“But are you sure it was him?” Amelia asked. “Perhaps you are mistaken.”
“Always giving everyone the benefit of the doubt,” Iain said. “I admire that in you, Amelia, but in this case there can be no doubt of it. He’s the only one besides me who knew where Duncan would be that night. Angus was supposed to bring Fergus and Gawyn to meet him in the cave, to discuss the future of the Butcher’s campaign, but he went to the English soldiers instead. A boy who was spying for us saw him there, and rode hard totellhis father, but it was too late.”
“But why would Angus do that?”
“He was angry with Duncan. He believed his actions were a betrayal to Scotland.”
“Because he proposed to me,” Amelia finished for Iain—
once again feeling as if this wasallher fault. “But I broke off our engagement,” she told them. “I had already left him. Byallaccounts, it was over, and hekilledRichard, which is exactly what Angus wanted.”
“Aye, but Duncan was going to give up his crusade as the Butcher,” Iain told her. “He didn’t want to fight any longer, at least not with his axe.”
She took a moment to ponder this news. “He was truly going to give it up?”
Josephine nodded. “Aye, Amelia. He couldn’t live with any more blood on his hands. He told Angus he was going to retire the Butcher for good.”
Amelia bowed her head in sorrow forallthe pain he was forced to endure because of her, especial y now, when he was England’s prisoner, tortured and sentenced to death.
She sat down on a chair, then lifted her gaze and looked pleadingly at Iain. “We have to get him out of there.
Everything he did, he did to protect others and fight for their safety and freedom. He cannot die. He deserves a chance to live.”
“But how, Amelia? How do we get him out?”
Her thoughts returned to the one thing he had asked of her. “Al he wanted,” she said, “was to speak to a priest. He wanted to confess his sins before he died. I denied him that, because I could not bear to give up hope that I could save him. But I think it’s time I respected his wishes.”
“That’s very kind of you, Lady Amelia,” Gawyn said, “but it does not bring him back to us.”
“No,” she said, “but I believe if we can get a priest into hiscell, we may be able to deliver him to a safe haven, without ever hurting a single soul.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Father Douglas arrived at FortWilliamon a Wednesday. His coach, drawn by three impressive chestnut geldings,rolledthrough thevillageof Maryburgh and passed through the fortress gates at noon. He was greeted by a young sentry, then escorted into the officers’ mess for a hot meal of pork stew and rye bread,followedby fruitcake and sweet cream for dessert.
He had the pleasure of meeting Colonel Worthington in his private chambers after the midday meal. The colonel offered him a glass of claret and informed him that the Butcher of the Highlands had been tried for treason that morning and had been found guilty.
His sentence was asfollowed: He would be removed from FortWilliamin five days. He would then be transported to the Tolbooth in Edinburgh, where he would remain, incarcerated, for twenty-seven days. On the twenty-eighth day, he would be hanged.
Colonel Worthington was against such a public and lavish display. He believed there would be a riot, not to mention the fact that the risk of escape during the transfer was too great.
He believed the Butcher should be put to death at FortWilliamas quickly as possible, but sadly, politics prevailed and the King’s advisors wished otherwise. They’d communicated their instructions for the Butcher’s imminent capture and death six months ago.
“It is why I am a soldier and not a politician,” the colonel said with a heavy sigh as he sipped his claret. “I have no interest in showmanship. I want only results, without such pointless fanfare.”
Later that evening, Father Douglas was escorted to the prison by two heavily armed guards. They unlocked thecelldoor and waited outside while he heard the Butcher’s confession.
* * *
Thefollowingmorning, a whistle blew. Two guards woke inside a prisoncell, chained to awall. Their heads were throbbing, their weapons gone. A third guard dashed through the corridor to the Butcher’scell. “Wake up, you cockeyed fools!” While the two soldiers sat up groggily, the one outside fumbled with his keys, dropped them on the floor, bent to pick them up, then unlocked the Butcher’s door and pushed it open.
His wide-eyed gazefellupon the priest, Father Douglas, chained to thewalland gagged with a wad of green tartan.
He was fast asleep and wore nothing but his linen shirt. His robes were gone.
The guard hurried to free him. He unlocked the manacles andpulledthe gag out of the priest’s mouth. “Are youallright, Father Douglas?”
Father Douglas pressed a hand to the back of his head and groaned. “My word, someone must have clubbed me.”
