Highland Protector (28 page)

“ ‘Tis no wonder I have lost this battle,” Henry said, staring at Walter in a way that told Simon his brother was envisioning all the vicious ways he would like to kill the man. “I depended too much on a fool and a coward.”

“I cannae understand why ye even started it,” said Simon, grunting softly in pain when Wallace began to tend to his wounds. “Ye have no claim to the throne.”

Henry shrugged. “As much claim as the mon sitting on it now. I would ken how to rule this land. The king is too weak, too merciful. It takes a strong hand to rule a country and make it great.”

Staring into Henry’s face, Simon could see the madness clearly now. “Ye dinnae even think ye have a rightful claim, do ye. Ye just wanted to be king.”

“Aye. I have been the laird of a small holding for nigh on to fifteen years. It was time to better myself.”

“Is that why ye killed our father? Because ye felt it was time?”

“Aye. The fool had ruled long enough but he wouldnae name me his heir, wouldnae step aside. He was so strong, so cursed healthy, I would have been an old mon myself ere he died and the laird’s chair was empty.”

“What do ye mean, name ye his heir? Ye were always his heir.”

“Nay after the fool looked around and realized I was the only son left. He kenned it was me who had gotten rid of all of ye. It was then that he began to talk of making ye his heir. Weel, that wouldnae be right. I was the firstborn, after all. Since ye didnae have the decency to draw near enough for me to be rid of ye as I was rid of the others, the only other way to see that ye didnae get what was mine, was to be rid of the laird. When ye were eighteen, I thought I had finally rid myself of ye as weel, but ye lived.”

“Are ye saying that ye killed our brothers? Nay, ye cannae have for I am certain I have been hearing of them from time to time. I was told they had all been fostered out.”

“I dinnae ken how ye could have heard about them as I tied them up, put them in a wee boat that wouldnae stay afloat for verra long and set them adrift on a very big, very deep loch. E’en if they got themselves free of the ropes, they couldnae swim, could they.”

“They didnae have to,” said Tormand, his quiet, deep voice cutting through Simon’s shock. “They were picked up out of the water ere they drowned by a passing fishermon.”

Henry cursed and shook his head. “I cannae believe how impossible it was to get rid of ye. Ye would think I would have succeeded in but one of my attempts.”

“Ye ken where my other brothers are?” Simon asked Tormand.

“Aye, and they are all healthy. They are also good men although they are swords for hire from time to time.” He glanced at the ones Simon and Gowan’s men had defeated. “Nay like these fools who dinnae have the sense to ken that they were accepting the coin of a madmon.” Tormand looked back at Henry as if fascinated. “Ye should have waited to see if they truly did drown. Just curious as to how ye thought to explain that they were all tied.”

“I assumed they would sink to the bottom of that verra deep loch and ne’er trouble me again. But, ye are right. I should have waited about to make certain of it.”

Simon felt an urge to be sick. “They were little more than bairns.”

“They were a threat, as ye were. And the one thing I wanted of ye, ye couldnae even give me that. A son. Nay, I got just another wee, puling girl child. I kenned she would have your eyes and she would be staring at me, judging me, so I rid myself of her as weel.” He smiled coldly at Simon. “It wasnae hard because she was sickly and I had already had some practice at that with my other children.”

Simon staggered a little and Wallace caught him, steadying him. The madness in Henry was so clear, so chilling, as he spoke of killing children. Of killing Simon’s child, his young brothers, their father, and even his own children. For reasons of his own Henry felt like talking and every word out of his mouth was horrifying.

“Weel, ye failed to rid yourself of your brothers,” Tormand said. “They havenae been dead all these years, just wise enough to stay so hidden away that ye would think them dead. They may even come and watch your execution so ye may get another chance to see them as ye are made to pay for your treason.”

“Where are my brothers?” demanded Simon, unable to stomach listening to any more of what Henry was spewing out.

“Ye will see them soon. I was but curious as to why this madmon would do such a thing. As ye said, your brothers were just bairns.”

Simon looked at Walter, who stared at Henry as if he had never seen the man before. “Seeing more clearly, Hepbourn? Seeing that ye gave up all ye had for the sake of a madmon?”

“I am nay mad,” Henry said, acting highly insulted. “I am but logical and do what is necessary to stay the laird and keep Lochancorrie safe and the people fed.”

Wallace’s snort of derision told Simon that Henry was seeing only what he wished to. Simon could not bear to hear any more. He had known that Henry killed easily and that he was one of the most brutal men he had ever met, but the coldness with which he spoke of killing so many of their own blood terrified Simon.

“Time to take him to the king to be judged,” said Gowan as he stepped up to Henry, grabbed his bound arms and yanked him to his feet.

“Do I ken who ye are?” asked Henry. “There is something verra familiar about you.”

“I suspicion I look like my cousin,” Gowan said as he roughly dragged Henry along the rocky ground.

“Your cousin?”

“Aye. She was your first wife’s maid. We were all set to bring her home, kenning that she wasnae happy, that she was afraid. When we got there all we found was her body after ye were done with her. E’er since that day my family has sworn to make ye pay despite the fact that they are poor and powerless. Weel, ye may soon die for other reasons than the rape and murder of a wee lass of barely fifteen, but it will do. Aye, it will do verra fine indeed.”

“Weel, that was interesting,” murmured Tormand as the men that had come with Simon and Gowan began to take the prisoners away.

“He kills like a child who sees a toy he wants and just takes it,” Simon said. “Henry sees what he wants, and if someone stands in the way, he kills them.”

“Aye and that is his madness.”

“And my brothers are alive?”

“Verra much so but it took telling them that Henry was about to meet his much delayed fate to get them to come out of hiding. Ye will see them soon. Best go with the others and take the prisoners to the king.” He nodded toward the small group of men from Lochancorrie who were talking to Wallace.

“Save for them. Gowan didnae think they were any trouble and left them for ye to see to. Let the others who so hastily dropped their swords escape as weel. Good mon, Gowan.”

“A verra good mon,” Simon murmured, “who is eyeing my place as the king’s hound.”

“I heard. Ye willnae be able to do it as ye have been for ye are now a laird. There is a clan and lands that need you.”

“But will the people of Lochancorrie want another from that family of brutes and madmen to rule over them?”

“Ye arenae your father or Henry.”

Simon prayed he was not, but a knot of fear had formed in his belly. He instructed Wallace to take the Lochancorrie men to his home while he went to the king along with the prisoners. Tormand ambled along at his side and Simon knew it was so that he could take Ilsabeth with him when she was free.

That was for the best, he told himself. He was about to turn his brother over to the king, a traitor and a madman. He had three other brothers who might be untainted but he could not know until he met them. He had had a child with his brother’s wife and that child had been murdered. No matter how much Henry deserved his fate, it was going to be Simon who handed him over to it, so he would soon have his own brother’s blood on his hands. There was so much wrong with him and his family he could not see making any woman accept him, especially the one who had suffered so much from the crimes of his own brother.

He had to let her go, he decided. Had to let her find a man who was not weighted down as he was.

Or a man who might well have the seed of madness in him, a seed that could be given to any child they might have together. Nor could he make her turn her back on her family, who would undoubtedly hate him for his family’s part in causing them to spend the last few weeks hiding as soldiers ransacked their home.

“Ye have a look on your face, friend, that tells me ye are thinking hard,” said Tormand. “Why do I think that is a verra bad idea?”

“ ‘Tis always best to think things over when one is about to hand one’s mad brother over to the king to be tried, convicted, and executed. I am about to stain my hands with my brother’s blood. And ye are about to take Ilsabeth back to her family where she belongs.”

“Jesu, I kenned I wasnae going to like how ye were thinking.”

Her cell was seventeen paces wide and one and thirty paces deep. It was rather roomy for a prison cell, she thought, as she paced back toward the cell door. Ilsabeth knew the battle with Henry would not end with some quick, simple sword fight, but she did think it had been too long since Simon, Gowan, and the others had finally gone looking for Simon’s brother. She certainly doubted it was civilized debate that was keeping everyone away for so very long.

Despite her efforts not to put Simon and Henry together in her mind, as brothers, Ilsabeth found she could not fully control her own thoughts. Simon and Henry shared a look about them and she had to wonder if any of Simon’s other siblings had that look as well. Perhaps she would look into his bloodlines, she mused, and hastily shook the idea away. Simon had to know his own bloodlines, had to know which relatives, if any, he had who might shelter his younger brothers. And his brothers had to have heard at least one tale about Simon yet they had made no effort to get to know him, talk to him, or even just go to Simon’s house to see what he looked like.

She did not understand families like that. Ilsabeth knew Henry had to have been a source of the poison that had torn apart the family, but why had the ones Henry tormented and hurt never banded together against him? It made no sense to her. It was as if the other three brothers had escaped and made no effort to see if Simon had managed to do the same.

“Bastards,” she muttered as she began to stomp back and forth across her cell, pleased to have some target to hurl her anger at. “Simon has been a king’s mon for years. It wouldnae have taken his younger brothers much effort to just open their eyes and look about a little to find him.”

“But we did.”

Ilsabeth was surprised that the screech that escaped her had not brought every guard in the area rushing to her cell. Then she remembered that every guard around, except for a few hand-chosen ones left to keep the king surrounded and protected, was hunting down Henry Innes of Lochancorrie and stupid Walter. She felt a pinch of fear over the fact that she was unguarded and there was a stranger there, but calmed herself with the knowledge that she was safe where she was.

“Who are ye?” she demanded, edging close enough to the cell door to get a better look yet staying out of reach of whoever was standing there watching her.

There were three of them. The tallest of the three leaned against the bars of her cell and replied, “I am Malcolm Innes. This is my younger brother, Kenneth.” He pointed to the one standing by his right shoulder. “And this is my youngest brother, Ruari,” he added, and pointed to the young man standing on his left. “I believe ye are acquainted with our brother Simon and, sad to say, our eldest brother, Henry.”

“How did ye come here? Now? Today instead of years ago?”

“We have come because your cousin Sir Tormand Murray told us that Henry will soon be gone. He was why we stayed in hiding. He tried to kill us.”

“But, ye would have been nay more than bairns,” she said.

“Aye. He tied us up and tossed us in a wee boat that had a lot of small holes in it. Then he pushed it out onto the waters of a verra large loch. I recall him telling us that it was also verra deep and no one would e’er find our bodies.”

Ilsabeth could see it all too clearly and she pressed her hands over her mouth for a moment, before removing them enough to whisper, “How did ye survive?”

“A fishermon from the clan that lived across the loch. He pulled us from the water just before the boat finished sinking. I told him we could ne’er go home, nay as long as Henry lived or before we were big enough, strong enough, and powerful enough to kill him. So he took us to his laird. His laird decided his lands were too close to Henry’s for our safety and so he sent us to his brother who had married a laird’s daughter far up into the Highlands. That is where we have grown and learned to wield a sword, daggers, our fists.” He shrugged. “Sometimes we sell those skills to ones who need them. It helps the clan, which is poor and small.”

“But, Simon would have helped ye. He has been one of the king’s men for years now and he has both power and skill. If ye had come and told him what Henry had done, he might have been able to rid Lochancorrie of that madmon ere now.”

“Mayhap. I ken that we hid longer than we needed to, but ye werenae stuck in that boat, tied, unable to swim even if ye kenned how, and kenning that ye will die and have to watch your brothers die, too.”

“True. I wasnae. ‘Tis hard to understand a mon who would so easily kill wee lads, especially when they are of his own blood. Wasnae your father still alive then? He wouldnae have wanted ye all dead, would he?”

“I dinnae ken what our father thought when we all disappeared but he didnae come looking for us, did he. Nay, father wasnae like Henry, but he was a brutish mon. If he thought we had been killed, ‘tis plain to see that he didnae look to the one who did it or why.”

“So why are ye here now?”

“To see Simon and, mayhap, return to Lochancorrie. I have ne’er forgotten our home for all that it wasnae a verra happy place for us as children.”

Ilsabeth stepped a little closer to the bars to study the three young men. They all held the look of Simon although Ruari was of a larger build, like Henry. The gray eyes were the same, just different shades of the same color. If Henry were defeated, Lochancorrie would have need of such men.