Highland Protector

by Hannah Howell

  Ilsabeth was beginning to get worried that she had been forgotten when she heard someone approaching. The quick stab of anticipation that quickened her heart faded abruptly when David Hepbourn stopped in front of her cell. He looked worn, tired, and as if he was grieving for someone. She quickly pushed down the twinge of sympathy that softened her anger and stared at him.

  “What are ye doing here?” she asked.

  “ ‘Tis over, ye ken,” he said. “Walter and Henry Innes are being taken to the king.”

  “So, ‘tis all over,” she murmured, and wondered why she was not free yet. “My family can go home.”

  “Aye. Ilsabeth, I have come here to beg for your forgiveness.”

  “There is no need.”

  “Oh, aye, there is. I was a part of it all. I didnae feel it was right to place the blame for a murder on you but I did naught to stop it. I heeded every word Walter said and blindly followed. For that, I was willing to let ye pay for what he had done. I pushed away all doubts and heeded Walter’s slander against your kinsmen.”

  “Nothing to fret about. They have been called worse.”

  His smile was faint and fleeting. “It still wasnae right. For that unkindness, and for this, I beg your forgiveness.”

  “Then ye have it. And, I am sorry about Walter, David. I ken that ye loved and trusted him. What will ye do now?”

  “Weel, it seems that, because I turned him in as a traitor and helped them catch so many of the others, I will retain most of Walter’s property. The king rather liked Walter’s father and doesnae want it to leave the hands of a Hepbourn.”

  “Walter’s mother must be stricken with grief.”

  “She is and she has already left for her sister’s for she says she cannae stay here while they murder her son and she cannae stay in the same house with the mon who handed her bairn over to the king as I did. There are a great many things she said but a few made me certain she kenned exactly what Walter was doing and approved. She thought Walter deserved to be a king.”

  “But, it wasnae Walter who was to be the king, nor did he particularly wish to be.”

  “She willnae heed that and it doesnae truly matter.” He glanced over his shoulder and then gave her a faint smile. “I had best go for they all ken where I am and someone may soon come hunting me down. I would prefer to return to where I am supposed to be without help or an escort.”

  “Did ye happen to see Simon?” she asked, inwardly cursing the weakness that made her utter the words.

  “Aye, he has just met all three of his younger brothers. ‘Tis quite a reunion, although they had to endure some verra harsh words from Henry. I think

  I always kenned that there was something wrong with Sir Henry but I could ne’er decide. So, as always, I followed Walter’s lead.” He bowed to her. “Ye will be out of here soon and back with your family. I will see what I can do to send ye some reparations for all the trouble the Hepbourns caused.”

  Ilsabeth did her best to dissuade him of that but he would not listen. She decided he needed to do it for his own peace of mind. Although it was difficult to completely forgive him since he was one who helped put her in this cell and send her family into hiding, she did feel a little sorry for him. He had been Walter’s pet and Walter had betrayed him. Not only had the man dragged David into something that would ruin the younger man if it did not kill him, he had turned his back on David in his time of need.

  She started pacing again and wondered if she was suffering a like fate. The battle was obviously over, Walter and Henry had been sent to the king and would await judgment, and Simon was meeting his younger brothers for the first time since they had been children together. As far as Ilsabeth could see, she was the only one who was not doing anything. Was it not time for her to be released?

  Simon winced as Henry scolded the king for harnessing a great man like himself. He had the feeling that Henry had finally taken that last step into a madness so deep it was no longer possible for him to hide it. It was both humiliating and frightening to watch.

  Just as he was about to suggest gagging his brother, for he had already said more than enough to get himself convicted of treason three times over, three young men walked into the main hall. Simon stared at them, sensing that they were familiar, yet not recalling ever seeing them before. It was not until they stopped directly in front of him that he saw the familial resemblance. The gray eyes, the black hair, the bone structures were all Innes.

  “Kenneth? Malcolm? Ruari?” When the three young men grinned and nodded, Simon ran his fingers through his hair and just kept staring at them in disbelief. “But Henry said he had killed ye. I began to think the occasional whisper of news about ye was actually about someone else.”

  Malcolm hastily told the tale, shocking the king and his ministers. “I confess, it bred a deep fear that we have only just been able to shake free of and come out of hiding.”

  “Ye should have stayed in hiding, ye miserable little bastards,” said Henry.

  “Nay more a bastard than ye are,” murmured Ruari. “Ye dinnae look so verra threatening now. Dirty and chained, ye are, and I find that most soothing. E’en if we hadnae come looking for Simon and found ye here like this, once I heard of it I couldnae stay away.”

  Henry started cursing them and when the king reprimanded him, Henry returned to scolding the king again. Simon directed his brothers to his home for he knew they would not be able to have any sort of reunion with Henry there. As soon as his newfound brothers left, Simon turned his attention back to Henry and vainly tried to shut the man’s mouth. The king finally signaled for the prisoners to be removed.

  When a weeping Walter and a still scolding Henry were taken away, the king waved Simon over. In the man’s eyes, Simon could see the same unease, even fear, that he suspected was lurking in his own. There was something about looking into the face of such madness that had one wondering how easily it could affect oneself.

  “He made no attempt to deny what he had planned,” the king said.

  “Nay, for he thinks he had the right and that we should all see that.”

  “That is what is so puzzling. How can he think that? That is where the madness is, isnae it?”

  “Some of it, aye. As I think on it, Henry has always been that way, always felt that he was right and everyone else should understand that or be made to. The brutality may come from that, too. I dinnae ken. All I do ken is that he has taken that last step into utter, easily seen madness.”

  “He will be punished as the traitor he is despite that. He wasnae always this clearly insane so one cannae say he didnae ken what he was doing. Walter is a different matter. His mother has already begun petitioning the court. She doesnae openly ask for the property back, but makes some wild accusations about David Hepbourn plotting all this so that her poor son would suffer and David would get everything.”

  “David couldnae plot his way down the street,” muttered Simon, and the king grinned.

  “Nay, he couldnae. He is a follower. I shall just make sure he has the right mon to follow now. And, now, let us speak on the men with Henry and Walter. We didnae get all of them, did we?”

  “Nay, sire.” Simon did not really like this particular line of questioning. “Some escaped.”

  “Because of the lax attitude of three of my best men?”

  “Nay, sire. We were all verra busy subduing Walter and Henry.”

  “Of course ye were.” The king sighed. “I am pleased with the ending of this even if I think mercy may have been taken too far. But, the common soldier pulled along into the wrong battle because his laird has ordered it is of no real importance to me. And set that poor lass free.”

  “Of course. And her family, the Armstrongs of Aigballa? Their names, and to some extent that of the Murrays, have been damaged by all of this.”

  “I ken it and the word has already begun to spread that they were just the pawns in another’s game. The soldiers will be leaving as soon as they get the message I just sent them and
they, too, have sworn to spread the word. It will take a while for we both ken that once a stain has been put upon one’s honor, ‘tis a verra difficult thing to wash away. I have great faith that Ilsabeth’s people will manage.”

  Simon nodded, biting his tongue against the words he wanted to say. A family forced to run and hide, branded traitors, their home taken and treated roughly by soldiers, and a few of their oldest clan members killed in the taking of the keep did not equal a “stain” on the family honors. Simon would not press now for the reparations the king had spoken of early in this deadly game, but he would not forget them, either.

  The king should be pleased with the traitors that were caught, he mused. There were eight men, not including Walter and Henry. Eight men of good blood, wealth, and property who would soon be tried and, undoubtedly, proven guilty of treason. Simon decided he would do his best to be somewhere far away when the executions began. Even Henry’s. Lochancorrie needed him. Wallace had already reminded him of that several times. He now had brothers who might be willing to return home and make Lochancorrie the place it should have been before the darkness of Henry’s madness had descended upon it.

  He was tired. Tired, heartsore, and, at the thought of losing Ilsabeth, feeling very empty inside. He was going to set Ilsabeth free and not just from prison. Simon could not hold her to a man who came from such a troubled family, the hint of madness always there. She needed a brighter future.

  Simon finally excused himself from the king’s presence and started to make his way to the prison. He met a very solemn Tormand and the children at the door that led down into the dungeons. The realization that he would be losing the children, too, nearly brought him to his knees. He stiffened his spine and greeted them with the cool indifference he was hoping to perfect soon.

  “He is setting her free?” asked Tormand as they started down the stairs.

  Picking up Elen, who had stood before him with her arms stretched out to him, Simon nodded. “He has also begun to spread the word that the Armstrongs of Aigballa were no traitors, just victims of the real traitors’ attempts to hide their trail.”

  “We both ken that willnae clear away the mark left on them,” said Tormand. “The whispers will always be there. That is the way of it when ‘tis bad news, aye?”

  “Aye, but we can do what little we can and hope.”

  “True. Now open the door so I can let the children go and greet her and then mayhap ye will tell me what has ye looking as if your dog Bonegnasher has just died.”

  “I dinnae ken what ye are talking about,” he muttered as he set Elen down and opened the door to Ilsabeth’s cell.

  He was about to turn back to Tormand when Ilsabeth hurled herself into his arms and kissed both his cheeks. For one brief, heady moment he held her close for the last time. Then he released her to greet the children. He stepped back, fighting the temptation to join them in the happy reunion and then looked to see Tormand at his side staring at him.

  “Ye are making the painful choice, arenae ye?” said Tormand. “The one Morainn spoke about.”

  “There is no choice about it. Ye saw Henry; ye saw what lurks in my blood.”

  “I thought ye didnae believe in that.”

  “I didnae until I saw the madness in Henry, until I felt the unreasoning rage he could stir within me. And I have lands now but from what Wallace says, they will need a great deal of work to get them to produce a goodly supply of food again.”

  “Ye are making excuses.”

  “They arenae excuses, they are reasons.”

  Tormand made a mocking noise deep in his throat. “Ye keep telling yourself that. Mayhap it will work. Just remember that changes cannae always be fixed.”

  “Oh, Simon, I am so sorry for ye, for what ye are having to deal with with that brother of yours.” Ilsabeth walked over and hugged him.

  Simon stepped back again, gently but firmly pulling her arms away from his body. If she kept touching him, he would never be able to let her go. He fought to ignore the hurt that flared in her beautiful eyes. It was better to hurt her now than to condemn her to a life where there might still lurk madness and despair.

  Ilsabeth thought her heart would shatter. There was no welcome light in Simon’s eyes.

  He had pushed her out of his arms as if he could not bear to have her touch him. That caused her so much pain she nearly cried out from the sharpness of it.

  He was leaving her. She could see it in his eyes. The gray was as cold and penetrating as it had been the first day she had met him. What Ilsabeth did not understand was why he was doing it.

  “Simon?” She reached out to him and he stepped back.

  “ ‘Tis time for ye to go home, Ilsabeth,” he said. “Your family will be anxious to see that ye are unharmed by your ordeal. They will soon be returning to their home and that is where ye should be.”

  “If that is what ye truly wish,” she whispered, determined not to cry in front of him even though her eyes felt full of tears. “It is what must be.”

  Ilsabeth watched him walk away and knew he was taking her heart with him. She did not understand. The last time he had visited her in her prison his words had been tender, his touch even more so. Now it was like hugging a stone. She looked at Tormand, who just shrugged.

  “A mon can be a fool sometimes,” Tormand said.

  “He can change so in but one night?”

  “If he has come to a decision, aye.”

  She thought about it for a moment and then sighed. “It has to do with Henry’s madness, doesnae it?”

  “I think so. Give him time. Seeing it so clearly has overset him. Ye didnae see it but Henry lost what little grip he had on sanity right there in front of the crown. It wasnae a pretty sight. He also boasted of all he had done whilst still out on the battlefield.”

  “Time, is it? We shall see.”

  Now she was growing angry. Simon had questioned the belief that such sicknesses of the mind crop up within families. Obviously when it appeared in his own, he lost all of his former doubts of such beliefs and suffered fears for himself and his children

  The thought of children caused her to place her hand on her belly. It was too soon to know but considering how often she and Simon had made love, it was a possibility that she already carried his child. She searched her heart for a fear of the insanity that had taken Henry and felt none. Her family was not free of that problem yet it did not run rampant in the bloodlines. Henry was twisted in some way from the day he was born; she was certain of it. She had also seen none of it in Simon or his brothers. She just wondered how long it would take Simon to see it, too.

  “Are ye going to be all right?”

  She managed a smile for her cousin. “Aye. I willnae say that I willnae hold out a hope that he will come to his senses, but aye, I shall be fine. It has been a terrible time for him.”

  “Where Simon?” demanded Elen.

  “Simon has gone home, love,” Ilsabeth said, and gently brushed some of the thick curls off Elen’s face as the child began to scowl.

  “He left us,” said Reid.

  “Now, ye dinnae ken that for certain,” Ilsabeth began to protest.

  “I do ken it. He didnae e’en want to smash his mouth on yours.”

  “Smash his mouth on yours?” muttered Tormand. “I would have thought Simon had more finesse than that.”

  Ilsabeth elbowed her cousin in the stomach and he grunted before he laughed. “Reid, Simon is a grown mon and he can do as he pleases. We may nay agree with what he is doing, but ‘tis his right to do it.”

  “Then why do ye look so sad?” “Weel, I didnae say I had to like what he was doing.”

  Reid stood up very straight. “If he has hurt your feelings then I will go and punch him in the nose.” “Thank ye, Reid, but, nay, dinnae do that. Ye must understand that adults can decide that they cannae be together even if they have been, er, smashing mouths.” She tried to elbow Tormand in the stomach again when he snickered but he nimbly eluded it.
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br />   “Does that mean he cannae be with us, either?”

  “I fear so, although if he e’er asks for ye to visit I willnae say nay.”

  “Where Simon?”

  “Simon had to leave, love,” she said again, and had the feeling she was going to have to repeat herself on that matter more times than she wanted to deal with.

  “Simon stay.”

  “Oh, dear.” Ilsabeth could see that look of stubbornness forming on Elen’s angelic face and prepared for what could become a glorious fit of rage. “Simon cannae stay, dear.”

  “Where Simon?” Elen bellowed, her small hands clenched in front of her. “Want Simon now.”

  “Elen, we cannae always have what we want,” Ilsabeth said, and thought to herself that that was sadly true even for adults who ought to have better control over their lives.

  “Si... mon!!!”

  Simon halted on the steps out of the dungeon as that childish bellow resounded off the walls of the cool, damp stone. He closed his eyes and fought the urge to go back to the child. It was best for Elen if he did not waver. She would get over needing to see him.

  “Si... mon!!”

  He hesitated another moment and then bolted up the stairs, the sound of Elen bellowing his name following him every step of the way. Selfish bastard that he was, he had not even considered the children’s feelings. It was too late to back down now. Repeating the words that it was better for them all if he left, he slammed the door to the dungeons behind him, cutting off that bellow. He knew though, that he would be hearing the angry pain in it for a long time.

  Chapter 18

  Simon studied the lands of Lochancorrie closely as he, his brothers, and the men Henry had dragged from their homes all rode toward the huge keep that dominated the hillside in front of them. Not many of the fields were planted and there appeared to be few livestock grazing on the low, rolling hills around them. He had to wonder what Henry had done in his time as laird aside from abusing the people who depended upon him.