The Raven's Wish (39 page)

"Nor are the Gordons." Duncan took a step forward. Robert inched back. Sliding his bare feet in their shackles, Duncan advanced again, just for the pleasure of seeing Robert shrink back toward the door. "You have told the Council much, Robert."

"It is my duty, I believe."

"Your duty? Was it your duty to arrange that cursed marriage offer with Ruari MacDonald months ago? And when you could not carry that off, was it your duty to make certain that the Council knew the bond had been broken? You are Elspeth's half-brother. Where is your loyalty? Where is your bond with your own kin?"

"My kin are Gordons," Robert snapped. "Elspeth is only half-blooded to me. I felt an obligation to see that she was well-married. Beyond that—"

"She is well-married. To me. But you've ensured that she will be a widow. Who will you wed her to now? Someone else who will advance you in the Council's eye? Another MacDonald? Opinion of them goes low, but a gesture at Highland peace might be worth it for you. A Gordon? Marrying your sister to a Gordon would not gain you any favors now." Duncan tapped his chin in a pretense of thinking hard. "Your better course might be to wed her to someone of power. Some widowed judge who could benefit you, perhaps. Or…a lawyer for the Privy Council." Duncan wanted to shout it, and did not.

Robert reached up to knock at the door. "Open up." The guard who had been outside either had stepped away or was very hard of hearing. "Guard!"

Duncan crossed the cell, chains screeching over stone. Robert backed against the door, knocking again. An idea had occurred to Duncan a few days earlier; he decided to give it an airing.

"The Gordons need someone to advance their cause, do they not?" Duncan grabbed a handful of thick wool lined with fur, and lifted Robert to his toes. He knew, as he breathed into Robert's face, that his rank breath alone could have brought someone to their knees. He liked that thought just now.

"You are a cousin of the dispossessed Huntly of Gordon, and a lawyer into the bargain," Duncan said. "And I am one of the lawyers who brought George Gordon to trial. I am the man who interrogated John Gordon before he was condemned to die. And my signature was among others on the document that declared George Gordon, the earl of Huntly, guilty of high treason, even in his putrid, decaying state of health, or death, as it were."

Robert stared at him, his breathing a rhythm of wheeze and pant. "My kinsmen asked me to—it was not I—"

"Not you, never you, is it, Robert. It was not petty jealousy of your sister and the Frasers that brought you after me when the bond was broken. You and your Gordon kin saw a chance for some revenge when ye learned about the Frasers' bond of caution. A chance to break one of the lawyers who broke John Gordon. That is what you were after with me!"

"Guard!" Robert croaked out.

Duncan opened his hands and let go of Robert's cloak. Then he slammed the chain linking his wrists against Robert's throat, pinning him to the cold wall. "I have little pride left to me, and I will gladly commit murder. These chains are long enough to choke a man."

Robert's eyes rolled wildly. "The Council sent you to the Frasers with the bond of caution," Robert said. "I should have gone. So I decided to promise Elspeth to Ruari MacDonald. I thought that the marriage would seal the truce, and your bond would be unnecessary."

"You have no subtle understanding of Scots law, then, even for a lawyer. Go on." Duncan tightened his grip. "What then?"

"You humiliated me with that letter sent to John MacDonald," Robert said. "I spoke with my Gordon cousins. We decided that you had earned some humiliation yourself. But then you married Elspeth—so I paid Ruari MacDonald to steal her. I hoped the Frasers would break the bond. What luck when you broke it yourself." He grinned in the shadows. "Guard!" he bellowed.

Duncan flicked his glance up toward the grate. No movement there yet. As long as this piece of luck held, he would use the time to question Robert. If he were to die, he would at least die knowing the truth.

"And the trial? You pushed those charges through, with yourself as sole witness. I was accused of breaking the queen's peace, countenancing with Frasers under a bond of caution, practicing Catholic rites with a wedding. Spying and treason. Where did you get those letters, Robert? Who forged them?"

Robert shrugged. "Notorious charges, were they not? Some of the Privy Council members enjoy wielding their power and were willing to condemn anyone who disturbs the peace. I emphasized the charge that you underwent a Catholic rite recently with your marriage."

"That was particularly low," Duncan snarled.

"But that alone was enough to get you tossed in the dungeon. A sentence of beheading was easy enough, once they realized that they could make an example of you. The dire consequences of ignoring the Council's wisdom, breaking bonds of caution, and corresponding with the English. Notorious."

"When Moray finds this out, I will be pardoned. He may fine me for the bond, and I will gladly pay. Treason. Hah."

"Moray knows nothing of this, and you can get no word to him. Every friend that you have in this town is either too frightened to be associated with you, or has been turned away at the door. And your wife will not be allowed to visit, should she come."

"Do not bring Elspeth here," Duncan growled.

"If she and her bunch of cousins arrive here, they may be charged with breaking the queen's peace themselves."

"You are a snake," Duncan said, "and easily throttled." He pressed with the chain, his arms trembling with the effort to control himself. He felt a need, a physical urge, to kill this man. Hatred pounded in his gut, raw and heavy.

"I am a Gordon," Robert said slowly, his voice strained by the pressure of the chain at this throat. "And my clan will have revenge on ye, Duncan Macrae, for aiding in our disgrace."

"Your kin disgraced themselves," Duncan said.

"Is everythin' fine wi' ye, Master Gordon?" came a throaty voice at the grate.

Duncan heard the scrape of the key in the lock. He saw the triumph in Robert's pale gaze as he reluctantly lowered the chain. The door creaked open.

"That man attacked me," Robert said to the guard as he scrambled out of the cell.

"Sorry sir, I wasna here, I dinna see it," the guard said.

"God have mercy on your soul," Robert said to Duncan. The door slammed shut.

"And on yours," Duncan growled, and spat on the floor.

The guard returned a few moments later to stand by the grate. "Did ye attack Master Gordon?" he called down.

"I did," Duncan said affably.

The guard chuckled. "I heard ye talkin', an I says, there's twa men that want a moment tae work things out atween 'em. So I left, ye ken, an came back, but ye hadna killed the worm. Did ye want more time, then?"

Duncan began to smile. "That is a voice I have heard afore," he said slowly. "Hob Kerr?"

"Greetings, Cousin Duncan," Hob answered. "Nice to see ye again, though I am sad to see ye in that cell, a fine long-robe like yerself, and one o' the finest reivers we ever knew." Duncan looked up to see grimy fingers shove through the grate and wave at him.

"Hob! How is it you are here in the castle?"

"Man-at-arms now, for steady pay. It pleases me wife more than reivin' in the night. I heard ye were here, and asked for this duty, and just got it. What can I get for ye, Duncan man? A blanket? Some meat?"

"I know one or two things," Duncan said. "Unless, as a guard, you prefer to remain true to your duties. In that case, a blanket and meat would be welcome."

"I am a Kerr, man. Scots laws are a bairnie's playthings to us." Hob dropped his voice to a whisper. "I dinna ken how I might set ye free, though, unless we both flee to France—"

"I can get free myself, with a little help."

"Ask what ye will o' me, man. I will do what I can."

* * *

Edinburgh was unlike anything Elspeth had imagined, a dramatic citadel above teeming streets. She saw a soaring wedge of rock crowned by a silhouetted castle, and the sloping city beneath, hung with a blue haze of smoke. A single broad street with a maze of cobbled side streets, crowded with tenements and people. Thousands, it seemed to her, wherever she looked, along the streets, in doorways and staircases, hanging out of windows, leaning against walls eyeing the Highlanders as they rode past on their short, sturdy horses. Even in Inverness, she had never seen such a conglomeration of people. Unaccustomed to such crowds, she tensed her hands on the reins and rode on.

Nor had she anticipated the sneering laughter as they entered the city. Silent and wary, following Alasdair as he led them along, she and her cousins heard the hoots and guffaws of Lowlanders who seemed to find their Highland dress quite amusing. Her cousins wore their wrapped and brooched plaids over linen shirts, with deerskin vests and plaid trews added for warmth. With their bonnets stuck with sprigs of Fraser yew, and swords and dirks gleaming at their wide belts, she thought they looked like fine, strong young warriors. She was proud to ride among them, and could not understand the mockery.

She also understood very little of the words that were called out, for the language was Scots English. But tone, gesture and expression were accurate translators.

"Do not be concerned, girl," Alasdair murmured as she pulled her horse even with his. "There is strong sentiment against Highlanders recently. You are seeing some of that. Ignore it." He smiled at her, and she nodded.

"Where do we go," he continued, "now that you have brought us here? Shall we look in Duncan's rooms for him—he rents a floor of a house just down the way here—or shall we inquire if he is at the castle? He may be with Kirkcaldy of Grange, the captain of the castle, or with members of the Council."

Elspeth shook her head. "He is in the prison. I feel it is so, and he needs us. Where would the prison be?"

Alasdair frowned at her. "Castle dungeon or city tolbooth? A prisoner of Duncan's rank would be in the castle, I think. If he has been incarcerated at all."

"If Elspeth says it is so," Hugh said, riding behind them, "then we will assume it is true."

"Take us up to the castle," Callum said.

Alasdair looked from her to the cousins who flanked her, and then nodded. Lifting her chin proudly, she followed Alasdair, her cousins close behind. Alasdair insisted, first, that they stable their horses in the town. Then they walked up the incline of the castle rock, where a tower housed the gate.

Gaining admittance when Alasdair explained to the guards that Elspeth was the wife of a Council lawyer, the Frasers entered the citadel, leaving their weapons with the gatesman. They walked to a building on the south side of the palace yard, which, Alasdair explained, held both the royal apartments and the dungeons.

At a door in one inner corner, Alasdair spoke to a pair of guards in steel breastplates and helmets. Hugh, who understood some of the Scots tongue, went with Alasdair, asking questions himself. Elspeth waited anxiously, hearing Duncan's name several times, and hearing Robert's name as well. Beside her, Callum, Ewan and Kenneth stood, solid and steady. She glanced at them, and a rush of emotion flooded her heart: her young cousins were men, with little trace of the lads she had always seen in them.

Hugh, standing with Alasdair, was serious and stern, though she knew the gentleness layered beneath; Kenneth and Callum understood loyalty so well that she knew they would willingly give up their lives for her or for Duncan; Ewan might have the soul of a poet, but he had the heart of a warrior, and would not shrink from fighting for Duncan if the need came. Now more than ever before, she saw a deepening maturity in her cousins. Loyal and calm, they stood beside her now, and she knew they would support her in trying to help Duncan. They would see the end of this nightmare with her, no matter the outcome. She closed her eyes briefly, grateful for the blessing of these men in her life.

She opened her eyes to see Alasdair and Hugh turn away from the guards at the door and walk back toward her.

"There has been a trial," Alasdair said. Elspeth nodded, hardly surprised, her gaze fixed on his face. Though she dreaded hearing the rest, she knew that she must.

"Charges were brought against Duncan by the Privy Council through trial by witness—a fast method, with Robert as the sole witness to Duncan's crimes. He was found guilty of disturbing the queen's peace, countenancing with a clan under bond, and agreeing to a catholic rite."

"
Dhia
," Elspeth said. "Where is he now?"

"He is here in the dungeon, just as you said he would be. But we may not see him. Only Robert and a few others have been allowed in on the queen's business. The guards have orders that his wife and family are not to be permitted to see him."

"Why? What is the harm?" Elspeth's heart began to pound heavily. She felt Hugh's hand on her shoulder.

Alasdair looked away, and looked back again, his brown eyes sober. "He has been condemned to a beheading in four days."

She wanted to close her eyes and fade into the haze that clouded her eyesight, but she could not allow herself that. Taking a deep breath, and then another, she faced Alasdair. Hugh gripped her shoulder, and she felt Kenneth's hand on her back.

"I want to see him."

"He is denied visitors," Alasdair said gently.

"I will see him," she said, fisting her hands. "Only Robert is allowed into his cell?" Alasdair nodded in answer.

"And where is Robert?" Kenneth asked. "It is time we dealt with the man." Callum and Ewan muttered agreement.

"The guards do not know where he is staying," Hugh said.

"Take me to Duncan's rented chambers," Elspeth said. "I know where Robert may be."

Alasdair frowned, perplexed, and then led them out of the castle and back down the incline to the High Street.

* * *

"Here," Elspeth said. "Regard my half-brother Robert." She turned slowly around, spreading wide the black cloak that covered her from head to foot. Her cousins, crowded into the little antechamber that fronted Duncan's rented rooms, looked at her with amazement and pleasure.