Highland Protector (20 page)

“Have ye worn yourself out yet?” he asked David, and could swear the man’s chin quivered exactly like Elen’s did when she was about to let go an ear-splitting howl. “Sit down.”

David hesitated only a moment before he stomped back to the chair and threw himself down into it. Despite the man’s childish display of anger, Simon knew David was terrified. It was there to see in his stare, which remained too widely open and showed far too much of the white of his eyes. His skin had grown very pale and Simon could see the beads of nervous sweat forming on the man’s brow.

“Why are ye detaining me?” David demanded. “This is unacceptable. Ye may be a king’s mon, Sir Simon, but that doesnae give ye the right to snatch people right off the streets.”

“Actually, it does.”

David ignored him. “Just who do ye think ye are?”

“The mon who just might be able to save ye from your own folly. At this moment ye are doomed to die a traitor’s death right alongside your vain cousin. Ye do ken what they do to traitors, dinnae ye?”

When David just stared at him, Simon continued, “First they chain ye in the deepest, darkest prison they can find and then they begin to torture ye. Ye might ken a few things they need to learn about the others or they might just feel ye need it for thinking ye had a right to kill a king. A wee bit of stretching on the rack and, when ye can hear your own joints on your legs and arms pop from the strain, they will quickly find another way to cause ye as much pain as they can. The king’s torturers are verra skilled at their job. They have whips, chains, knives, hot pincers. And they can wield them all with precision. They like to have a go at the softer, more tender parts of the body. The eyes, the nose, the balls.”

Simon stepped back from David. The man had gone a little green. He decided he had described enough of the horrors the man would face, although David had revealed little stomach for the thought of his own pain. He had thought to turn the man craven with such talk but it would do him no good if David ended up too terrified to even talk. He could still take David to the court and hand him over to the sheriff. Simon had the feeling that, if he indulged in his planned talk on the various tortures David would have to endure, he would be handing the sheriff no more than a babbling idiot.

“I dinnae ken why ye would taunt me with such horrors,” David said. “I have done ye no wrong.” “Enough, David. We both ken what ye have allowed your cousin to lead ye into.” Simon stepped back close to the chair David cowered in, placed a hand on each arm of the chair, and leaned forward to stare right into David’s pale eyes. “He will lead ye no more. Dinnae think he will come to save ye, dear cousin to him that ye may be. That mon will toss ye aside as swiftly as he can, no doubt parading about the court denouncing ye as he has already denounced me and mine. The moment he is certain that all see ye as the foul traitor he claims, he will leave ye to suffer. Hell’s fire, he will be sure there is no mercy for ye by the time he has finished telling his lies.”

“Walter is an honorable mon who cares weel for those he calls friend and kin,” David protested, and glared at Simon when he snorted with laughter, a laughter echoed by the others in the room.

“Listen to me, ye miserable wee worm,” snapped Simon, his humor vanishing to be replaced with a cold fury. “I heard ye that day ye met Walter in the wood. Ilsabeth heard ye and Walter the day she had to flee for her life, heard ye and the honorable Walter speak openly of treason and murder.”

“And ye believe her word o’er that of a mon, a fellow knight? She points the finger of guilt at us and tries to make us bear the weight of her sins. Walter ne’er should have become betrothed to the wench, ne’er thought of tying his good name to those reivers, the Armstrongs. If ye wish to find your traitors, then go and find her, find one of the Armstrongs of Aigballa, or even one of their kin the Murrays. There are enough of that cursed clan that e’en ye should be able to find one. They breed like rabbits. Go and find my cousin,” David demanded. “He will vouch for me.”

“Vouch for ye? Ye expect me to accept the word of a traitor? Didnae ye listen to what I just told ye? Ye have condemned yourself with your own mouth. Walter is in this plot as deep as ye are. Deeper, or I wouldnae be considering helping ye stay alive.”

Simon continued to listen to David’s denials, meeting each one of them with the sure knowledge of David’s guilt. Each time David demanded Hepbourn’s presence, Simon met the request with cold contempt. He did, however, begin to think David had more backbone than his reaction to talk of torture had implied.

If nothing else, the man was certainly loyal to Hepbourn. Hepbourn would toss David to the wolves without a moment’s hesitation. David needed more than Simon’s word to believe it, however, and Simon did not have the time and inclination to spend hours trying to wear David down. He needed the break in the man’s composure to come quickly, preferably without any of the horrendous tortures he had mentioned to him.

“Ye are so verra certain Hepbourn will come to your aid, are ye?” asked Simon, and watched David glance down at the floor before looking back at him and nodding. He had watched David closely for long enough to recognize that moment of doubt. “So be it. Peter, find something for this trusting fool to write on so that he might send a plea to his loving cousin.”

Once David had written out his message, Simon found a boy to deliver it and wait for a reply. After the first hour of waiting David no longer looked so confident of rescue. The boy did not return with a reply until almost three hours had passed, saying that Hepbourn would not answer until he realized the boy would not leave. Simon suspected Walter had needed time to think of what served him best in the matter. The look on David’s face as he read the reply was painful to see. David silently handed it to Simon.

Simon read,
It grieves me more than I can say to learn that my own cousin is part of the treasonous plot against our beloved king. You have been as a brother to me and I loved you as one, but I cannot defend your actions in this. I hope this stain upon the name of Hepbourn does not spread and I will pray for your soul, cousin.

“I have followed him since I was a child,” David whispered. “Heeded his every word. When he started to speak of being rid of the king, I was unsettled, but he presented such logical reasons to me that I was soon swayed. What a fool I have been. I have tossed my life away for the sake of a liar.”

Simon pulled a chair close to David and sat down to face him. “Mayhap. Mayhap not. If ye give me the names I want, all the information ye have concerning the many twists and turns the plot will take once it is set in motion, I will fight for ye. As I told ye, I overheard ye and Hepbourn speaking in the woods the other day and ken weel that ye are uncertain about this, uncertain about the leader. Ye may nay fully appreciate the tale I spin to save your life, but I believe I can weave one good enough when this is over. I believe our liege will be merciful since ye will have helped us put an end to this plot to yank the throne out from under his arse.”

“His cold, dead arse,” David murmured. “They dinnae want to simply remove him from the throne; they want him dead. They believe that will be enough to make the mon’s followers readily bow to the new king.”

“And ye dinnae believe that.”

“Nay, but I became verra good at ignoring such talk. And, when I did express some doubt or unease Walter was verra quick to smother such qualms beneath a flood of praise and reasonable explanations.” David shook his head as he glanced at the note. “I can see now that he ne’er cared for me for all he claims he loved me as a brother. The few lessons I recall as a child are the ones that tell ye to look up to the mon who puts a roof o’er your head, food in your belly, and clothes on your back. He isnae that many years older than me, but that was what Walter did for me.

“But, my God, I was willing to let that lass die for Walter.” He shook his head again. “I kept dreaming of her being dragged to the execution block and would wake in an agony of fear or guilt, but I still followed Walter, didnae I?”

“Aye, and for that alone I would be willing to watch ye die an ugly, painful death, but I need what ye can tell me more than I need that moment of revenge.”

David stared at him for a moment and then nodded. He started to talk and kept right on talking, answering any and all questions put to him. Simon wondered when Walter would realize what a grave mistake he had made in spitting on this young man’s devotion and loyalty. If Walter survived to stand trial, he would see it clearly enough, for Simon was going to make good use of this witness.

“That Walter is an idiot,” said Peter as he and Simon shared an ale by the fire in the small main hall of Peter’s home. “I think that boy considered Walter all the family he had. Father, brother, uncle.” Peter shrugged. “I can see how the boy could be pulled into this mess.”

“So can I, which is why I will do all I can to see he survives his stupidity,” said Simon. “And because I also believe that, from the time he was a small child, David was trained to be Walter’s ever faithful minion. David’s real mistake was to think that Walter returned any of that care and respect.”

“What do we do now? Do we begin to arrest any of the people he told us of?”

“Nay, not yet. We watch them. If we gather them all up now we will lose the chance to get their leader.”

“Who is your brother, if David is to be believed.”

“I think David told us everything he knew or was told. And, aye, the leader is my brother. Do ye think that will be a problem for me? That I will hesitate?”

“Ne’er thought ye would hesitate,” Peter said. “Just that it will be hard, I should think, to mark your own brother a traitor.”

“It willnae be easy but nay for the reason ye think. There is no love between us. If Henry thinks I ken what he is about, he willnae hesitate to try and see me dead. I will continue with this because I have some hope of saving Lochancorrie. If I am the one to bring all of these fools to justice, even the one I must call brother, then the king may weel leave Lochancorrie in Innes hands.”

Peter slowly nodded. “He could also wonder if ye conspire with your brother.”

Simon grimaced and took a deep drink of ale. “I believe I can bring forth enough witnesses to make the king see that that would never happen.”

“I pray ye are right. I would hate to see all the good work ye have done for the king and the people of this country demeaned or forgotten just because you have a fool for a brother.”

“Oh, Henry isnae a complete fool. I dinnae ken what has possessed him to think he has any right to the throne, but dinnae think ye will be dealing with another Walter. Henry is cunning and brutal. If he didnae have such idiots as Walter in his traitorous little army, he could well have gotten just what he wanted.”

“Wheesht, ye werenae lying when ye said there was no love lost between the two of ye.”

“A close watch needs to be kept on David. I should have been more careful when the message went to Walter and the answer sent back. Someone could easily have followed the boy. Walter may have enough family feeling, or be confident enough of David’s undying loyalty, to think nothing needs to be done save let the mon be tried, convicted, and killed as a traitor, but my brother will quickly see that David is a weak link.”

“So ye think someone will be trying to get to David to shut his mouth, nay kenning that ‘tis already too late to stop up the flow.”

“I have nay doubt about it. We have a wee bit of time. Henry willnae be here for another day or two.

But I think we best find a safer place to put our witness. The moment Henry hears that David has been taken up by us, he will be wanting the mon dead and buried.”

Peter rubbed his chin and asked, “Do ye think that is why the lad looked so afeared even though ye told him ye would save his life?”

“I believe so. He said he didnae trust Henry, that the mon didnae seem the sort of mon one would want as king.” Simon grimaced. “David kens I heard him and Walter speaking that day in the wood so he kens I heard how Henry makes sure no one wants to leave, that every mon who kens about the plot will stay with it until the bitter end. Seems Henry butchered one who sought to walk away from it all and did so in front of all the men gathered there that day. Kenning Henry as I do, I suspect it was a show to put the fear of God in every mon there.”

“I just cannae see ye and this mon ye speak of as having the same blood.”

“I wish we didnae. Now, I need David to be carefully watched tonight. Walter may suddenly realize that he cannae leave his cousin in our hands if only because doing so will enrage Henry. By the morrow I will have found another place to put David.”

“Agreed. And what of the other men he named? The ones that are here?”

“We watch them.”

It took several hours to plan the best way to keep a watch on the traitors already in the town. Most of the names David had given him did not surprise Simon. They were men who felt they had been slighted or even cheated by the king, or ones who felt some convoluted bloodlines gave them more of a right to the privileges others enjoyed and were looking to take them as soon as Henry sat on the throne.

They did not know Henry well, Simon thought as he left for the court. Henry would share nothing. He might give away a few things if he thought the man who wanted them could be helpful, but only a few things. The ones who demanded some recompense for helping him get that throne would quickly be silenced. Simon doubted that David would have survived long after Henry became king for the man did have a conscience and Henry would have been able to sniff that weakness out.

Simon was rounding the corner in the road that led to the keep where the king’s court was being held and found himself facing six men. One look at them, even in the dimming light of evening, told him they were hired swords. Walter was probably trying to get rid of him before he could spread the word of anything David might have said.

“Evening, gentlemen,” he said, his hand on his sword. “May I assist ye in some way?”

“Aye,” said a burly dark-bearded man, his sneer revealing that he had long ago lost most of his teeth. “Ye can die.”