Highland Protector (22 page)

“ ‘Tis just a bairn, sir,” said one of the soldiers, a big, heavily muscled man who watched Walter and made no attempt to hide his disgust. “I dinnae abide with using a wee bairn to threaten someone.”

“And I cannae abide failure or traitors,” snapped Walter. “This woman killed the king’s cousin and is plotting to kill the king.”

“All by her wee self or are the bairns going to help her?”

“Best ye watch yourself, Gowan. ‘Tis ne’er wise to speak to your betters that way, laddie.”

Ilsabeth chanced a glance at the soldier who so openly disagreed with Walter’s actions. It was obvious the man was biting down hard on his tongue so that he did not blurt out his opinion of who was the better man. The other soldiers said nothing but looked as if they agreed with Gowan. Elen remained remarkably still while a white-faced MacBean stood in the doorway, his gnarled hand patting the shoulder of a weeping Old Bega. Reid stood utterly still right in front of Walter, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on his sister. It had to be Reid who was keeping the ever busy Elen so still, Ilsabeth was certain of it, but he could not do it for hours.

“Put her down, Walter,” Ilsabeth said in as cold and calm a voice as she could muster. “The child has done naught to ye. She is no part of all this.”

“We make a trade. Ye for this child. Ye step o’er here and I will set the lass down so that she can run to her brother. If ye keep refusing, I will cut her wee throat.”

“Bastard.”

There was no other choice for her to make. It was her or Elen. There was something in Walter’s gaze that told her he was not bluffing. That Walter could even think of killing such a small child just because he did not wish to fight for his prize made Ilsabeth ill. What had she seen in such a man? A better question might be, how could she have missed this ugly side of him?

Praying that Simon was close to bringing this man to justice, Ilsabeth marched over to him. “Put her down now, Walter. And if there is e’en one drop of blood on her, I will eviscerate you.”

Walter snorted in crude derision of her threat. “Ye? Wheesht, ye havenae got a warrior’s skill or heart, lass.”

He set Elen down. Reid grabbed his sister and ran to MacBean and Old Bega. Ilsabeth waited until Walter looked at her and then she punched him right in his lovely bright smile. She heard one of the soldiers mutter that he could have told the fool Ilsabeth would do that and she suspected it was the man she had punched in the nose. While he stood there trapped by a sense of shock, she took full advantage of it and rammed her knee into his groin.

As Walter fell to his knees retching and moaning in pain, Ilsabeth looked at the soldiers. They eyed Walter with a man’s sympathy for the pain but little else. She took a cautious step toward the door. They all shifted position just enough to keep her trapped in the kitchen. They might not like Walter or agree with all he did, but they were loyal to the king and she was an accused traitor. There was no escape.

“Ye bitch, ye bitch, ye bitch,” Walter said, his voice growing louder with each word as he staggered to his feet. “God’s tears but I will enjoy watching your execution.”

That scared her nearly witless, but she pushed away the horror of what she might yet face if Simon could not save her in time. “We will see who will watch who die,” she said quietly.

Walter reached for her, but Gowan grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the way. “She is the king’s prisoner, sir.”

“Ye are protecting this traitor?” Walter said, glaring at the man.

Gowan did not even blink. “I am holding the king’s prisoner, sir. One the king himself is eager to speak to. I am thinking he would like her to be able to speak. In your anger ye may do something that will prevent that. Shall we go?”

“Ilsabeth,” Reid said, his young voice shaking with the tears she knew he would fight not to shed before all these men.

“Hush, Reid,” she said, and smiled at him. “Ye will be safe here.”

“I will go and fetch Simon.”

“Aye, ye do that, laddie,” said Walter. “He has a few questions to answer. The first being why he was hiding away a woman wanted for treason.”

“He was protecting the king’s prisoner,” said Ilsabeth. “When ye came I was scrubbing the floor, Walter. That is hardly the act of a woman creeping about and ready to flee. And ye do ken that Sir Innes would ne’er turn a person o’er to trial and execution until he was verra sure that was what was warranted. Mayhap he just feared that he wouldnae be given the chance to find out the truth ere some zealous fool executed me.”

“Get her out of here,” he snapped at the soldiers, and then he glared at MacBean. “Ye best tell your master he has some explaining to do. The king will be verra interested in where we found this traitor.”

“She isnae a traitor,” yelled Reid as the soldiers escorted Ilsabeth out of the house, Walter limping behind them. He looked at MacBean after the door shut behind the men. “She isnae.”

“Of course she isnae, laddie,” said MacBean. “Best ye and I go and hunt down Simon. He needs to ken what game is being played now. I am thinking he will also be in need of a few calm heads about when he hears this.”

Ilsabeth stared at the king, idly thinking that he did not look any different from any other man yet not sure why she had ever thought that he would. What he did look like, however, was an angry man and this one had the power to cause her some real harm. Walter stood near her, but she noticed that Gowan managed to always keep himself between her and Walter.

“She was found in Sir Simon’s own house?” the king asked.

“Aye, my liege,” replied Walter. “He was hiding her beneath his own roof.”

The king leaned forward in his chair and studied Ilsabeth, frowning at her water-stained and worn skirts. “He wasnae keeping her verra weel, was he? What is that on your skirts, woman?”

“I was scrubbing the floor when the soldiers arrived, my liege,” Ilsabeth replied, and watched Gowan nod when the king glanced at him for confirmation.

“No guards? No bonds?”

“Nay, sire,” replied Walter.

“I was asking the lass here, Sir Hepbourn.” The king looked at Ilsabeth. “Weel?”

“No bonds, sire, but MacBean was my guard,” Ilsabeth said.

“I see. And how long have ye been there, living under Sir Simon’s roof?”

“Since three days after I had to run from my home, sire.”

Anger tightened the king’s features. “After ye stuck your dagger in my cousin.”

“Nay, sire. I ne’er even met your cousin. I have no idea how my dagger ended up in him but it soon became clear that I wasnae going to have a chance to find out or defend myself.”

“So I am to believe that ye didnae kill Ian and ye arenae planning to kill me. Ye and your family are all innocent, are they?”

“Aye, sire.”

Walter snorted. “No Armstrong has e’er been innocent.”

Ilsabeth glared at him. “Ye still have all your cattle, dinnae ye?” She heard one of the soldiers snicker, then hastily smother the noise after one glance from the king.

“Weel, I think I must speak to Sir Simon. I must say I am disappointed that he didnae tell me he already had ye in his possession. It makes me wonder what game he is playing and I grow verra weary of games.”

“Sire, all he does is seek the truth,” Ilsabeth said. “My kin asked him to find the truth about the accusations against us. That is all he has been doing.”

“We shall see. Take her and lock her up.”

Ilsabeth fought the urge to try and wrestle free of her guard. It took all of her willpower but she managed to leave the king’s presence with her back straight. That strength waned with every step they took down into the bowels of the castle. She prayed that Simon could help her soon for she was not sure how long she could remain sane in such a desolate place.

Simon tensed with alarm when MacBean and Reid arrived at the little cottage where they were now keeping David. He had told MacBean where it was so that he could be reached in an emergency. The fact that Reid looked as if he had been crying only increased his alarm.

“The soldiers came to the house today,” said Mac-Bean. “Sir Walter Hepbourn brought them and they have taken away Ilsabeth.”

For a moment not a single thought went through Simon’s head. Then fear rushed through his body and he began to move to the door, his speed increasing with every step. He was about to open the door when MacBean and Peter leapt on him, holding him firmly to the floor as he thrashed and cursed them. It took him more minutes than he cared to consider before his fear receded and his mind cleared.

“Let me up,” he demanded.

“Ye arenae going to go racing off to rescue her, are ye?” asked MacBean.

“Nay just yet,” he said and, after Peter and Mac-Bean got off him, he stood up and brushed off his clothes.

“What do ye mean by nay yet?” demanded Peter.

“I mean that I will do all I can to bring the real traitors to the king and get her out of the prison she now sits in,” Simon replied. “But, if there is a trial and it even looks as if she will be marked for execution, I will get her away from here.”

“Fair enough,” said Peter, and moved to pour MacBean an ale and get Reid some cider.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Simon asked MacBean, and listened carefully as MacBean and Reid told him everything they had witnessed.

“Gowan is a good mon,” said Peter.

“Aye, he is, and I can find some comfort in the fact that he kens she is there as weel as the sort of mon Hepbourn is.” Simon dragged his hand through his hair. “I misjudged the man. Somehow he found out where Ilsabeth was. He kenned she had been seen about town but I cannae see how he would feel sure enough that I sheltered her that he would drag the king and his soldiers into it.”

“That is something only he can answer.”

“And I will ask him when ‘tis my turn to question him. But now I had best go and see the king.”

“May I come?” asked Reid.

Simon stared down at the boy for a moment. Reid was a handsome little boy and it was clear that he loved Ilsabeth. Simon also knew that the king had a soft heart when it came to small children. It might not help Ilsabeth much for the king to see the foundling boy she had taken in, but it certainly could not hurt.

“Do it,” said Peter. “It may help if he sees that she has the heart to take in a child and that the child loves her. ‘Tis the way of some men to believe that a lass who can love and be loved by a child couldnae possibly do something like kill a mon or betray a king.”

Simon took Reid with him, swinging the boy up into the saddle of his black gelding and then mounting behind the child. Reid was silent and Simon appreciated the boy’s quiet for he had to think. He was sure that Hepbourn would have taken full advantage of the fact that Ilsabeth had been hiding in his home, making sure the king heard it and heard it again. Simon knew he was going to have to have a very good explanation for something that could easily put him in with the traitors, at least in the king’s eyes.

As they walked through the court, Simon actually felt an urge to smile. Reid’s eyes were huge as he stared around at the grandeur and all the well-dressed people. His amusement was fleeting, however, for he recognized what the sly glances and whispers meant. Hepbourn had already begun to spread his lies.

It was not encouraging that he was immediately admitted to the king’s chambers. There had been a brief argument with the guard for the man wished to hold Reid back. When Simon faced the king and saw the anger in the man’s eyes, he wondered if he had made a mistake in fighting for the boy’s presence at his side. The way Reid slipped his small hand into his told Simon that Reid had also seen that anger.

“Ye brought a child with ye?” demanded the king. “He was the one to bring me the news about Ilsabeth Murray Armstrong’s arrest and he was hoping to hear what has happened to her, sire,” Simon replied.

“She is in the dungeon. Where else would she be.” The king frowned at Reid when the boy gasped. “I hope ye dinnae mean to start crying.”

“Nay, um, sire,” said Reid. “I just thought someone would talk to her first and then they would see that she couldnae do anything as bad as what they say she did.”

“I talked to her, ye impertinent whelp,” the king said, but Simon could hear a touch of amusement in his voice. “I havenae decided on her yet so she will stay where she is until this is all settled.” He looked at Simon. “It is where she should have been from the beginning.”

“I decided that, if all she told me was true, she could be in danger,” replied Simon. “Nay from ye but from the ones who marked her as a killer and a traitor.”

“So there are traitors in my court.”

“I think ye always kenned that there were, sire.”

“ ‘Tis nay so bad to hope one is wrong. She stays where she is, Sir Simon. Now that she has been found, that is how it must be.”

“For how long?”

“As long as needed. Ye said ye are close to getting my traitors. Best ye work a little faster. The lass seemed honest enough whilst Sir Walter Hepbourn makes my skin crawl, so I am favoring her at the moment. If that begins to look like a weakness I willnae do it anymore but will start a trial.”

Simon desperately wanted to blurt out every name he had and let the king send his soldiers out but he bit his tongue to stop the words. That would allow too many to escape and he wanted them all, especially the ones allied with his brother, who had begun the whole plot. He just prayed that Ilsabeth would understand why he had to leave her there.

“May I speak with her, sire?” he asked.

The king studied him for a minute in a way that made Simon a little uneasy. “Nay, not yet. Mayhap that will prod ye onward and settle this matter more quickly. Dinnae look so insulted. I dinnae think ye have joined the ones plotting against me. That doesnae mean I am certain ye havenae been fooled by a bonnie face. I also ken why ye willnae just give me names, but I would weigh the worth of their lives against the only one we have even the smallest proof against.”

“As ye wish, sire.”

“Go. Go and do what ye do best. I ken ye are near the end of this. End it soon, even if ye have to be a wee bit less meticulous.”

“She didnae do it,” said Reid. “Sire,” he mumbled, and blushed.