Eachann backed away from her father, and Lara pulled the blanket tighter around her. Knowing the truth—that her escape trapped Sebastien and that he would protect her because of his honor—Lara knew she must get away from them. But how? On the sea, she was at their mercy, and she knew not where they were talking her. She decided that she must wait and watch and come up with some plan. Sebastien told her that a spy always has a contingency plan. She offered up a prayer that she could come up with one now.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Tell us, traitor, what did you gain from your treachery?”
The man questioning him backhanded him again, and Sebastien struggled to remain upright. With his arms bound behind him, it was difficult. When he did not answer, the man punched him in the stomach, and as he bent over from the force of it, punched him in the face again. That blow landed him on the floor, and as he fought to take a breath, a kick followed and then another until he lost consciousness.
He was still on the floor when he woke. Blood poured from his nose and from the wound on his head, and he could not feel his hands. He thought at least one rib was broken, possibly more, making it difficult to breathe.
He lifted his head and looked around. They’d thrown him in the cell that faced the firth. The large barred opening allowed both wind and rain in, and so he was bloodied and cold and wet. Sebastien could not tell how long he’d been there. The same rain that pelted him now had put out the fire in the storage rooms. He’d known the blaze was a distraction when he’d seen it. Leaving the tower, he’d rushed to the chapel because he knew it would be the only way she could get away.
Sebastien knew that Eachann must have crept up behind him and hit him. When he awoke there, she was gone and the doorway, the one he could never find, stood open, as if glaring at his stupidity. He did not bother to follow, for he knew it must lead to the shore, and that they were long gone.
The king’s men were in the hall when he entered, and, led by Patrick Campbell, they arrested him for treason. Patrick had him searched and claimed to have proof of his guilt. It could not have been much, and so the beating commenced to try to get more from him.
Sebastien would never give them anything. He’d promised to protect Lara and the children and he would do that, for if Robert believed that she was a spy, he would think nothing of executing the children as punishment for her crime. After keeping them with him and putting them in danger, Sebastien would have to keep silent to protect them now.
He moved slightly, and pain shot through his arms and chest. He needed to get off the floor and out of the rain. Ignoring the pain, he brought his legs up and rolled onto his knees. It took a long time for the sharp biting ache to ease and for him to be able to breathe. As he did, he heard a guard call out. Soon, the cell was filled with Patrick and his men. They pulled him up by his arms and forced him to stand.
“You will suffer less if you tell us the truth. I promise a quick hanging if you tell us what you gave to the MacDougall and the names of your accomplices.”
Sebastien steeled himself for the blow as he watched the man make a fist and draw his arm back. But it did not come.
“Campbell! Another blow and I will lay you out.”
Sebastien chuckled at James’s threat. There was no love lost between the Black Douglas and the Campbells, so this would give him the chance to take them on without fear of repercussions. Although Sebastien could hear the heated words between them, he could not see them now for the blood pouring into his eyes.
“The king said to hold him for questioning.”
“Aye, I heard him. But the bastard tried to escape, so I had to prevent that.”
It was a lie—they all knew it—but James would not call him on it. That was not his way. “Clean him up and bring him to the hall.”
“Oh, aye,” Patrick said in a bitter voice, one that spoke of being forced to obey.
Sebastien heard James stride away, and waited. Patrick would take at least one more strike at him before releasing him to the Douglas.
“Clean him up? He will be cleaned.”
They dragged him to where the rain fell the hardest and held him there. Patrick left and returned, followed now by several men carrying large buckets of water. They lined the buckets up and forced him to his knees. Grabbing his hair, they pushed his face into the first one. He struggled against their hold, but they were too many and he was weak. Just as he started to pass out, they pulled his head out of the water and threw what was left in his face.
“Nay, lads, not yet. He is not clean yet.”
He tried to take a breath before they grabbed him again, but his chest would not respond. His struggles were for naught and he was held in the next bucket and the next until everything began to fade to black.
At least she was safe. If he had to die to protect her, then it had to be.
“Damn it, untie his hands, I said!”
James again.
Sebastien forced his eyes open and discovered that he now lay in the middle of the hall, on the floor. He felt the slice of a dagger cut through the laces that bound him, and through his skin as well. He could not feel his hands or move his arms, but within a few seconds, they came screaming back to life.
No one said a word as he struggled to his feet. Without the blood in his eyes, he saw that he was surrounded, by his men, James’s men, the Campbells, and none of them looked very happy.
James stood and walked over to stand in front of him. “There are some charges that you must answer to, Sebastien. I am here for the king, to find out the truth.”
“We know the truth, Douglas! He’s a traitor.”
