“I doona know. Drustan went into your bedchamber for a few minutes to talk to her. She left the door open, and we didn’t hear anything untoward, but right after he left, she told us to find you.”
“Was she all right?”
The other man hesitated. “She held her dagger in her hand.”
Callum leaned over Aristotle and pushed his horse to go faster in the dim light.
Why hadn’t he acted sooner? He’d known something was wrong with Drustan. He should have restrained him and brought Flora in to tend his ills. If something happened to Maggie, he’d never forgive himself.
“Where was she when you left?” he asked, praying his wife had stayed in their room.
“Not to worry, Laird. She locked herself in your bedchamber and barred the door.”
* * *
Maggie walked carefully through the dark tunnel, which was just high enough for her to stand upright, her crossbow raised in her arms. Her breath was fast yet even. Her awareness was heightened and her hands steady as she peered into the gloom.
Behind her, tall Aileen was forced to walk hunched over, carrying the candle, which threw a small pool of light around them. Her steps were erratic as she tried to keep up and occasionally broke into a sob.
“Remember,” Maggie said, “if you hear a noise behind us, drop down so I’ll have a clear shot.”
“But shouldnae I be in the front, then? You said we’re being followed. Doesn’t that mean they’ll come from the back?”
“Perhaps. But they may be in the tunnel ahead of us too.” Aileen let out another sob, and the pool of light in front of Maggie diminished. “Keep up, Sister. Think of Keith and of what the discovery of this tunnel might mean for the two of you.”
Aileen pressed up close behind her now, and Maggie was glad she’d had the sense to drag her hair forward over her shoulder so Aileen would not set the strands alight.
“I doona understand. What does the tunnel have to do with Keith?” Aileen asked, her voice sounding stronger already.
“If I’m not mistaken, this tunnel leads directly under the courtyard. Which means, if Glynis knows about it, she wouldnae have had to run all the way around that great courtyard and up the stairs in plain sight to cut the rope, as we all assumed. She could have gone through the tunnel and under the courtyard, which would have given her enough time to get there.”
“But how could she have known about the tunnel?”
“I doona know…but I have my suspicions.”
“What? Tell me,” Aileen demanded.
“Nay. I’ll discuss them with Callum first and let him ask the questions.” Maggie had wondered for a while if Callum’s da had been tupping Glynis.
The whole situation made Maggie’s stomach sour. She didn’t want to think badly of Callum’s da, especially as he’d been loving and kind to his children—but not every lass would feel they had the right to say no to a man as powerful as their laird.
All Maggie could hope for was that the old laird had been respectful to the women he’d approached and made it clear no harm would come to them or their families if they refused him.
A noise sounded behind them, and Maggie spun around. “Down!” she whispered, and Aileen dropped to her knees.
Maggie waited, straining to hear. Then in the distance, Drustan called, “Abi! Love, are you down here? Abigail?”
Her guts hollowed, and she turned around, quickening her pace. “Hurry, Aileen.”
“What’s wrong? That sounded like Drustan. He could help us.” Aileen scrambled to her feet and kept close.
“Nay. I think Drustan is the one who disposed of Hew and my other guard. Something’s terribly wrong with him.”
“And he’s following us? Maybe to kill us?”
“’Tis possible.” She didn’t want to scare the lass any more than she already was, but it was important Aileen understood that Drustan was not to be trusted. “When we get out of the tunnel, I want you to run as fast as you can and find Keith—or any of the other soldiers. Tell him to find your brother. And tell everyone you can about the tunnel. Callum needs to know.”
They hurried in silence for a moment before Aileen said, “That’s why you threw the stone into the passageway and broke it. To alert everyone the tunnel was here. In case…in case we ne’er made it out.” Instead of faltering, her voice had steadied.
“Callum needed to know where we’d gone.”
“Even though Drustan would know too?”
“Aye. A traitor is at work in the clan, Aileen, and I’m almost certain she…or he…has been using this tunnel.”
“Glynis,” Aileen breathed.
“Maybe. But until we catch her down here, we willna know for sure.”
Maggie slowed as they reached the bottom of a spiral staircase. She pointed her crossbow upward. “Stay as close to me as you can.” She felt the need for caution, but at the same time, Drustan was behind them, and she wanted to run.
They started up the stairs, and Maggie tried to keep count, to estimate how high up they were going. She peered into the thick blackness, watching for anyone ahead of them—or any weapons—while she also looked for doors or a loose stone that could be another exit. There had to be a way out, at the very least one on the highest level. She prayed they found it before Drustan found them.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, he called out again. “Abi! Abi, where are you?” He sounded closer this time, and she and Aileen crouched against the wall like mice trying to hide from a great, deranged cat. Maggie didn’t know where to point her crossbow, and after a second, she urged Aileen to keep going. They were on what she thought must be the last spiral of the stone staircase when she heard the scraping of stone, followed by the sight of a familiar shape racing around the corner.
“Glynis,” Aileen said, just as Maggie yelled, “Stop!” her finger on the trigger of her crossbow.
She didn’t want to kill Glynis; they needed information from her. At the same time, Drustan roared behind them. He sounded close, like he was at the bottom of the steps. If she shot Glynis, she wouldn’t have time to reload, which left her daggers, and she wasn’t confident using them in this tight space with Aileen so near.
Glynis must have seen her hesitate and darted up the stairs two at a time. Maggie cursed and grabbed Aileen’s arm. “Run!” she said. She reached the last turn and saw a door swinging shut. “Doona forget what I said, Aileen. Find Keith, Callum, anyone! Tell them what you saw! Do not wait to help me.”
She burst out through the door, crossbow raised, and moved forward cautiously, peering through the dim morning light. Ahead of her was the first of two scaffolds, and beside the second one, tied to the wall, was her net.
But she couldn’t see Glynis anywhere. Then something struck her hard from behind and pushed her to the edge of the balcony. Her crossbow flew from her hands, and she screamed.
* * *
Callum ran as fast as he’d ever run in his life, through the dimly lit great hall and up the stairs to the second level, praying that Hew and another guard would be standing outside his bedchamber door. But he knew in his gut something was wrong.
He let out an anguished roar when he reached the top step and saw his bedroom door ajar with no one in sight. “Search the castle,” he yelled to the man behind him. “Find Maggie, Drustan, and Glynis!”
He tore into his room, saw the rumpled quilts on the floor and the overturned mattress, and it felt as though a giant fist had punched him in the gut.
Was she forcibly taken?
He saw parchment, a quill, and ink on the desk and rushed toward them. The first one he picked up was an unsealed letter she’d written to John. His throat closed as he read her words—she loved Callum, she was happy, she would never leave him.
He closed his eyes for just a moment and held the message to his chest.
With a gro
an that turned into a growl, he tucked the letter into his plaid and ran for the door, filled with hope that he’d find her in time. He prayed that John had her, that he’d somehow sneaked past the guards and into the castle—and Maggie would be returned to Callum once she’d told John how she felt.
And then he could tell Maggie how he felt: I love you, you make me happy, I will never leave you.
He was at the top of the stairs when he heard a woman scream. Every hair on his body rose, and his heart began to pound.
“Maggie!”
* * *
Maggie slid toward the edge of the stone precipice. The wall up from the courtyard was still under repair, with no protective railing to stop her from going over. The scaffolding on this side had been dragged away from the wall and the structure weakened when the net of rocks had dropped and bashed into the framework, breaking some of the support beams.
She reached for anything to stop her forward momentum, but she couldn’t get purchase. As she started to fall over the edge, she pushed off with her feet and lunged for a rope that was suspended over the pulley beside the scaffold. The opposite end of the rope was weighed down by a few of the remaining rocks within the heavy netting on the courtyard floor. She swung out on the rope, her tender ribs wrenching, pain shooting through her hand, and she threw her legs over the edge of the scaffold on the side. She kept hold of her lifeline as she pulled herself up to stand on the top of the wooden platform, which rocked dangerously. Once she’d steadied herself, she drew her dagger.
Glynis stood panting at the edge of the precipice, a savage look on her face, holding a heavy piece of wood that she must have used to strike Maggie. Behind Glynis, Aileen appeared from the tunnel, her skin white and eyes wide. She quietly shut the door behind her and ran as silent as a mouse down the corridor.
Maggie tossed her dagger in the air to distract Glynis, who eyed the weapon warily. She didn’t want to kill Glynis. Nay, if Glynis was the traitor, she had information Callum needed. But she could scare her a little.
When the other woman lunged for Maggie’s crossbow, Maggie tossed her dagger so it narrowly missed the tip of Glynis’s finger, the crossbow sliding even farther away.
She pulled another dagger and said, “Try to run, Glynis, and I’ll throw my knife into your leg. I’ll sever the tendon so you canna walk properly again. Or maybe I’ll toss it in your knee, so you’ll limp for the rest of your life—if you’re lucky—and you’ll know exactly how Aileen felt when you taunted her about her scarred lip.”
Glynis faced her, chest heaving, eyes darting around, looking for a way out. Finally, she returned her gaze to Maggie. “I’d rather be dead than look like that misshapen monster. She’s a malformed demon of a lass.”
“She’s a sweet lass with a scar on her lip, like many people.”
“She’s tupping my husband.”
“You’re tupping Drustan. And the old laird before that. Am I right? That’s how you knew about the tunnel. He used it to sneak around to tup his lasses undetected. And once you were married to Keith, he used it to go behind Keith’s back.”
“Did Drustan tell you that? I’ve seen him watching you. What will happen if I tell Callum I saw you two together? I can be verra convincing.”
“He’ll do naught but hang you for a traitor. It’s done, Glynis. Whate’er influence you once had is lost.” Maggie had been watching the other woman’s eyes, hoping to make her insensible with rage so she attacked Maggie on the scaffold. She was getting close. “You canna run from this. You have nowhere to hide. Your only option is to throw yourself on Callum’s mercy and tell him what you know. Starting with how you murdered his father.”
Glynis’s eyes widened before she burst out laughing. “I wanted him dead, that’s for certain. Did you know he approached my father about courting me when I was just seventeen years old? Except he was married, of course, and courting only meant tupping. I must admit I was flattered by the attention of a laird, but in truth, I was in love with a farmer’s son who lived down the lane. I ne’er thought my father would say yes.”
Maggie’s stomach curdled. She wanted to condemn Glynis as nothing more than a blackhearted villain, but now that was impossible. “I’m sorry that happened to you. ’Twas a betrayal of the worst kind.”
Glynis shrugged as if she didn’t care, but Maggie saw her lips tighten. “He had seven daughters. I guess I didn’t matter. So I went to my farmer’s son, and he took care of me. He said nay to the laird, and we married. I had a bairn, a sweet, wee girl who died during birth. I barely survived, and the healer said I would ne’er have another.”
Maggie’s fingers twisted on the rope with dread, knowing the story could only get worse. “And Laird MacLean? When did you see him again?”
“A few months later. Once I was well enough to tup, my sweet farmer’s son of a grieving husband contacted him and asked if he still wanted me. In exchange for my time spent with your husband’s father, Ivor, my husband and I received the best prices for our crops and animals at market. I left him the following year and went to live in another village. Ivor found me there as well.”
Maggie’s throat had tightened, and she swallowed twice before she could speak. “’Tis a sad story, Glynis, and I am truly sorry for you. No lass should be treated that way. But it doesn’t absolve you of your crimes.”
“For killing the old laird, you mean?” Glynis jumped onto the scaffold, and Maggie took a quick step to the edge. The platform swayed under their combined weight, and she heard a support beam snap. The scaffold was coming apart.
“Nay, I didn’t kill Ivor,” Glynis continued. “Drustan did that of his own accord when I told him about Ivor and his wife, Abigail. Now that was a truly sad story—and one you ne’er suspected, am I right?”
She laughed again at the look on Maggie’s face. “I did pay to have my husband and father killed, however. By that time, I was living at the castle and betrothed to Keith. In exchange for spying on Ivor and committing acts of treason, I would be paid in gold. But I didn’t want gold. I wanted revenge.”
She darted at Maggie with a dagger in her hand, moving quicker than Maggie had expected. Maggie jumped off the scaffold just as Glynis’s knife scraped her skin, and she swung on the rope in a half circle back to the stone floor. Quickly looping the rope around the edge of the scaffold, Maggie then tipped it backward—slowly enough so that Glynis wouldn’t slide off before she grabbed an edge and held on.
Glynis’s eyes changed, transformed by fear—too afraid to move lest she fall. Maggie pierced her dagger through the rope and into the scaffold’s wooden frame to hold it precariously in place.
It was a victory by all accounts, but Maggie felt grim, too grim to smile at her win over a woman who had committed such vile acts as murder. Nay, she felt sick at the story Glynis had told. It was a terrible tale even if only parts of it were true.
Still, they needed information. Who had paid her? If Glynis refused to talk, Maggie was afraid the consequences would be dire.
A scuffing sound came from directly behind her. When Glynis smiled, Maggie knew she was too late. Turning her head, she saw Drustan reaching out for her. She did the only thing she could do. She jumped.
* * *
Callum burst out onto the chapel balcony where he’d married Maggie just hours ago and saw her leap onto a precariously balanced scaffold on the opposite side of the courtyard. Drustan stood behind her, looking ready to jump himself. Glynis was already hanging off the edge of the scaffold, and if she or Maggie fell, it would mean certain death. Maggie scrambled to stay upright, and Callum clapped his hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t yell out and distract her. When she leapt to the more stable platform several feet away and landed safely, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Grabbing the rope he’d slid down yesterday during their wedding ceremony, he jumped from the balcony and landed seconds later in the courtyard. “Maggie, sta
y there! I’m coming!” he shouted as he sprinted toward the scaffolding. He scanned the area, noting several ways up to her. Climbing the net that hung against the stone wall would be the safest way and put him closest to Maggie, but that might draw Drustan in her direction. The scaffolding looked too dangerous to mount—he’d be afraid of knocking it over. So that meant the rope hanging over the pulley that had held up the rocks earlier. It was taut and looked like it was secured at the top; otherwise, his weight would pull it down. Aye, he could climb that bloody rope to get to his wife—without fail, whether it was four stories or ten.
Maggie looked down at him. “Callum! Drustan is here. He’s mad.”
“Just stay there!” he repeated. He jumped up as high as he could and grabbed the end of the rope, then pulled himself up, hand over hand, ignoring the burn in his arms and shoulders. He had only one chance to save Maggie. She was vulnerable, and Drustan could get to her at any time.
“Help me, Drustan. Help me!” he heard Glynis yell.
“Callum,” Maggie screamed, sounding terrified, “he’s going to pull out the knife securing the rope to the scaffold—you’ll fall!”
He was passing the third floor and knew he had to jump. Then he heard Maggie say, “Drustan, look at me. It’s Abi, sweetling. Look at me now,” and his blood ran cold.
* * *
Maggie breathed deeply and tried to gentle her voice. Drustan had his hand on her dagger, and any moment now, he would pull it out and send the scaffold and Glynis crashing to the courtyard floor. She didn’t know what she wanted for Glynis, but it wasn’t to die that way.
“Drustan, look at me. It’s Abi, sweetling. Look at me now.”
Drustan looked at her—really looked at her. “Nay. You’re wee, wild Maggie MacDonnell. I knew your da.”
Relief rushed through her until he looked at Glynis, and a coldness entered his eyes. “You tried to kill Maggie. I saw you.”
“I’m right here, Drustan. I’m unharmed,” Maggie said at the same time Glynis said, “Please, Drustan. For all the time we spent together, loving each other. Please, have mercy.” It was the wrong thing to say.
Highland Betrayal Page 29