Something akin to rage began to bubble up within Aggie. Frederick’s men, the men she had sewn handkerchiefs for, the men she had begun to consider part of her family, had been brutally slaughtered. Her husband had been forced to watch, unable to do anything to help them. And now, he was being held by the Bowie for ransom. There was no way for her to pay it. She had earned only a few merks, nothing of any goodly amount that could be used to pay for her husband’s release.
And this was all at her father’s order.
That infuriated her. Carefully, she pushed Ailrig to his feet. Shaking her head, embracing the anger, she stood and headed toward the horses.
Ian and Peter followed her, uncertain yet what she was doing. They watched with surprise as she mounted her horse. “If yer comin’ with me, ye better hurry,” she informed them through gritted teeth.
“Where are ye goin’?” Ian asked.
Aggie smiled. Not the beaming happy smile that Frederick had grown to love. Nay, this smile was filled with anger and malice. “To get me husband back.”
Thirty-Four
“YE DO REALIZE that Frederick will have our heads fer this?” Ian asked as they headed for the Bowie keep. This plan his brother’s wife had come up with was not only dangerous it also leaned heavily toward insane. Mayhap Aggie had inherited a wee bit of Mermadak’s darker side.
“I’ll have yer heads if ye do nothin’,” Aggie replied firmly.
Ian shook his head. Nay, ‘twasn’t Mermadak’s dark side that he saw in Aggie. ’Twas his brother’s stubborn side. Apparently, Frederick’s obstinate attitude had rubbed off on the wee lass. At the moment, he wasn’t sure who he should fear more; Frederick when he found out what they were about to do or Aggie if he didn’t follow her directions. Either way, the chances of him coming out of this unscathed and with his head still attached to his shoulders seemed less and less likely.
He took a deep breath and cast a glance toward Rose. She’d been awfully quiet for hours. He wished they could stop and rest so that he might have the chance to wrap his arms around her and tell her all would be well.
“How do ye ken so much about the Bowie keep?” Peter asked.
Aggie worked her jaw back and forth. “Me da and Eduard’s da were good friends. I visited their keep a few times as a child.” She gave an inward shake of her head at the memories of better times. “Eduard Bowie be a braggart, even as a child. One day, he was tryin’ to impress me and told me of the secrets his keep held.”
Ian looked at Aggie and shook his head for the hundredth time in the past hours. He never knew such people as Aggie, Rose and Ailrig. They were as good as the king’s spies at getting out of places. But were they as good at getting in?
They were miles from the Bowie keep when Aggie pulled to a stop and slid from her horse, with the other’s following suit. With a grunt, she removed the packs from the back of her horse and set them on the ground.
Ailrig’s stomach let it be known to his mother and the rest of the group, that he was quite hungry. It growled loudly. Ailrig covered his stomach is if doing so would make his hunger disappear. Aggie pulled a loaf of bread and an apple from her pack. She gave Rose the bread and Ailrig the apple. When she saw Rose’s pale skin and the dark circles that were forming under her eyes, she gave pause. “Rose, are ye well?”
Rose swallowed hard before nodding her head. “Aye.”
Aggie did not believe her. She placed a hand on Rose’s shoulder and pulled her away from the group. “Rose, if ye canna help, no one would hold it against ye.” Rose had been Aggie’s rock for many years. She was not accustomed to seeing her friend so miserable or quiet.
“Nay, ‘tisn’t that.” Rose said, sounding disheartened and worried.
“Then what is wrong?”
Rose took a deep breath and wiped away a tear. She was hesitant to say what she was truly thinking.
“Ye be worried what will come of us if Frederick be dead?” Aggie stated only what she too had been thinking for the past several hours.
Another tear trailed down Rose’s cheek as she guiltily nodded her head. “I’m sorry, Aggie, I canna help it!”
Aggie wrapped her arms around Rose and hugged her tightly. “Do no’ worry it, Rose. I’ve been wonderin’ the same. But I canna think about that now. I have to believe he’s still alive. My heart willna let me think otherwise. But I can promise ye that no matter what happens this night, we’ll no’ be goin’ home. I dunnae where we’ll go, but it won’t be back to McLaren lands.”
“Nay, ye won’t.” Ian had stepped forward, not to eavesdrop but to see how both women faired. “If Frederick is no longer with us, ye’ll come back to Mackintosh lands with me and Peter.”
Rose let go and turned around to look at him. Aggie began to feel like an intruder as these two people, who were obviously in love with one another but were, for whatever reasons terrified to say so, stared at one another. A twinge of guilt tugged at her stomach when she saw how Ian was staring at Rose. She wished Frederick had looked at her that way, at least once.
Having had enough of the two of them fighting what she considered to be the inevitable, Aggie shook her head in frustration. “Och! Will the two of ye just kiss and get it over with?”
They both looked at her then, as if she had grown another head. “Ian, I ken ye love Rose and I ken that Rose loves ye. Why ye fight it, I dunnae, but I’m growin’ quite tired of it. Profess yer love to one another now so we can have clear heads and hearts when we go to get me husband out of that bloody keep!” She threw her hands into the air and walked back to Peter and Ailrig.
AGGIE HAD RETRIEVED one of the packs and stepped behind a tree to change. Whilst she stripped out of her dress and into the extra pair of woolen trews she had packed for Ailrig, the damp night air rushed over her skin. The trews were a bit tight, but they would simply have to do for now. Thankfully, Ailrig was growing like a weed this past year and was nearly as tall as she. Next, she donned Frederick’s tunic. Cinching a belt around her waist, she tugged at the tunic and tucked it just so, so that it would look less like a dress and more like what it truly was.
She pulled on her old boots and grabbed the cowl and slipped it on over her head, making sure her braid was tucked in under the shirt. Aye, she might look a wee ridiculous at the moment, but she couldn’t do what she planned wearing a blue silk gown and fancy slippers. She needed to look like a poor boy. With her size and build, she didn’t think it would be too far of a stretch. For once, she was glad for her flat bosom and slender torso.
Once she thought enough time had passed for Ian and Rose to talk, she stepped out from behind the tree. “How do I look?” she asked.
The mouths of Peter, Ian, and Ailrig fell open and their eyes grew as wide as trenchers. Rose covered her mouth with a hand to stifle the giggle, a little too late.
Aggie’s brow furrowed. “What be wrong? Do I no’ look like a lad?”
Ian swallowed hard before speaking. “Frederick is goin’ to kill me.”
Her confusion increased as she placed her hands on her hips. “I told ye b-before, if ye d-do no’ do as I ask, I shall kill ye!”
Ian shook his head. “Ye do no’ understand, Aggie. Ye do no’ look like a lad.” He swallowed hard again. There was something seductive and alluring about her wearing those too-tight woolen trews and Frederick’s tunic. She may have hidden her long braid, might have thought she had done a good job at disguising herself, but she had failed miserably. It was her beautiful face, long, thick lashes, and shapely figure that gave her away. It mattered not what clothing she wore, she was still a fine looking young woman. He had to remind himself that this was his brother’s wife. He also had to remind himself that the woman he believed himself to be very much in love with was standing next to him.
Aggie huffed and shook her head at her brother-in-law before looking at Rose. “Rose, what do you think?”
“Well, I think there be no hiding the fact that yer a woman,” she said as she stepped toward her.
Ailrig spoke up, as he stared in shock at his mother. “Ye be too pretty, too clean and smellin’ too good to be a lad.”
Aggie smiled at his compliment. Rose eyed Aggie up and down. “Ailrig is right. Ye be too pretty for certain, and too clean.” She bent low, grabbed a handful of mud and began applying it to Aggie’s cheeks. After smudging her cheeks and forehead, Rose tugged on the tunic, lowering the hem to her knees.
Once she was finished, she stepped back and examined her handiwork. Twisting her lip, she gave a nod of satisfaction. “That be a wee bit better,” she said. “’Twill be dark where we’re goin’, so that will help. What do ye think Ian? Peter?”
Ian knew that if either of the women knew what he was thinking, they’d both hang him by his bollocks from the nearest tree. He cast a glance at Peter, who was suspiciously quiet and realized his friend was probably thinking the same thing.
Ian cleared his throat and turned toward his horse. “Just keep to the shadows, Aggie, and pray this works as ye think it will.”
AS THEY RODE toward the Bowie keep, the sky grew darker and the moon played a game of hide and seek with the clouds that threatened more rain. Aggie went over the plan again, in order to make certain everyone knew what they were to do.
“The Bowie keep is surrounded by a deep moat. Water is fed into the moat by the loch that is a good two hundred yards north. There be a long, wide trench that has gates on either end. When the moat begins to get to low, they open the gates enough to fill the moat. They say the moat is filled with the bones of those who have tried to gain entry through those gates.” Aggie shuddered at the memory of ghost stories Eduard had told her when she was very young.
“We won’t make the same mistakes for we won’t be goin’ in through the trench or through the drawbridge. We’ll be going in on the east side,” Ailrig said, proud that he remembered the plan.
“Aye, to the east,” Aggie said as she kissed the top of his head. “Much like the tunnel we used to leave our own keep, the Bowie keep has a tunnel of its own. But this tunnel is set with traps. This is where we must no’ get distracted, for if we make one wrong turn, we’ll be trapped under the keep and there be no way out. We will enter the tunnel from the forest. It will take us under the moat and to the first door. The door only opens out and it’s set with a spring to slam shut behind ye, and once ye enter there, ye canna turn back. Rose will be waitin’ there, to open it fer us once we get Frederick out of the dungeon.” Aggie cast a quick glance at Rose. She appeared to be far less afraid and sad than she was earlier. Now, she seemed very determined to do what she must to see this plan succeed.
“I do no’ understand why we canna wait until the men return with Rowan Graham,” Peter said to no one in particular.
“That could take a week,” Aggie said. “No’ only do we no’ have enough supplies to last that long, we do no’ know what Eduard Bowie is doin’ to Frederick. He might no’ have that long to live.” Aggie knew how sadistic Eduard could be and she was not willing to take the chance to wait.
She did not wait for Peter to question her plan further and turned back to the topic at hand. “Once we enter, we’ll go some thirty paces where we’ll come upon a second door, an exact duplicate of the first. We’ll need a good sized rock to keep it open while we continue on. As soon as we go through that door, we’ll need to take an immediate right. If we go too far, there be a hole in the ground that there be no hope of survivin’ the fall into, let alone bein’ able to climb out of.” She let the severity of her warning sink in. If they made one wrong step, they would fall to their deaths.
“Does everyone understand what they’re to do?” Aggie asked.
After each person gave a nod and an aye, Aggie began to pray. If all went according to her plan, she’d have her husband out of the Bowie keep before dawn. If not, they’d all be dead long before.
Thirty-Five
SO FAR, EVERYTHING was going according to plan. Rose was waiting quietly at the first door, while Aggie, Ian, Peter and Ailrig had made their way through the tunnels without falling to their deaths, and for that, Aggie sent a prayer of thanks up to Frederick’s kind and gracious God.
Now, the four of them were hidden in the shadows outside the kitchens of the Bowie keep. The kitchens were to their immediate right. Ahead, across the corridor, was the room Aggie needed to get to if this plan was to work.
Thankfully, there were not many people milling about in this area. Aggie had counted four thus far, and all of them appeared to be kitchen staff. Occasionally, the sound of laughter floated their way, coming from the gathering hall that sat somewhere to their left. It was impossible to ascertain how many people were gathered there.
Ailrig was waiting, rather impatiently, for a sign from Aggie that he should continue forward. She gave another glance up and down the intersecting corridor before looking back to Ian and Peter who were standing on the opposite side of the hallway. Ian gave her a nod that said it was now or never.
Aggie looked once again to make certain no one was coming. As quickly as she could, she crossed the corridor and made her way to the little room where a dozen kegs of ale were stored. She found one that had already been tapped, gave another thanks to God. She found a small stool that sat against the wall, grabbed it and positioned it beside the first keg. She stepped up and carefully removed the stopper and set it aside. Quickly, she removed the pouch she had hung around her neck earlier and pulled out a vial. Using her teeth, she opened the vial and poured the entire contents of the vial into the keg. Once it was empty, she replaced the cork and returned the vial to the pouch.
As she was readying herself to step down and return to Ailrig and the others, a young kitchen maid appeared with a tray of empty tankards. Aggie’s heart lodged in her throat as she quickly ducked down and came close to falling off the stool. She pressed her head and hands against the side of the keg to keep from toppling over.
The maid rested the tray against her hip as she set to filling six tankards with ale as she murmured under her breath. “I hope the bloody beasts drink until they’re dead!” She shook her head in disgust as she turned the tray to fill another tankard. “And so help me, if Ruddard grabs me bum one more time, I’ll beat him over the head with me tray!”
Aggie didn’t know who Ruddard was, but she knew his kind. A man who thought any lass within arm’s reach was his for the taunting. A smile formed on her lips as she listened to the young woman cursing and wishing Ruddard to the devil. Oh, how she wished she could tell the young woman that Ruddard would soon be wishing he was dead, especially if he partook of the tainted ale.
Once her tankards were filled, the maid left and headed toward the gathering room. Aggie breathed a sigh of relief as she flew across the corridor to rejoin the men.
Ian looked as though he could bite nails in half with his teeth. Peter looked mortified. Ailrig looked proud and anxious to do his part.
Aggie gave a gentle squeeze of Ailrig’s shoulders before sending him on his way to the kitchen. She didn’t like using her son in such a manner, but she truly had no choice. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she and the men waited anxiously for Ailrig to return. Aggie knew that if anyone could gain access to a room unseen, it was Ailrig.
AILRIG WAS QUITE proud of himself, but he knew from experience that pride could be his worst enemy. No one had paid any attention to him as he made his way into the kitchen. If anyone chose to inquire as to whom he was, he had a story already memorized that he would give. Luckily, he hadn’t had the need to recite it and within short order, he had obtained a tray, two trenchers of food and three empty tankards.
He was making his way down the hall, to head back to his mum, when he encountered a very large and very drunk man. Ailrig turned sideways and pressed his back against the cold stone wall to allow the man to pass. The man was holding on to the stone wall with one hand for balance as he walked. Ailrig held his breath as his heart pounded in his chest and did his best to be brave. He recited in his mind words that Frede
rick and Ian had shared with him. ’Tis alright to be frightened, but do no’ let it rule yer decisions, laddie. The words gave him comfort, helped to calm his nerves, as he waited for the man to pass him.
The man belched loudly, muttered a curse about bad ale and ugly women, as he slowly made his way past Ailrig. ’Twasn’t until the man rounded the corner that Ailrig allowed himself to breathe. Being a spy was one thing, for it allowed him to remain hidden and unseen. To be out in the open like this made his heart pound, his palms all sweaty and gave him the urge to pee.
Quickly as he could, he made his way back to his mum and the men. His mother looked very relieved to see him, while Ian and Peter looked pleasantly surprised.
Aggie made her way across the corridor again, filled the tankards as quickly as she could, and returned to the waiting men. In as low a whisper as she could manage, she set about giving instructions.
“We can gain entry to the dungeon by following this corridor,” she said as she gave a nod of her head in the direction they’d soon be heading. “’Tis no far, but we must remain quiet and unseen.” She did not wait for anyone to voice an opinion or ask a question before taking the lead and heading off to find her husband.
IT HADN’T BEEN easy making their way to the dungeon. Several times they had to stop and hide in the shadows as men were coming and going in all directions. But the closer they drew to the dungeon, the less populous the keep seemed to become.
Finally, they found the door that led down into the dark bowels of the keep. Ian took the tray from Aggie’s trembling hands and waited as she dug through her pouch again. She finally found the vial she was looking for, uncorked it, and poured four drops of the liquid into each tankard. “This will put them to sleep in a matter of moments,” she whispered as she returned the vial to her pouch.
“Ailrig,” she whispered as she bent low to look at him. “Please, be quick but be safe. Do no’ tarry long. Leave the tray and get back to us as quickly as possible.”
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 35