The Key

by Lynsay Sands

  "'Twas most convenient for Greenweld that Duncan was called away when he was, do you not think?"

  Her face darkened. "No one saw the message," she whispered.

  "Aye. What if the dead man was the messenger? What if the live one was Greenweld's man? What if the reason the message went missing was that it did not say what they wanted it to?"

  "Gor," she breathed, her expression frightened. Then she frowned. "But how could they have been nearby all this time? Laird Angus had the woods searched twice. He even led the first search. And how could the fellow have gotten information to them? The gate is closed tight."

  Iliana sighed and shook her head. "I do not know. I have not pieced it all together yet," she admitted, then stiffened at a muffled sound from the door they stood in front of. Exchanging a glance with the servant, she quickly pushed the door open and stepped inside, Janna directly on her heels. Iliana had taken several steps before she realized that, not only was the bed empty, but the messenger was nowhere in sight. Just as she realized that, the door slammed closed behind them.

  Whirling, she stared at the messenger. He had been behind the door. Now he stood before it, sword in hand. Raising her chin, she eyed him coldly. "You appear to be well healed, sir."

  "'Twas a paltry wound at best," he said with a shrug. "Most of the blood on me came from Lord Rolfe's man when I killed him."

  Janna gasped at that, but Iliana merely let her shoulders sag slightly. "You are Greenweld's man."

  "Aye, but then, you had all but figured that out, had you not?"

  Iliana shrugged. "I presume that Lady Seonaid is all right, then?"

  "Aye. Lord Rolfe's message merely explained that they would be delayed. He did not wish her father to worry. Most considerate of him, would you not say?"

  Iliana ignored his sarcasm. "So, what do you plan to do next? 'Tis clear that now that you have been discovered, you shall not leave this keep alive."

  "'Tis not so clear to me," he disagreed easily. "All I need do is kill you and your companion and my secret is safe."

  Iliana ignored Janna's gasp of horror and forced her own expression to remain calm as she murmured, "I fear not. Laird Angus is aware that you were absent earlier. He also knows we came to check on you. Should we go missing you would be his first suspect."

  "Then 'tis good that that was not the plan."

  Iliana's gaze narrowed on him grimly. "And what exactly is your plan?"

  "Well, it was to take Lady Wildwood, and deliver her to my lord."

  "Take my mother to Greenweld? How the devil did you plan to accomplish that? The gate is down and the bridge up. There are guards posted."

  "I have it on good authority that there is another way out, Lady Wildwood."

  "Lady Dunbar," Iliana spat. "And there is no other way out."

  "I fear you are wrong. I've already seen it. It is a very narrow, presumably secret passage and opens only one way, from the inside out. 'Tis why I had to be inside, to allow the others in. They cannot open it from the outside."

  Iliana glanced sharply toward Janna. 'Twas obvious from her expression that if such a passage existed, the woman had no knowledge of it. She looked as uncertain as Iliana felt.

  "I was originally to take Lady Wildwood out. Holding her, it was expected that you would be forced to surrender the keep."

  "It would seem then that I have ruined your plans. You shall never get your hands on my mother now."

  "Nay, but I am sure you will do just as well. Unfortunately, I see no need to drag your maid along."

  Both women blanched at that announcement, but when the man stepped toward Janna, raising his sword, Iliana stepped before her. "I think not. Do you try, I shall surely shriek the stone walls of this castle down. How far do you think you would get then?"

  "Most like as far as I would did you not," he answered with vague amusement. "'Tis only women, children, and old men within the walls. Hardly a threat to me."

  "Then there is surely no need to kill Janna. We are but two women. What harm could we do?" she argued. "'Sides, should someone find her, they may be alerted to your plans. Angus may figure out where we disappeared to when we are not found in the keep. He could block the passage."

  He hesitated at that, then shrugged and lowered his sword slightly. "It matters little, I suppose." Reaching out then, he grabbed Janna and dragged her up to his side, then glanced at Iliana. "We are going to the burned-out room. You shall lead the way. Move quickly and quietly. Do you cry out or attempt to flee, I shall kill your maid. Understand?"

  Iliana took in the woman's frightened expression and tried to offer a reassuring smile even as she nodded at the man. She moved abruptly to the door when he gestured with his sword toward it.

  She had hoped that someone might find reason to be in, or enter, the hallway as they moved through it. However, they reached the room without incident.

  The bedroom she had slept in on first arriving at Dunbar was now mostly empty, and a sooty mess. Her chests were a charred mass at one end of the room, the floor-boards around and beneath them half-eaten through by fire. The other end of the room was empty but powdered with soot everywhere except for a large square where the bed had been, and four small squares where the legs of the bedside table had been.

  Pausing, Iliana turned to face the Englishman as he pushed Janna in behind her and slammed the door.

  "Over there. Beside the fireplace." He gestured with his sword, and the two women moved dutifully toward the wall. Following them, Greenweld's man kept his sword slightly up and pointed toward them as he felt along the wall. It was only then that Iliana noticed that some of the soot had been brushed away, obviously during an earlier search he had made, and she wondered briefly why he had not simply made his escape then.

  "He said 'twas to the left of the fireplace. A stone would move under pressure and the wall would open."

  "Who said?"

  He opened his mouth as if to answer, then caught himself and turned on her sharply. "Very clever, my lady, but I think I shall keep that information to myself."

  He continued his search then, and Iliana glanced at Janna. She wanted somehow to prepare her for an escape attempt, but the other woman was staring wide-eyed at their captor. Before she could get her attention, he gave a cry of triumph that drew her gaze back to him as the stone his hand pressed on began to slide backward with a heavy, low, grinding sound. The wall followed suit a moment later, opening into what looked to be a black hole. Greenweld's man frowned into the darkness unhappily, and Iliana could almost read his thoughts. He had not thought to bring a torch.

  Taking the opportunity while he was distracted, Iliana leapt forward and gave him a shove that sent him stumbling into the darkness with a shout. Whirling, she gave a stunned Janna a push as well, this one sending her stumbling toward the doorway leading to the hall.

  "Go!" she cried, harrying her forward. Janna regained herself enough to obey. Leaping at the door, she dragged it open and flew through it. Iliana was directly behind her when Janna crashed into her mother and Angus. It appeared Angus was prepared to return to the wall, for he was armed. Despite his weakness and having the woman slam into him, the man managed to keep his feet, and Iliana began to relax, thinking she was safe, but even as they all turned to look at her, she felt a hand catch in the short curls on the back of her head. When that hand yanked viciously, wrenching her head backward, she came to an abrupt halt, wincing as the icy edge of a blade was raised to her throat.

  For a moment there was silence. Iliana could hear her captor panting by her ear. She herself was breathing heavily as well but tried to control it, for each time she sucked in air her throat rose slightly with the action, pressing the sharp blade farther into her neck. Angus was the first to regain himself.

  "Let her go," he ordered grimly, pulling free of Lady Wildwood's panicked grasp and taking a step toward Iliana and her captor.

  Greenweld's man stepped back at once, dragging Iliana with him, and she winced as the sword edge pres
sed tighter to her throat.

  Angus stopped at once. "There is no where fer ye to run. Let her go unharmed and I'll make yer death quick."

  Iliana closed her eyes at that. Had Greenweld's man not known of the passage, Angus's offer might have held sway, but he did. Death was not his only option. She was not surprised when he gave a dry, breathless laugh and merely pulled her back into the room, cautiously backing toward the passage. Angus followed. Both he and her mother noticed the passage a moment later.

  "Nay!" she cried, hurrying into the room. "Take me. It is me Greenweld wants. Take me."

  Her captor stopped at once and Iliana felt his indecision. "Get her out of here!" she yelled at Janna. "Tie her up if you have to, but do not let her go."

  Janna's eyes widened; then she nodded with determination. She and Lady Wildwood were of a size, but the Scot was stronger from years of heavy work. She had no problem removing Iliana's struggling mother.

  Once they were out of the room, Angus closed the door. "Let her go and fight like a man," he demanded grimly, pulling his own sword from its sheath.

  "Another time, old man," Greenweld's man muttered, backing toward the passage again. "Stay where you are or I'll kill her."

  Expression grim, Angus stopped, turning his hard gaze to Iliana. "Don't fret, lass. We'll get ye back."

  Iliana just managed a nod before she was dragged into the dark passage and the stone door slammed closed.

  They were entombed in cool, black silence. Iliana stood completely still, waiting for her eyes to adjust, even as her captor did. It took a few minutes before she realized that there was nothing to adjust to. There was no light anywhere. They must make this trip sightless or return. Her captor cursed quietly and relaxed his hold on her neck to drop his hand to her arm. When she heard the scrape of metal on stone, she guessed he was using his sword to measure the width of the passage in which they stood, and testing to see if the path held anything that they might stumble on. Apparently assured that the way was clear, he began to move, dragging Iliana behind him.

  Rabbie burst into the room, Janna directly on his heels. Pausing to catch his breath now, he took in the grim expression on his laird's face and the way he glared at the wall beside the fireplace and frowned.

  "I was told ye wished to see me, me laird?" he said at last, when Angus did not acknowledge their presence.

  The Dunbar turned sharply at his words. He had been deep in thought and had not even heard them enter. "What are they doing?"

  Rabbie's eyebrows rose at the abrupt question. "Building another mangonel, I think, me laird. They are cutting trees and pounding away at something."

  Angus turned back to the wall. "They must still be in the tunnel then."

  Rabbie blinked in confusion at that. "The tunnel, me laird?"

  "Aye. A secret passage. The entrance is right there." He gestured at a section of wall that looked the same as the rest, then confirmed what Janna had said. "The messenger has taken me daughter-in-law through it and is headed out to Greenweld's men with her. I want this passage blocked. Set Ebba and Giorsal on the wall to watch the Sassenach, then fetch all the men who are left and begin bringing boulders from the bailey up here."

  "Boulders?"

  "Aye. I would have this entrance and the one in me own room blocked. The English'll not use it to sneak up on us."

  Nodding, Rabbie moved past Janna toward the door as the woman asked, "What of Lady Iliana? Greenweld'll use her to try to force us to surrender."

  Angus was grim-faced. "We shall stall fer as long as we can."

  "And when we can no longer stall?" Rabbie asked from the door.

  "Then we shall pray. Do as I ordered."

  Nodding, the stablemaster left the room.

  Her captor's curse was the only warning she got before Iliana found herself stumbling into his back as he stopped. It seemed to her that they had been inching their way through this hellish passage for hours. Completely sightless, she had stumbled along, dragged behind the man by a hand on her arm. She had tried to come up with a plan of escape as they had traveled. Unfortunately, nothing brilliant had come to mind. The floor, as far as she could tell, was smooth, uncluttered by rocks or boulders that she might have used to club him over the head. Not that he really gave her any opportunity anyway, not even when they had traversed the set of slippery steps hewn into the rock near the beginning of this journey. That had been a terrifying ordeal in itself.

  Sighing, she straightened from his back and waited. They were near the end of the passage; her nose told her that. The smell when they had first entered the tunnel had been stale and dusty. But for the past several minutes that smell had given way to the rich, dank scent of earth. She was positive that they were near the end of the passage, and she felt a mixture of relief and anxiety.

  She sensed her captor feeling around on the wall for something, and realized he must have set his sword aside to do so. Before she could take advantage of that fact, a portion of the darkness around them moved and light surrounded them. The light was like two arrows to her eyes after the darkness they had endured for so long.

  Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she nearly groaned aloud at the pain shooting through her head. Then she felt the hand on her arm tighten and was dragged, stumbling out into fresh air. Unfortunately, she had not been prepared for the abrupt jerk forward, nor the uneven ground that was suddenly beneath her feet. Crying out, Iliana stumbled and lost her balance, instinctively throwing her hands out to cushion her fall.

  Wincing at her stinging palms, Iliana blinked frantically, trying to get her sight back as she glanced about. They were in a small cave that opened out into bright daylight.

  A muttered curse drew her head around. The Englishman was trying to hold the passage door open, while stretching to retrieve a boulder a few feet away. But he could not reach. Cursing again, he raised his head to glare at her. "Fetch me that damn rock," he ordered grimly.

  Eyes widening, Iliana got carefully to her feet, hesitated, then turned and made a mad dash for the entrance to the cave and the sunlight beyond.

  Her captor began shouting at once, the sound bouncing off the walls and vibrating so that it almost deafened her before she made the mouth of the cave and started blindly across the clearing outside it. She had no idea where she was going. Truly, she had no idea even where she was, but fleeing seemed in her best interests. A plan started to form as she ran. She would run all the way to McInnes keep and fetch help back. She would be able to find her way; all she needed to do was stop and look for the towers of Dunbar to get her bearings. Which she would do just as soon as she felt she had gotten a safe distance away from Greenweld and his men.

  Her heart was already pounding fit to burst, but when her captor's shouts were finally answered by others ahead of her and she realized she was charging straight toward the enemy, her heart nearly jumped right out of her chest. Changing direction at once, she veered to the left just as a man broke from the trees ahead of her. Iliana managed a desperate burst of speed, but it did little good. Even as she sprinted toward the cover of the woods, she was tackled from behind and sent crashing to her stomach on the forest floor.

  She started struggling at once. Bucking off her attacker, she tried to lurch to her knees, but he had a hold on her skirt. Whirling, she turned onto her back to kick the man, and that was her mistake. The sight of Allistair clutching at the plaid she wore made her hesitate. Only a moment, but even that moment was too long, she realized, as he released her skirt in favor of the ankle of her half-bent leg, preventing her from either kicking him or fleeing.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  "Ye don't look overly surprised to see me, m'lady." Allistair was grinning as he eased to his feet. Reaching down, he pulled her up to stand as well.

  "Mayhap that is because I am not terribly surprised."

  His smiled slipped slightly, but he got no chance to question her, for Greenweld stormed into the clearing just then, his bald head shining in the sunlight and his flori
d face eager. That eagerness fled, replaced by fury, when he recognized Iliana.

  Her captor came charging out of the cave just then and ran straight into the path of his lord's rage. Catching the man by the back of the neck, he dug his fingers into the tender flesh there and shook him violently. "What is this? I told you to bring Lady Wildwood, not her whelp!"

  "Mother was not available," Iliana said with feigned sweetness when the man's mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. "He had to make do with me."

  She had expected her words to anger Greenweld; 'twas why she said them. Still, it took her by surprise when he suddenly released his man and swiftly closed the distance between them. Iliana took an instinctive step backward as he approached, but she was not quick enough to avoid the blow he gave her. He used enough force to send her stumbling backward to the ground again.

  "I shall take no sass off of you, brat! Do not make the mistake of thinking I will."

  Iliana drew a hand across her mouth, grimacing at the blood staining her fingers when she took it away, then got slowly to her feet once more. Facing him again, she shrugged with false bravado. "And you shall have neither Dunbar nor my mother. Do not you make the mistake of thinking you will."

  He drew his fist back again and Iliana prepared to dodge the blow this time, but Allistair tugged her roughly to his side and out of reach before either could finish their action. "Let her be. She is my problem. Treat Lady Wildwood as you will, but Lady Dunbar is mine."

  Greenweld glared at the Scot for his interference, then wheeled away and applied his fist to his man instead, slamming it into his jaw and sending him stumbling backwards to the ground. Bending down, he grabbed him by the collar of his tunic and jerked him back to his feet, giving him a shake as he roared, "You were to open the passage yesterday."

  "I tried," the man blurted quickly, forestalling the fist that was rushing toward his face again. "Really, I did, my lord. It was his directions." He pointed a shaking finger accusingly at Allistair.

  "I told ye 'twas the darkest stone to the left of the fireplace, Hugh," Duncan's cousin muttered with open disgust.

  "They are all dark. They are soot-stained."