Gybbon grunted. “Aye. Cold. What had the mon done?” he asked as they paused at the bottom of the stairs leading up out of the cellars.
“He had stolen a bag of food scraps meant for my father’s pigs,” she answered quietly, shamed by her father’s harsh treatment of a man who had just wanted to feed his family.
A low whistle of shock escaped Gybbon but Harcourt asked, “So ye decided to go see why that mon had hated that cell so verra much.”
“Aye.” She shook her head at the memory of her foolishness. “Foolish but I had to see what would frighten a grown mon so verra badly. I think, too, I was ready to do anything to avoid watching that hanging.”
“Your father would make ye watch a hanging?”
She shrugged. “He said we should see what happens to those who break the law. But, I didnae want to see it so I went exploring in the cellars. The door to the cell the mon had been locked up in was open and the cell already mucked out. I think I must have bumped whate’er was holding the door open because it shut behind me when I stepped inside. I couldnae get it open again, screamed myself voiceless, and then had to wait for someone to come looking for me. Thought I would be searched for when Father saw that I wasnae at the hanging.”
“How long did ye have to sit there?”
“Three days,” she whispered.
Both Harcourt and Gybbon stared at her in shock but it was Harcourt who finally growled out the question, “They left ye in there for three days? Didnae they look for ye at all?” He winced, realizing that was not a kind or well-thought-out question.
“After no one had seen me for two days, aye, they started a search for me. My brothers just wouldnae stop asking where I had gone. They were nay the most loving of brothers and we are nay truly close, but for that alone I will ne’er turn my back on them. They pestered and pestered until my parents finally decided it was a little odd that no one had seen me for so long.”
“And it was there that ye found the rats.”
She shuddered. “There were so many of them and I think they didnae get much to eat. I had to sit on the cot with the slops bucket and a stick broken off the bed to fend them off whene’er they came round. I still came out of there covered in bites. So, aye, it appears I ne’er have gotten over a verra big fear of rats. And they do have little armies.”
“I have no words. Weel, aye, I do,” Harcourt said as he took her by the arm and escorted her up the stairs, “but they are a lot of foul ones I would like to spit at your parents.”
Annys smiled at him as they emerged back in the ledger room. “I suspect I have already used most of them.” She shrugged. “They are what they are, what they have always been.”
Seeing that Gybbon had left the room, Harcourt took her into his arms and kissed her. He had begun the kiss with sympathy in his heart but it soon fled beneath the onslaught of an aching need. Harcourt slowly turned and pressed her against the wall as the kiss deepened. He trembled when she stroked her hands up and down his back and desperately wanted to feel them against his skin.
Fighting to keep some control over himself, he eased his hand up from her waist and over her breast. The weight of it in his hand, the press of her nipple against his palm, made his mouth water with a need to taste her flesh. For a moment she pressed eagerly into his caress, but then that tension he dreaded began to return to her body. Knowing it was the last thing he wanted to do but that it was the wisest thing to do, he ended the kiss, put his hand back at her waist, and stepped back a little.
There was still a dazed look in her pretty eyes and the flush of desire still on her cheeks, when he looked into her face. Harcourt could not completely resist the urge to kiss one of those lightly colored cheeks. He was pleased when she did not flinch away from that kiss. Her resistance to the passion between them was slowly easing. He just wished he could find out what caused it.
“I will send a maid down to tend to his wounds,” she said as she started toward the door only to turn back to take the keys from him, lock the door that led to the cellars, and reattach the keys to her belt. “There should be a guard with the maid, aye?”
“Aye. I dinnae think the mon would hurt anyone but he is verra frightened and could do some harm if he tried to escape.”
“I will see to it.” At the door she again halted and looked back to the door to the cellars. “Did ye see where Roban went?”
“After the mouse.”
“How is that cat wandering about the place with such freedom?” Annys shook her head and left.
Harcourt stared at the door she had just locked and frowned. That was a very good question she had tossed out before leaving, although he doubted she fully understood the import of it at the moment. Cats were agile and could get in and out of places one would never have expected them to fit through. Yet that cat appeared in places where there really was no way to explain its presence.
There had to be some secrets David had never shared with Annys. Another bolt-hole or some passages in the walls. It was the only explanation. Cats might be clever and agile but they could not climb up stone walls to squeeze through a narrow window or walk through those same walls. As far as he knew, animals did not know how to open doors or turn into spirits that could slip past you as you opened doors. The door to the bolt-hole she had mentioned needed the keys she carried but he would get her to show him where it was. But, in this keep there had to be ways to sneak in and out that Annys did not know about. He grew more certain of that by the minute. He just had to figure out a way to search for them without letting any of those secrets become too well known.
Inspired and fleetingly praying he did not end up looking like an idiot, he went to find Callum. That man had been forced to learn how to hide and how to find the ways in and out of a place at a very young age. Over the years, even as his life had greatly improved, he had honed the skill. If there were ways in and out of the keep that David had neglected to tell Annys about, Callum would sniff them out.
“Weel,” Callum drawled as he gave a futile attempt to brush the dirt off his clothes, “it would be a trial but someone could get in and out of there. A wee bit of work and it could be made a more comfortable little bolt-hole. I just dinnae understand what use it is. It goes under the wall and little else.”
Harcourt nodded slowly. “But it gets ye outside the walls without having to walk across the bailey where there are so many eyes to watch you.”
“Why dinnae they just use the bolt-hole ye said David had made for everyone to use?”
“Because the door to it is locked and Annys keeps the keys with her all the time.”
“Another set of keys?”
“That is a possibility but how would one get the key one wanted without her kenning it and it takes time to make a new one. The other keys, if there are any, would be given to someone she and David trusted completely. It is also accessible only from the ledger room and she is in there a lot. Nay, I think we need to look for things like this, although more accommodating. This would work for that cursed cat though. Any sign it has been used lately?”
“’Tis packed tight. I wouldnae have gotten so filthy if I had been a wee bit smaller.”
“Back to it being a woman again, aye?”
“Aye. I will keep looking though. Ye may take time to question Annys about any knowledge she might have about such bolt-holes. Just because she doesnae have a key to them, doesnae mean they are not there, or that David had nay done the work himself.”
“Weel, I would certainly have believed that ere he was mutilated as the mon did love the lassies but his parents were verra religious, verra pious, and he wouldnae have wanted them to ken he was sneaking out to tumble about with some wench.” Harcourt smiled as he recalled some of the tales David had told him while he had been so long abed while healing. “From the time he had his first taste of a woman until he was gelded by that jealous oaf, he was a randy beast.”
Callum nodded. “So, to go off rutting without having to endure the pious lectures of his par
ents, he would indeed want some secret way out of the keep. And it would nay be one he would have told Annys about, if only because he wouldnae have wanted to explain the reason he had it. I will keep looking.”
“Good. We need to find out how the traitor is slipping in and out of here nay matter what is going on or how many we have watching. That is a weakness that could end up costing us dearly.”
Chapter Nine
“Where is the wretched child?”
Annys bit back a smile as she heard the annoyance in Joan’s voice. Her son had a true skill for arousing that emotion in Joan. Joan’s children were quiet, well-behaved little boys, unless they played with Benet. She looked up from her sewing to smile at Joan.
“Has my son led your lads astray again?” she asked.
“Nay yet. He was meeting with them to play ball but they have been waiting for near to an hour they said and he hadnae come.”
A closer look at Joan revealed that worry was behind her annoyance and Annys felt an icy chill flow down her back. “Mayhap Benet got distracted doing something with whichever mon was charged with watching him today.”
“Nay. That was Sir Gybbon. He thought the boy was with mine. Said the lad needed to go to the garderobe first and then said he was meeting my lads right here in the bailey. Weel, my lads finally came to get me because they couldnae find him.”
Annys tossed her sewing aside, leapt to her feet, and started out of the solar. “Then we must find Sir Gybbon now.”
“He waits in the bailey with my lads,” said Joan as she hurried after Annys. “Ye cannae think something has happened to the wee lad. Everyone was watching o’er him. He hasnae gone a step in any direction for a sennight without someone kenning exactly where he is.”
“It appears that this time he may have eluded that constant watch.”
Annys told herself to control the fear welling up inside of her. A clear head was needed now. One could not plan if one’s head and heart were both lost in the fog of fear. But terror was gnawing at her and it was difficult to fight.
She saw Sir Gybbon pacing in front of Joan’s sons. The young man looked both upset and angry. A part of her wanted to yell at him but she silenced it. He had done as he had been told. This was not his fault. She was certain of it. He had simply allowed Benet to go to the garderobe. Somehow the boy had been snatched or led away from there.
“M’lady, I dinnae ken . . .” Sir Gybbon began, his blue eyes dark with guilt.
“Nay, dinnae apologize,” she said and patted his arm. “There is no need. No one said ye should follow the lad right into the garderobe. He was also inside the crowded keep. Nay a place we thought extra eyes needed to be.” She turned to Joan. “What we need now is for everyone to search the keep,” she told her, and Joan quickly began to order people inside to hunt for Benet.
“Do ye think he is hiding in there?” asked Sir Gybbon.
“I hope he is. I hope he is just being a naughty boy and thinking he is doing something funny by hiding on us.” She lowered her voice so that no one else could hear her but Gybbon. “My fear is that the one who poisoned my husband has betrayed us again.”
“Och, nay.” He dragged his hands through his thick black hair. “Mayhaps watched closely for those few times when the lad was alone.” He grimaced. “Such as when he had to visit the garderobe. But, how would he get the lad away from here with none of us seeing anything?”
“Every keep has a bolt-hole, Sir Gybbon. Recall I mentioned one when we took your prisoner to his cell. ’Tis nay a secret for all it can be locked from inside the ledger room. David felt it unfair for only a few chosen ones to ken how to escape an attack so most all here ken where it is. Joan and Dunnie both ken where the extra keys are hidden. I suspect David told Nicolas as weel, giving him one to hide. There is another bolt-hole just for the laird and his closest kin or guards, but, if someone took Benet, it wouldnae be so verra hard to get him outside the walls through that bolt-hole if they uncovered it as it is nay locked. I can only pray that didnae happen for it would mean that they could have already gotten him far away from us.”
Sir Gybbon gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Annys knew it was intended to reassure her. It did not, but it did stop her from racing into the keep yelling Benet’s name. Someone needed to stay in one place so the searchers could quickly report to her whatever they might find. She soothed her need to join the search by reminding herself that Joan, and several of the younger girls, knew every one of Benet’s hiding places. There was no need for her to direct the search.
One by one her people came out to say that they had found no sign of her son. Each report was a blow to the heart. Annys forced herself to thank the person reporting, say something comforting, and then calmly wait for the next person to report. Joan was the last one to walk up to her and it took every scrap of strength Annys possessed not to fall to the ground and weep at the look upon the woman’s face. Joan had not found her child either.
“He isnae in there, Annys,” Joan said, her voice thick with tears.
When Joan moved to embrace her, Annys held out her hand to stop her advance. “Nay, I will break. I will fall to the ground and be of no use to anyone.” She looked at Sir Gybbon. “Where are Sir Harcourt and the others?”
“They went to ride the boundaries, to talk to people, see what may or may nay be happening,” he answered. “Been some reports of cattle and sheep being stolen. At least one place found where someone was certain one of the stolen animals had been butchered.”
Annys clenched her hands in her hair, barely stopping herself from tearing at it like some madwoman. “The bastard has ceased playing with us.”
“Thought that myself when the village was fired,” said Sir Gybbon. “That was so quickly stopped, the damage so slight and quickly mended that I decided I must be wrong. I now wonder if what drew the others away was naught but part of a plan to grab the wee lad. Fewer people watching the lad today.”
“Of course. I would ne’er have thought Sir Adam capable of devising such a clever plan, an almost intricate one, but he may have one or two men with him who are more sharp-witted.”
“True.” Sir Gybbon signaled to Gavin, drawing the tall, thin youth to his side. “Ye need to hie yourself to Sir Harcourt and tell him someone has taken the boy. Fast as ye can, lad. Go now.” He looked at Annys. “Where does that bolt-hole come out?”
Silently thanking the man for giving her something to do, Annys took him to where the tunnel beneath the walls of Glencullaich came out. He carefully studied the ground and Annys found herself doing the same. It looked very much as if someone had dragged something, or someone, along until he reached a place just beyond the tree line where two horses had waited. Footprints clearly marked that person’s return to the bolt-hole. Someone she did not ken about had a key. Someone had handed her child over to the enemy, someone from within the keep itself.
Annys felt a stinging in her palms. She slowly opened her clenched hands and winced at the marks her nails had left in her palms. Several of them seeped blood. She needed to rein in her fear and anger. Neither would help her find Benet.
“I would like to go into the bolt-hole from the other end now, m’lady,” said Sir Gybbon.
“Do ye think ye will find anything to help us?” she asked as she led him back to the keep.
“Cannae tell until I have a look.”
“Then look, please. We need to find the traitor within these walls.”
Although she could only hear the tone of his words as he answered since he was already dropping down into the tunnel, she knew it was an agreement. It had just been a particularly profane one. Annys wished he had not hidden his words. She would like to use a few curses, she decided as she followed him into the tunnel. Soon she held the torch so that he could better study the ground as they walked along.
Sir Gybbon retrieved the torch when they reached the end and Annys climbed out first. He was just climbing out of the bolt-hole when the sound of swift horses reached her ears.
Annys spun around and saw Harcourt and his men returning with a gratifying speed.
She knew exactly when Harcourt saw her and Gybbon for he and his men turned their mounts to ride toward them. Her heart pounded with hope and she realized she was expecting him to fix this. Annys cursed that weakness, sternly reminding herself that he would not be staying with her and she could not start to depend on him so much. This time, however, she would take whatever help he could give, do whatever he asked of her, if he just brought their child back home safely.
“What has happened?” Harcourt asked as he reined in, swiftly dismounted, and went to Annys.
“I begin to think we need that question engraved on the coat of arms,” she said in a shaking voice. “Benet is missing,” she replied and felt every word as a stab straight to the heart.
He pulled her into his arms and Annys did not resist. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight, trying to draw some of his strength into her own body. There was no doubt in her mind that Sir Adam had taken her child. She could only pray that he did not actually have his hands on Benet yet. There was just one reason Sir Adam would want her baby. Benet gained the man nothing unless he was removed as the laird of Glencullaich. Annys prayed her baby was not being led to the slaughter.
“I willnae waste time asking if ye have searched for him,” Harcourt said, knowing full well that Annys and her people knew every single place the boy would hide and would have turned over every stone in the place looking for the boy. “Why are ye here?”
Highland Guard Page 11