9
The moment the steward’s face disappeared from the hatch and they heard his footsteps fade down the passage, Finlay knew what to do.
“Wheesht!” He put his finger to his lips and then pointed up at the ceiling.
Whatever Isla had to say had to be said next to the privy hole. The three of them huddled in the corner, and Isla whispered the words that were on everyone’s mind.
“Six thousand sovereigns, Faither?!”
The blacksmith did not make eye contact as he mumbled, “Aye, the man must have been up with the ledgers all night. But he got the amount fairly accurate.”
Finlay heard Isla intake her breath. “Faither! It’s a fortune! Why have ye never told me before?”
Master McDonnell shuffled his feet. “I thought it would be a nice surprise for ye, Daughter. I have nae paid much attention to ye over the years. It’s been hard on ye since yer mither passed away. Then, one day, ye were a woman an’ throwin’ pitch over the battlements at McTavish raiders, an’ I kent I had must settle yer dowry on ye soon before it was too late for ye to enjoy it…”
“Ye left it too late,” Finlay said, but when he saw the McDonnells’ scared faces, he wanted to give them hope. “If lust does nae get the guards to open the door, greed will. Ye can be sure the men on duty heard how much the steward said ye had and will accept the promise of gold. Wait a wee while before we act.”
They whispered together for a bit longer and then waited as Finlay had instructed. After they had been brought supper and the day was turning into night, Isla gathered all her courage and went to the barred hatch in the door. If they tried to escape any other way, the eavesdroppers were still at the spyhole and would become suspicious.
“Guard?! Can ye hear me? I have a great need to speak with ye.” Isla pitched her voice lower, trying to hide the youthful light tones and sound more alluring and mature. “Please, can ye come to the hatch?”
She knew from what Finlay told her that the guard would be seated at the table in the vestibule outside the dungeon passage. There was a fireplace there that the guards used to keep themselves warm at night because the dungeons were so dank even during the warm months.
When she heard footsteps coming down the passage, Isla tried to make her voice even more enticing.
“Och thank ye, thank ye, kind sir. Please come closer so that I might speak with ye privately.”
The guard did everything Finlay had told her he would do. Pressing his face against the bars, he gave her a charming smile.
“When I heard it was ye callin’ for me, sweet lass, I came as quick as I could. What ails ye?”
Isla pressed her face closer and whispered huskily, “Kind sir, I have some women troubles and beg yer mercy. These idle bampots who are housed in here with me are nae goin’ anywhere. They’re already fast asleep after stuffin’ their guts with soup. Please, will ye be so kind as to let me out so I may tend to me troubles?”
The guard blushed. He was saddened that such a lovely member of the Dougal clan was reduced to begging for her dignity in such a way. He was no mercenary soldier paid for by the steward; his family had been gardeners at the castle for years. They only supported the steward taking over from the laird because they believed his son to be dead after two years away with no communication and were sick of war. He looked over Isla’s shoulder and saw all the men were asleep, leaning against the wall, or lying on the straw. Besides, they were all unarmed, and he had a heavy poleaxe; the blacksmith had crafted the weapon’s ax himself.
“Sure, Miss Isla, let me go an’ get the keys…”
Isla interrupted him. “Just call out for yer partner to bring the keys to us, kind sir. It’s…it’s nice to have such a tenderhearted fellow to talk with again.”
Isla had gone to town a few times with her father and even entered the taverns with him. It was there that she had overheard the way the serving girls flirted with the customers. She mimicked the way they gazed at the men with melting eyes by fluttering her long, dark-red eyelashes and biting one side of her lower lip. The effect was immediate. The guard straightened up and puffed out his chest, eager to do her bidding if he could.
But to answer her question, the guard shook his head. “Nay, lass. I am guardin’ ye alone until the midnight bell rings out. We are short-staffed. Since the steward did no’ hand over the lairdship to Finlay when the auld laird’s son returned home, people are tryin’ to leave the castle by the score. All the entrances are guarded to stop it happenin’ because their departures would mean the castle would lose all its taxpayers.”
Now they knew the castle exits were guarded. When the guard disappeared to fetch the dungeon keys, Isla risked looking back at Finlay, and he gave her an encouraging smile even though he knew she would not be able to see it because her eyes would be blinded by the guard’s lantern. When he heard footsteps coming back, he lowered his head again, pretending to be asleep.
There was the sound of the key turning in the lock. When only Isla slipped out of the narrow opening, the guard immediately relaxed, especially when it seemed as if all the men inside were still asleep. Finlay strained his ears to hear what Isla was saying, but she remained quiet. Then, suddenly, he heard her groan.
“Aah! Me stoMch! I cannae walk…ahh! Please run and fetch some water for me, kind sir! And…and a rag. Ye can ask one o’ the women who work in the kitchen. Please hurry.”
It was so simple. The guard left, telling Isla to stay right where she was and that if she needed warmth, she could wait for him at the vestibule table where the fire was. The guard had nothing to worry about. All the entrances and exits were guarded, and the dungeon door was locked. The moment Finlay realized the guard had gone, all his men sprung to their feet. He went to the hatch, telling Isla to come closer.
“Right, lass. Ye did well. Now, I only need ye to do one more thing for me. If ye look down, to the right, ye’ll keek a wee flagstone that’s a slightly darker gray than the rest. If ye prise it up with yer fingers, ye’ll find the spare key.”
“I see it,” Isla said, and all the men heaved sighs of relief.
“Why does the flagstone stand out from the rest, sir?” the blacksmith wanted to know. “Is that no’ a very careless place to hide a key?”
Finlay shook his head. “It is human nature to only notice things that impede us. If the flagstone was set higher or lower in the ground than all the others, and if it were to trip someone, then it would be noticed. A flagstone that is the same uniformity as the rest but for a darker color draws no one’s attention.”
