“Aye, for ye are right. I am dead nay matter what I do and all because I couldnae follow them, nay kenning that Henry wanted to hurt that wee bairn. I dinnae suppose ye will give me my knife back, eh?”
“Later, after we talk. For right now I mean to leave ye with a mon who guards my house. He can decide if ye should have a knife or nay. Heed him, for he is a skilled soldier, as most are who live to a great age.”
“Aye.” When they reached the door, Wallace paused and looked at Simon. “This will cost Lochancorrie dearly, aye?”
“I am doing my best to see that all Lochancorrie loses is its laird.”
“Then God be with ye, Sir Simon, for that will be the greatest blessing to befall the clan in years.”
Chapter 15
Simon followed the guard down into the bowels of the castle. The damp chill of the place grew worse with every step he took and he knew the hard toll it could take on a body. Ilsabeth was so small, so delicate, and unused to such harsh conditions. Fevers lurked in these dark places, ones vicious enough to down a big, battle-hardened warrior. He had to get her out of here.
He was ready to ease his harsh rules for finding the guilty. Simon knew he could be too stern, too exacting. The many times he had seen the innocent pay while the guilty slipped free had made him so. He had more than enough to bring in Walter, Henry, and half a dozen others, all the important ones who had done all the planning and found the soldiers needed to back them up and fight the real battles for them. Simon was sure that his brother would fight any battle and do so with great enjoyment, but a lot of the others he had drawn into his plan were not great warriors.
And then there were ones like Wallace, who was pulled in because Henry needed fighters, threatened to fight a battle they knew was wrong. Or David, who had been trained from childhood to follow Walter wherever he led. Simon knew he had more than enough reasons to want Henry stopped but Wallace’s plight only added to that need. Even though he knew Henry was bad, he had been shocked to hear Wallace say his wife and child were being held hostage to his cooperation, but then had he not just hidden his own children away? Women and children were a weakness and Henry was never reluctant to use a weakness.
The guard nodded toward the cell Ilsabeth was in and then handed him a torch. Simon could not hide his surprise at this easing of the watch and the guard just smiled. “Gowan says she is a good wee lass and he thinks someone has done her a verra bad turn. This wee kindness is the best we can do. I will settle myself in back where I showed ye the wee guard post and ye come by when ye are done visiting.” He then handed Simon the key.
“Thank ye.”
“Oh, and tell her that wee potion she told me about worked on my son. He is already showing signs of getting better and we had thought we would be burying the wee lad soon.”
“Of course.” Simon watched the guard walk away and shook his head.
Ilsabeth could not even stay in a prison without reaching out to others. He could not believe he had ever been suspicious of her. He had grown cynical as well as unbending, he decided. It was to be expected for he often saw the worst people could be or do to each other. When one was surrounded by crime and deceit, one soon saw it everywhere.
Then again, he had believed in Wallace’s innocence quickly. Simon silently cursed. Wallace was not a beautiful woman who made him harden with lust with just a smile. It was apparent that he had also become very cynical about the innocence or honesty of women. Perhaps when this was all over, he would find the courage to swallow his pride and apologize to Ilsabeth for that because he knew his distrust had hurt her.
He stepped up to the cell and set the torch in the holder on the wall. “Ilsabeth?” he called softly as he unlocked the door.
Simon was just stepping into the cell when she flung herself into his arms. He felt her shaking and feared she had become ill already. He touched her forehead and cheeks but found no heat of a fever. He did find them wet with tears, however.
“Ilsabeth, love, what is wrong?”
“Walter came to see me and he brought a guest.”
“Who?” “Henry.”
“Nay, Henry has been banished from the court. That happened years ago and it was a banishment that made it verra clear he was not to come to court as long as this king ruled.” He thought about that for a moment and then cursed. “Damn. Ye dinnae think this is all about Henry’s stung vanity, do ye?”
“I dinnae ken but, Simon, if Henry is banished how did he get into the dungeons? How did Walter get him in? They had no guard with them.” She frowned. “Neither do ye.”
“I was given a gift because Gowan thinks ye have been wronged and the guard who brought me here thinks your potion saved his son.”
“Oh, I am so glad wee Alek is getting better.” She grabbed Simon by the hand and led him over to her tiny bed. “But listen, Simon, it was more than the fact that Henry should ne’er have been in here. He and Walter came in the wrong way. I havenae seen that many people come down here but even the guards come in the same way ye did. Walter and Henry came in from the opposite direction and left that way, too.”
Simon stared at her in shock. That shock caused her words to circle in his mind for a moment, unable to settle. This was a major breach in their defense of the king. Henry could have walked in any time he chose and slithered close to the king with little more opposition than the king’s personal guard. How had all of them missed such a thing? Even more important, who inside the keep had helped the enemy find it?
“God’s blood, this is what Morainn meant.”
“Morainn had a vision?”
“Aye, and she told me to get down here to see ye as ye had some important information. It was about this creeping into the dungeon. Those men ken a way to get in and out without being seen. Weel, I doubt they will come back today for they must have accomplished what they set out to do, but a guard will need to be set. I will look into that when I leave.”
Ilsabeth wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. He smelled so clean she was suddenly, embarrassingly, aware of the fact that she did not. She started to pull away but he held her close and rubbed his cheek against her hair.
“Simon, I am verra dirty,” she protested, “and who kens what has crawled into my hair.”
