In the end, it was MacKay and MacLean who’d ridden away to join the others and report to the king what had happened. Sutherland had insisted on staying with Ewen. “If I leave and something happens to her, my wife will never forgive me. I think I’ll take my chances with Bruce.”
Knowing Mary, it was probably a wise decision. But Ewen was glad for the extra sword—and the extra pair of eyes.
He whistled to let Sutherland know he approached. The newest member of the Highland Guard, a man who could fill in just about anywhere and had taken over the dangerous job of working with black powder after the death of one of their brethren, responded with a hoot before jumping down from a tree ahead of him.
“Anything?” Ewen asked.
“Nay. The prioress locked up about an hour ago. I’ll assume from your tone that you didn’t have much luck either.”
Ewen shook his head grimly. “Did the lad show his face?”
A flash of white appeared in the moonlight as Sutherland grinned. “After last night? I don’t think he’d step within a mile of this place, even if you weren’t paying him to stay away.” He chuckled. “I didn’t realize we had so many admirers in the ranks of English spies.”
“The lad didn’t know what the hell he was doing.”
Last night, before MacKay and MacLean had left, they’d waited for the lad to leave the castle, followed him, and surrounded him in the forest. There were times that their phantom reputation came into good use. The lad, probably sixteen or seventeen, had been terrified initially. He’d blurted out what he was doing for the priest almost before they’d finished asking the question. For over a month, he’d earned a penny a day to watch the new nun in the priory and report to the priest immediately if she went anywhere or did anything. The boy hadn’t understood why he was still watching the place when the nun had left with a man a fortnight earlier, but he was happy collecting his money for as long as the priest wanted to pay.
He’d been stunned to learn he was spying for the English. “I’m not a traitor,” he’d insisted. “I’m a Scot.”
The lad had been so offended, so ashamed, that Sutherland was right—Ewen probably didn’t need to pay him. But he thought it best to ensure the lad didn’t have second thoughts.
They’d instructed him to stay away from the priory, but keep reporting to the priest every night as before. Afterward, he was to meet them, and he would be paid a shilling—more than his family probably earned in a week.
Once it was clear they did not mean him any harm, the lad had acted like he was in the presence of demigods, peppering them with questions until they’d been forced to send him away. “Can you really appear out of the mist?” “Do your swords really come from Valhalla?” “Do you have heads under the masks or do your demon eyes glow out of emptiness?” “Where do you go to when you disappear?”
“Perhaps we’ve found a new recruit?” Sutherland said.
Ewen would have laughed if he weren’t thinking that they would be needing one soon. “You never know.”
“So what now?”
“We go back to Roxburgh and wait for the lad to report back to us.”
“And then?”
Ewen wished to hell he knew. He was out of leads. He didn’t realize how much he’d pinned his hopes on today. But one thing was for certain: he wasn’t going to give up until he found her.
Janet stared at her informant in stunned disbelief. The English meant to capture Robert at Selkirk under the auspices of a peace negotiation? It defied every notion of honor. It was a breech of a code between soldiers in warfare—by long tradition, parleys were sacred ground under the cover of a truce. “Are you certain?”
“I would not risk this if I were not. It is all there,” her informant said, referring to the parchment. “I was only fortunate I found this out earlier this evening. The feast day celebration enabled me to sneak out of the castle. But I must return before anyone notices I am gone. You can get this to him in time?”
Janet’s mind was already racing with all she had to do. She would prepare to leave immediately, staying just long enough to say goodbye to the Hendeses, gather her belongings, and with any luck procure a horse. The feast would help in that regard. “I can.”
The words had barely left her mouth before they heard footsteps and the sound of voices.
“Where did she go?” a man said angrily.
Janet felt a flash of alarm but told herself it was nothing. Probably her next dance partner looking for her.
The two women’s eyes met in the darkness. “Go,” Janet said. “Someone is coming.”
The woman nodded. “Godspeed,” she whispered, and to Janet’s surprise, she leaned over to give her a quick hug before turning to go.
But the woman had barely taken a few steps when disaster struck. “There!” a man shouted. “After her! Don’t let her get away.”
A man came running toward them—a big man. Janet didn’t have time to think. She acted on instinct, and her first one was to protect the other woman. Right as the man started to run past her, she stepped in his path.
Her intention was to trip him and sidestep out of the way, but it didn’t work out the way she had planned. Her skirt tangled in his foot, and he was able to grab her. They hit the ground together.
