“What?” Robin sounded scared for the first time. He turned, looking over his shoulder as Eddard walked in, supported by Alan. “He’s supposed to be dead.”
“What makes you say that?” the king asked.
Eddard had walked halfway through the room by this point. He looked at Robin, taking another step. He squinted. “Where is Robin?”
“Right here, father,” Jock said. “Can you not see him before you?”
“I see a stranger. That is not the clan financier.”
“Of course it is,” the king said. “Who else could it be?”
“That is-” All the color drained from Eddard’s face. “You.” He marched forward and whipped the hair from Robin’s head, revealing a bald pate under the wig. “You’re back.” He turned to the king. “It is the barefoot man.”
As the wig fell away, Jock gasped. The man’s face had changed in an instant. It no longer looked like Robin. How had his father seen it and he had not?
The barefoot man hissed, taking advantage of the confusion to shove the guards away from him. He pushed past Eddard, making it almost to the door before it was blocked.
He glanced left and right, grabbing hold of Daisy and pressing a hand to her throat. “Out my way,” he said. “Or I snap her neck.”
He darted forward before the guards had time to react, disappearing through the doorway with her in his arms.
Jock was hot on his heels, chasing the two of them out into the courtyard as the others followed. The barefoot man looked at the front gate of the castle but it was firmly locked. Cursing, he ran into the kitchen, dragging Daisy with him.
Jock made it inside before anyone else. He found the barefoot man by the hearth, scrabbling to dig up the flagstone.
“What are you doing?” Jock asked, skidding to a halt. Daisy ran to his side, hugging him tight. He held her with one hand, the other reaching for his sword.
“The tunnel,” the barefoot man said, pulling the flagstone free and tossing it aside as if it were tree bark. “Still there. I will see you both again.”
He was already jumping into the hole when Jock leaped forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back out.
The barefoot man fought like an animal, his hands clawing at Jock, his teeth suddenly sharper, gnashing at the air, trying desperately to get the laird to loosen his grip.
“The key,” Jock called over to Daisy, fighting to keep away from the barefoot man’s flailing limbs. “Do you still have it?”
“Right here,” she replied.
“Unlock that door.”
She did as he asked. The barefoot man seemed to know what was going to happen as his efforts took on a fresh urgency. Jock dragged him over to the door as Daisy pulled it open.
“Ready?” Jock asked.
“Ready.”
“No!” the barefoot man shrieked. “You cannot do this to me. It is my destiny.”
“Three, two, one.”
He hurled the barefoot man into the cupboard, sending him crashing into the tankards piled up inside.
The villain was up in a second but Daisy already had the door closed. He hurled himself against it and almost got it open. Only Jock’s tremendous strength bearing down on the wood kept it closed long enough for her to turn the key in the lock.
“No!” the barefoot man screamed inside, the word abruptly cut off rather than fading away.
There was no noise. Jock became aware of people behind him. The king and his men had caught up with them.
“Let him out,” the king said. “Unlock that door and I shall deal with him myself.”
