That impulse had visibly multiplied when Lady Isobel’s corpse was brought to Dunnisbrae.She was in the crowd of villagers when Laird Fergus arrived and ducked low to keep from being recognized.Lady Isobel dead?It was one more crime to place at the feet of the whore.She was thrilled when Stewart locked all those arrived from Killairic into the chapel, insisting that justice be done.
His quest for vengeance began at Dunnisbrae.
And without Laird Fergus to defend her, the infidel would finally get the fate she deserved.
Agnes’ own fate had to improve, as well.She knew it when Laird Stewart summoned her to ride to Killairic with the host, the better for her to point out the location of the prize.Nolan had saddled the palfrey she had stolen from Killairic with Stephen’s aid, undoubtedly guessing his laird’s intent in advance.
Laird Stewart would claim both treasure and Killairic, and he was without a wife.The obvious reward to grant Agnes was to make her lady of all.
They rode hard that morning, pushing the horses toward Killairic.Agnes smiled when Stewart roared at her to lead him to the prize, and she pulled away from the company, liking that she was part of a great scheme.Nolan granted her a wave and the ragged company continued toward Killairic.They would surround the keep, by Stewart’s command, but remain out of range of those on the walls.
“It is here!”she said to Stewart, slowing her palfrey just inside the patch of forest and slipping from the saddle.She led Stewart toward her hiding place.The warrior’s boots left deep imprints in the soil, but it no longer mattered.Agnes would have no further need of the sanctuary and her prize would be moved this very day.
She reached the hollow tree and reached into its interior, her heart in her mouth.She smiled when her fingers brushed the soft cloth of the chemise and she felt the bulk of the reliquary.
“And what is it again?”Stewart asked.
“I do not know.It is gold and covered with letters, as well as large gems,” Agnes said, cradling the bundle in her arms.“They called it a reliquary.”
“A holy relic and a treasure then,” he said, his eyes gleaming.
“One beyond compare,” Agnes agreed and offered the bundle to him.
Stewart did not take the burden, but only brushed aside the cloth, leaving the weight of it Agnes’ grip.He unveiled the prize with haste, then he frowned.Agnes felt her mouth drop open, for she held a rounded piece of wood.
She stared down at it, unable to explain how the gold had changed to wood.
Before she could speak, Stewart struck her.The back of his gloved hand landed so hard upon her cheek that Agnes staggered backward.She dropped the wood and scrambled to pick it up, even knowing it had no value.
“Stupid wench,” Stewart snarled and kicked the wood aside.He raised his hand again and Agnes cowered.“To think that I believed you, a lying, deceitful peasant...”
“But it was here.It was gold.It was beautiful.”Agnes stammered incoherently, even as she realized why the whore had not been punished.“She took it!”she cried, right before Stewart struck her again.
“As if I would believe another lie,” he snarled and spat upon her, then turned to return to his horse.
“You should,” a woman said in heavily accented Gaelic.“For, this time, Agnes tells the truth.”
The whore!Agnes spun to look and found the whore standing in the shadows of the forest, closer to the river.Her arms were folded across her chest and her expression was guarded.
Stewart took a step toward her.“Who are you?”
“She is the Saracen whore Laird Fergus handfasted,” Agnes supplied.
Stewart smiled a little as he surveyed her.“I can see why.Though she is swarthy, she has an allure.Perhaps I will have her next.”He stepped toward the infidel and her eyes narrowed.
“You must speak slowly,” Agnes said.“She scarce speaks Gaelic.”
“And what truth do you claim Agnes tells?”Stewart asked, doing just that.
“Agnes stole the treasure,” the whore said.“I stole it back.”She smiled, looking cunning and confident in Agnes’ view.“If you desire it, we must bargain.”
“I do not need to bargain with an infidel,” Stewart snarled and seized the whore by the arm.She was clearly too small to defend herself against him, for she stumbled and could not shake free of his grip.He flung her to the ground and stood over her, his pose threatening.When she spared him only a scathing glance, he seized a fistful of her hair and drew her to her knees.“Here is my offer, infidel.”Stewart bit off his words slowly.“You will surrender the treasure to me now and I might let you live.”
She parted her lips, no doubt to negotiate, but he struck her so hard across the face that she fell to the ground, stunned.
“Understand that I am not inclined to let Fergus keep his pleasure when he has cost me mine,” Stewart smiled coldly.“Surrender the treasure and I might let you live.”
The whore looked up at him, assessment in her dark eyes.“She said Gavin was the son of Fergus.”
