Flame (24 page)

Gavin tried to mark in his memory
distinguishing points that they were passing, but soon the rock
patterns and the twisting passages all began to blend together in a
blurry melange of stone and dampness. And though Athol kept up a
running commentary on the crystal formations of a particular cavern
or the bottomless quality of some fissure that they were
traversing, there were times, Gavin thought, when even his guide
had become confused. One of those times happened when Gavin had
asked him to bring them beneath the south wing, for the purpose of
finding the way up to the passageways leading to the South Hall.
Gavin was quite curious about the path that Joanna had taken when
she had repeatedly stolen her own portrait, but instead they ended
up standing on a ledge beneath an overhang, watching the wind
driven rain sweep across the broad loch. Gavin knew immediately
that the walls surrounding the south wing were high above them.

After a quick glance at the breathtaking
view, as well as at the sharp drop of cliffs beyond the ledge,
Gavin turned to find the Highlander’s gaze on him.

“Since arriving at Ironcross Castle,” Athol
began, his gray eyes intent on Gavin’s face. “Has there been any
time that you have thought your life might be in danger? I mean,
have there been any attempts on your life?”

“What makes you ask such a thing?”

Athol frowned and turned his gaze out over
the storm swept loch. “Somehow, I had gotten a sense that in
dealing with you, I would do best to approach you bluntly,
honestly. Quite unlike so many of the good nobles spread around the
Lowland countryside, you struck me as one who wastes no words in
his dealings with others.”

Gavin nodded at the other man’s obvious
compliment. “Some think so. But what makes you think I have
anything to fear in my own keep?”

“The fire in your chamber the other night,”
Athol returned. “You did not survive at Flodden Field, or in the
service of the king abroad, just to perish in your own bedchamber
from an act of carelessness.” He then turned and looked sharply
into Gavin’s face. “I know you to be a man of strength and courage,
but I am certain you are not a careless man.”

“Nay,” the warrior replied. “That I am
not.”

“And then, there is the matter of this
castle’s past. After the incident last fall, I am more convinced
than ever that the danger that seems to be stalking Ironcross’s
lairds is more than just a hoax.”

“So you believe that the fire that destroyed
the south wing was started intentionally?”

Athol nodded and then raised a brow
questioningly. “Aye, I do. Do you have any doubt of it?”

Gavin frowned, unwilling to reveal his
thoughts at this time. At least, as long as he considered this
Highlander a possible force behind the evil of that night.

“Go on,” Gavin paused, looking keenly into
his guide’s face. “Was this something that you suspected from the
moment that the tragedy struck down those unsuspecting souls, or is
this a recent conclusion?”

“I like to be forthright in my actions and in
my words, no matter how condemning they might seem.”

“So you have said.” Gavin nodded.

“I knew the moment I walked into what
remained of that wing that someone intent on murder started that
fire.”

Gavin stroked his chin and leaned his back
against the damp stone wall at the mouth of the cave. “What did you
see that made you so certain?”

John Stewart stepped away from the ledge and
leaned his back as well against the opposing wall. “Going through
the charred rooms, I could see that the fire had started not in one
place but many. Every panel into the passageways--every panel that
I
knew about, anyway--was scorched, while other parts of the
same room where hardly burned. I believe those fires were set
deliberately to keep those in the south wing from escaping.”
Athol’s brow was furrowed and he stared out at the loch as he
continued. “John MacInnes knew his way through these caverns as
well as anyone alive. ‘Twas he who, so many years ago, first
brought me down here. Now, for him and his family to die in that
wing and not use the passages after finding the door to the Old
Keep barred...”

“What do you mean, ‘barred’?”

“The door that led to the corridor over the
archway,” Athol replied, surprised by Gavin’s response. “The way
was barred!”

The new laird stared at the earl.

Athol nodded as he continued. “I was the one,
in fact, who removed the bar, but then by the time we opened the
door, the wing was ablaze and the smoke so thick you could not
enter. By the time sections of roof began to give way, letting in
the rain, charred bodies were all that remained. If it hadn’t been
for the downpours that continued into the next morning, I don’t
believe any of the south wing would be standing today.”

“Why did you leave Ironcross so soon, Athol?
Since you were so certain of foul play, why did you not stay longer
and find the ones responsible?”

Angrily, the Highlander slapped his hand
against the rock wall and turned to face the loch. “I was left with
little choice. The steward, Allan, treated me as if I were the one
guilty of the crime. Not even had they carried the bodies out of
the ruin, before he started talking about sealing the place off and
waiting for Lady MacInnes to come north. He would not even take
inventory of what was left.”

“Was there a reason why the steward would
have suspected you?”

“Nay!” Athol scoffed. “Other than the fact
that John and I had argued that night, there was naught to make the
man even think of me. By the devil, John MacInnes was like an older
brother to me! There was no bad blood between us. But to think of
these people suspecting
me
--of all people! And any one of
them could have done it with less feeling than slaughtering a
sheep. There was certainly no affection in these people for their
laird. In fact,” Athol said as he paused and turned to Gavin, “in
his own quiet way, John had started a buzzing in their nests. I do
not know that there was a great deal of sadness at his death. There
was certainly no surprise.”

“So you left!” he said gruffly.

“What difference did it make? Indirectly, my
honor was being called into question by the damned steward, and my
temper was growing shorter each moment I remained. I considered
seizing the castle and forcing all under my control, but decided
that would be counterproductive at best--and make me look even more
guilty, taken together with the argument between John and myself. I
was left with no other choice but to leave.”

“Still, believing these murders had been
committed and knowing yourself to be the only one capable of
bringing justice in the wake of it all, you still left.”

At the sound of Gavin’s words and accusing
tone, the earl’s brow darkened. He straightened from where he stood
and glared across the way. “I might have left Ironcross Castle, but
I did not give up my search for the truth. Seeing how quickly these
people had steeled themselves against me, I thought it best to give
the killer a false sense of security.”

“But just how were you to find out the truth
when you sat a day’s ride away in Balvenie Castle?” When Athol
hesitated to answer, Gavin looked suspiciously at his guest. Of
course, he thought. He had been blind not to think of it before
now. “You left behind spies.”

Athol nodded. “It seemed like a good
plan...then.”

“Well? Did they come back to you with any
information of value?”

“Nay.” Athol shook his head. “Originally, I
was paying two men here. But one of them, the more cunning of the
two, died shortly after I left. From what I could gather, the man’s
skull was crushed by a falling rock.”

“A rock?”

“Aye. He was walking through the gorge to the
south of the keep.”

“What about the other one? Dead as well?”

“Nay, he is alive and well!” Athol said
coolly. “But I do not know if ‘twas the fear from finding his
accomplice dead, but he has been little use to me for the past six
months.”

Gavin stood away from the wall and looked
into the other man’s face. “Who is your spy?”

“Before you think of how to punish the man,”
Athol said, turning and peering into the darkness of the cave. “You
must remember that at the time when he accepted the task, there
were no lairds sitting at Ironcross Castle. If not the brightest of
lads, he is a good one, and...”

“I’ll not punish him. I do not even question
your arrangement with the lad,” Gavin said with finality, stepping
up to the Highlander. “Considering the aftermath of that fire, I
believe you did right. I might have done the same, were I in your
position.”

Athol clapped Gavin on the back of the
shoulder. “For a Lowlander, you are an extremely understanding
man.”

“Get your paw off my back,” the laird
growled. Upon seeing the look of relief on Athol’s face as his
guest withdrew his hand, Gavin repeated his earlier question. “Who
is your man? I’ll not injure the lad, but I must know who your spy
is.”

Athol considered for a moment and then,
nodding meaningfully at the darkness of the cave before them,
turned and spoke the lad’s name.

Margaret’s hands grabbed at her own throat,
strangling the anguished cry that was trying to escape her, as she
watched the long blade of the dirk arc viciously through the air
and rip into David’s back.

The stable lad’s head twisted about in an
unnatural way as he tried to look back at his attacker, but the
sharp ledge of the chasm, only a step away, was all he would ever
see.

Pressing her back rigidly against the ice
cold walls of the cave, Margaret watched in mute horror as cold,
sure hands reached out and pushed David hard over the edge.

Margaret shut her eyes, trying to block out
the vision of the flailing arms of the stable lad as he went
over.

If only I were blind
, she prayed,
sobbing.
Oh Blessed Virgin, strike me blind
.

Margaret sank to the ground, her eyes closed,
but she could not shut out the sickening sound of the young man’s
crunching fall deep into the bowels of the earth.

And sitting there, stunned and alone, she
could not shut out the sight of the bloody dirk in the hand of one
whom she loved.

In the hand of a killer.

***

“I want you to know you are a complete
failure as a guide, Athol! In fact, I am beginning to think you are
either a liar or a thick-headed oaf.”

Flushing crimson, the earl glared menacingly
over his shoulder at Gavin. “Simply because I cannot find one damn
panel, you have to attack my character!”

“Aye!” Gavin pushed the man aside and moved
in next to him. The two of them stared at the open space of what
was once John MacInnes’s study. “There is no way anyone can come
through this panel and make their way to the hearth. By Saint
Andrew, I found
this
panel by myself the second day I was
here! There must be another passage that opens up next to that
chimney.”

“Well, I know of no other,” Athol
growled.

“That’s the first admission of ignorance you
have made today. There may be hope for you yet.”

“Nay, I take back what I said. There is no
passage up there.”

“You’re wrong. There is,” Gavin snapped.
“This is your thick-headedness coming through again. You might as
well just admit defeat.”

“I’ll not!” Athol turned angrily into the
passageway they’d just left. “By His Bones, I swear I’ll find the
damned passage.”

“Not today,” the laird said wearily,
following the other man through the darkness to a creaking old
ladder. “There is something else that may be far more valuable.
Something that might add useful facts to the fairly worthless
information you have gathered so far.”

“You are a miserable, gruff, ill-mannered dog
of a villain...even for a Lowlander!”

“Aye. All of those things.” Gavin slapped him
hard on the back. “But an understanding one. You told me so
yourself!”

Athol turned and glowered at him. “Which side
of hell do you want me to take you to now?”

“Not hell, blackguard. The crypt!”

“In the kirkyard?”

“Nay! Och, you’re a dung-headed fool. The one
beneath this keep.”

Athol frowned, suddenly putting aside all
interest in their verbal parrying. “Why in the devil’s name do you
want to see that place?”

Gavin picked up the wick lamp that they’d
hung on the wall and looked back at his guide. “How long has it
been since you have been there?”

“By the devil, I’ve
never
gone there!”
the Highlander blurted. “Even as young lads, we always were sure to
stay clear of those vaults...and that part of the caverns.”

“Are you telling me you are afraid of the
place?”

The earl considered for a moment before
answering. “What you don’t understand, you stay away from. Even as
lads, we had that much sense. We knew that vault had only women
buried within it. Only women went there, and it has always had an
air of...I don’t know...unwelcome is the only way to express
it.

Gavin frowned. “Has anything ever happened to
a man for going in there? Or is all of this, again, just a part of
this nonsense about the curse?”

Athol shook his head. “I don’t know, Gavin.
Although there were always tales of painful deaths suffered by
those foolhardy enough to trespass, I myself never knew of anyone
who tried.” He shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. “The fact that
John MacInnes would never go in there himself was reason enough for
me to stay clear of the place.”

“So then, my good lord earl, this day has
been a complete waste?” Gavin challenged. “Now that you have failed
to show me the way from my chamber to the south wing , you are
telling me that you cannot even find your way to the crypts?”