoun nodded in agreement. “But there are a number of well-fortified keeps in Ayrshire where they could be hiding your mother. And the first thing we must do before cornering Benedict is to make certain that Nichola will not be injured in an attack. Benedict is as ruthless as he is cunning. He surely will use your mother to ward off any direct assault by us.”

Colin Campbell agreed. “We also need to consider how committed Thomas Cranmer is to the pursuit of Tiberius. From what we’ve learned, I believe the archbishop is waiting for Benedict to bring him the glorious prize, so Cranmer himself can present it to the king. But we cannot be sure, and the last thing we want to do is create a situation that will bring English armies up against Scottish warriors. We are not quite ready to engage in another bloodbath.”

Adrianne knew that the earl of Argyll was talking about the battle at Flodden Field, where ten thousand men had died in a single day. She was well aware of this history from her mother.

“He will not harm Nichola Percy,” another knight put in. “Not so long as there is a chance he can trade her for Tiberius.”

“Benedict knows better than to think that the Knights of the Veil will ever part with Tiberius again…no matter what the loss of life might be!”

Wyntoun nodded in agreement with Sir Peter Wrothsey, the fierce-visaged priest. “But he also knows the stubbornness of the Percy daughters and their husbands. He knows they will do anything to save Lady Nichola’s life.”

Adrianne stared for a moment at Wyntoun’s face. His steely expression showed nothing of what he was thinking. She knew, though, that her mother would never be saved by turning over the Treasure of Tiberius to Benedict, or to Thomas Cranmer, or to anyone else.

***

The daylight filtering in through the high, narrow windows was growing dim when the meeting finally adjourned. Adrianne stayed behind with Wyntoun and Sir Henry and Colin Campbell, though, after the others had filed out.

The graying hair at the temples of the earl bespoke the maturity of Argyll’s years, and yet something about the man’s latent strength hinted at the vitality of eternal youth. He clasped her hand warmly in his own.

“I was as proud of you as I know your father would have been, were he here among us this day. You have his spirit and his courage.” He let go of her hand and clasped Wyntoun by the arm, giving him a fatherly smile. “You’ve done well, Blade. Better than any of us would ever have hoped for you.”

Argyll nodded to Sir Henry. “Celia is anxious to meet all of you. Come as soon as you can.”

As the earl left the chamber, Adrianne felt Sir Henry’s hand upon her arm.

“Adrianne,” he said solemnly, “I know that among your sisters, you were the closest to your father. I remember your mother saying that you were the son Edmund never had. ”

She smiled sadly. In her heart she sometimes wondered if this, perhaps, was part of the reason for her impulsiveness, for her recklessness in the face of danger, for her sheer enjoyment in going where her sisters would not go.

“I want you to know that I respected Edmund. I cherished his friendship. And for all the years that I was invited to spend time with your family, I never harbored a dishonorable thought regarding Lady Nichola.” Henry’s words rang out with the weight of his confessions. “But the years have passed, and my affection for your mother has grown so deep…”

She shook her head and moved toward him. “You don’t have to explain any of this to me, Sir Henry.”

At seeing the surprise on his face, she moved closer and hugged him tightly. His hands were bands of steel as they closed around her. “I know what a true friend you were to my father and to the rest of us. And I know how valuable your companionship could be to my mother now. So please don’t explain.” She looked up until her gaze met his. “Nichola chose you, and that’s all the explanation my sisters and I would ever need.”

As she stepped out of his arms, Wyntoun was there to take her hand.

“I’m riding south immediately,” Sir Henry said. “My men are hunting for Benedict now. We will keep our distance, but we will be ready when the time comes to get her back.”

“I know you will.” She nodded reassuringly at Sir Henry, feeling her husband’s strength feeding her own.

When Henry left the armory, only Adrianne and Wyntoun remained. She looked about the ancient chamber—the sacred cross, the cloth of blue. She remembered the respect the Knights had shown her husband. The Blade of Barra was clearly a hero to them—a leader in their cause—and Adrianne felt shame for all she had done to make his life difficult.

There was too much that needed to be explained. Too many errors she’d made that she had to mend. What she had heard clarified so much for her—Wyntoun’s motive for wanting the maps, his right to bring them back to the Knights of the Veil. And then, there was her false scheming that served to make him take her as his wife.

Aye, there was so much to explain, and yet she didn’t know where to start—or how she would dare to start! What would happen if there were no forgiveness left in him?

“Adrianne!” His large hand lifted her chin until their gazes locked. “We need to talk.”

“There was no ship,” she blurted out, deciding to start from the beginning. “At least no ship that would be of any use to you. ‘Tis true…I lied! I am sorry, Wyntoun, but I had to lie to convince you…”

“What ship?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“The galleon that I promised you…the one that belonged to my father. The one I said was still anchored on the Isle of Man.” She could feel her face burn with the weight of her guilt. “I told you that it would be waiting there for you, after you helped me rescue my mother.”

“Adrianne…“

She shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze. “I was deceitful. I know I said that my sisters and my mother would agree to give up the ship to you. I said that they would gladly relinquish their claim on it.” She wrung her hands before her. “Don’t misunderstand me. My family would gladly have let you have it, if there
were
a ship left worth having.”

He opened his mouth, but she pressed her fingers to his lips. She had to tell him all of this now. Suddenly, she couldn’t live another moment without unburdening herself of the guilt that had been weighing on her for so long.

“You see, there was a new-built galleon at one time, one that had been specially built for my father. But he never had the chance to sail it. A mishap on deck caused the vessel to burn at the quay just as the builders were nearly finished with it.” She stared down at the tips of her shoes. “I lied to you, knowing you were in search of a new galleon and…”

“Adrianne, I knew your father through the Knights of the Veil…and I knew about his misfortune with the burned galleon.” Wyntoun reached for her hand, his voice softening. “‘Twas no secret to me that there would be no galleon awaiting my men once our search was finished.”

She stared at him, openmouthed. “Knowing my lie…you still agreed to marry me?”

“Aye. And I have a confession, as well. Before you even asked me, I knew I would be marrying you. ‘Twas the only way to gain the trust of your sisters and secure the maps that your mother had sent to each.”

Anger flashed through her, but dissipated instantly as she looked into his eyes. Adrianne could see that Wyntoun was determined that no more secrets lay between them, and she felt the same way. He was choosing his words with great care, and she could feel his hesitancy. Wyntoun touched her cheek and held her gaze.

“But I would have married you, anyway. I think you knew I was enthralled by your beauty and your wit and your passion for life. And then later...I fell in love with you. Hopelessly, madly in love with you. You are my life, Adrianne. My very existence.”

The pooling of tears in her eyes and the gentle heat rising in her cheeks was a sweet picture of victory. But Wyntoun knew he couldn’t stop there. She had to know it all. He placed his arms around her and drew her closer. He would give her no chance to escape him until she’d heard this last confession.

“Adrianne, the actions I have taken have served to put your mother in jeopardy.”

“Nay. The Knights of the Veil ordered her capture,” she replied softly.

“At my bidding.” He felt her back stiffen, and he held on tighter. “I was staying at Blackfearn Castle, and your sister Laura was marrying my friend, William Ross. Already, I had been contacted by the monk Benedict and had discovered his twisted plans. Time was running short, and if we were not to find those maps ourselves, then Benedict or any number of treasure seekers like him could have succeeded before us.”

“You could have asked us for it, and we would have given it to you.”

“Would you?” he asked. “Why would you have trusted us—a group of men unknown to you? Why would you have trusted the Blade of Barra, a pirate whose motives must surely be mercenary?”

She continued to stare at him—without an answer.

“I was chosen by the Knights of the Veil to bring back the treasure, but so far as I could see, my only chance lay in convincing you and your sisters that Lady Nichola was already at the mercy of King Henry.”

“
You
ordered my mother’s abduction!”

“Aye. I knew that you and your sisters would go to any lengths to gain her freedom.” Wyntoun looked steadily into her eyes. “But I never intended her any harm. Although she was kept unaware, the people who initially took her were the very friends from the manor house she had just left. Later, we arranged for her to stay only in the households of people who had been allies of your father. She was a fugitive from the English king, so we made certain that she be moved often. We wanted her to fall into no hostile hands. That is how she came to stay at Sir Henry Exton’s castle in the Borders.”