Hannah Howell Page 4

  “Oh, aye, and I am queen of England.” The man must think she had all the wit of a slug! she thought, faintly insulted. “Ye have proof of all that?”

  “Of course not. If I were to carry about proof that I work under the king’s own command, ’twould be the same as cutting my own throat. That skinny man working in your uncle’s stables was also in the king’s service. It can be a good place to hear and see a lot. We had an agreement to share our information. Unfortunately, your uncle discovered the man ere he had told me much.”

  “And then murdered him.”

  “I have little doubt of it.”

  She abruptly stood up and walked to the cave entrance. When he had slipped out earlier for water, he had left a small opening to allow in some fresh air and light. Leaning against the rock, she peered blindly out that small opening and tried to organize her thoughts and feelings. Her world had been turned upside down. Her life was threatened. What she needed to concentrate on was—could she trust Sir Revan Halyard or, in fact, anyone? She also needed to fight a strong urge to cry, an urge that already had her eyes wet and stinging.

  And yet, she thought as she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks with her hands only to have them quickly replaced, if anyone had a good reason to cry, she did. There was only so much bad news a person could be expected to tolerate at one time. She dreaded talking to Revan anymore. The man kept pointing out more wrongs every time he opened his mouth.

  And what was she to do about him? she thought as she pulled a handkerchief from a hidden pocket in her doublet and blew her nose. She supposed she would have to trust him—but only so far. They did have a bond of sorts. Her uncle was trying to kill both of them. That threat tied them together whether they wanted to be or not.

  It was his intention of branding her uncle with the heinous crime of treason that troubled her. If Revan was really one of James II’s knights, that was easily explained. However, his interest might be born of darker origins. He could even be as deep into treasonous intrigues as he claimed her uncle was. If that was true, she could well find him as eager to be rid of her as her uncle was. She was going to have to depend on her instincts, and she was not feeling too confident about them at the moment. If nothing else, she could all too easily be led astray by the irrelevant fact that he was far too handsome, in form and face, for any woman’s peace of mind.

  Revan sighed and stood up, cautiously approaching her. He could tell she was crying, but he was not sure there was anything he could say to soothe her feelings. Her uncle was a traitor, a murderer, and a man greedy for power. There was no denying that. Neither could he tell her they would escape the danger they now found themselves in. He simply did not know. Feeling uncomfortable and a little helpless, he stood behind her and ran a hand through his thick hair.

  “I havena lied. I really am one of the king’s own knights.”

  Trying to wipe her eyes dry again, she grumbled, “Ye will pardon me, I am sure, if I am slow to believe you. I dinna ken too many king’s knights who kidnap innocent people or threaten to cut their throats.”

  “I wasna truly going to murder you.”

  “Nay? What would ye have done if they had called your bluff?”

  “Died.”

  That flat answer caused her to turn. She saw no sign of lying in his face. He looked almost as miserable as she felt. She made her decision. There really was no other choice for her. She would trust him, but while telling him what she knew, she would keep a close eye on him.

  “I have seen that my uncle has grown friendly with the Black Douglases. Messengers come and go between them,” she said, turning to stare out the opening again. “My uncle has but recently added many new men-at-arms. His armorer works without ceasing. Fletchers have gathered nearby as well. I had begun to fear we were about to be attacked or raided.”

  “Or were preparing to attack someone else. Have ye seen or heard anything like that?”

  “Nay, I dinna think so. I havena seen any army, if that is what ye are asking. If ’tis treason afoot, the ones involved will be careful about what they say or do.” She took a deep shaky breath, further subduing her weepiness.

  “Aye. However, the Black Douglases have been bold. Sadly not so bold ye ken their every step.”

  “What can my uncle think to gain from this?” She looked at him. “He isna close to the throne.”

  “Nay, but the Black Douglases are. After James the First was murdered, they were but one small lad away from the throne.”

  “Aye, and look what befell those who murdered that king. Ye would think their tortured deaths wouldna be forgotten so easily. My uncle has spent a great amount of coin on men and arms. He must be certain of some reward, something greater than he has spent.” She shook her head.

  “ ’Tis all of that coin flowing so freely that led me to him. Ye are certain ye heard no firm plans? Ye said messengers have been sent between them. Did ye never hear what came from the Black Douglases? Or hear your uncle tell his messenger anything ere he sent him off?”

  She frowned as she thought over his questions. Leaning against the rock, she tried to grasp at some elusive memory. Then it came. She groaned slightly, lightly slapping her palm against her forehead. It had been right before her eyes all the time.

  “The tunnel!” she cried. “Where have my wits gone?”

  “The tunnel?”

  Revan could tell by the look on her face that she had recalled something that could be very important. He felt excitement rise within him. It was impossible to quell it, but he tried. What put that light of revelation on her sweet face might seem important to her but prove nearly useless to him.

  “That dark passageway ye dragged me along while tickling my throat with your dirk?”

  “Ye arena intending to forget that, are ye?”

  “ ’Tis rather hard to forget something like cold deadly steel pressed to the life-giving vein in your throat by some courtier ye had done a kindness for.” It was odd, she mused, but his annoyance over her references to the incident made her feel she just might be able to trust him. “Such base ingratitude is apt to linger in one’s mind.”

  “What about the tunnel?” he snapped.

  “Ah, aye, that. There is a room or two off to the side of it. I have explored them a few times. They are places to store the harvests and tithes paid, things that ought to be kept cooler—like apples or wine. All keeps have them, do they not? Never mind. I was creeping through the tunnel one day, about a fortnight past, and heard my uncle talking.”

  “To whom? One of the Black Douglases’ men?”

  “Aye. In truth, I think he must be someone important within that clan. ’Twasna the usual messenger, and he spoke to my uncle as an equal; nay, as one above him. He also spoke of—well, reminded Uncle of something from the past, a secret my uncle doesna want told. Then he asked if the goods my uncle was sending to the Black Douglases would remain unspoiled, for they wouldna be stored as well as they had been. He wished assurance that they would last until the start of May.”

  “Are ye certain of this? Would ye swear to it?”

  “Certain. There was a secretive air to their manner. I feared I was hearing words they wouldna wish me to hear. I didna linger but slipped away as swiftly and as silently as I was able.”

  “That was wise. They would have killed you if they had thought ye had discovered anything.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Two months. It concurs with the bit I learned.”

  “Which is?”

  “That an army of thousands is being readied to march against the king.”

  “ ’Tis so difficult to believe. Why? Why would my uncle risk his life and blacken the name of the family?”

  “If ye think on it, I believe ye will soon understand.”

  “I dinna have to think on it too long. The man thinks to gain some grand title and rich lands. Yet, what hold do the Douglases have on him? This all seems too great a gamble. My uncle prefers less danger.” She paled as she heard her uncle and the Douglas
man speaking again in her mind, suddenly recalled words she had ignored before. “This isna the first time my uncle has dealt in treason.”

  “Nay?”

  “Nay. The hold the Black Douglases have on him is proof that he has the blood of James the First on his hands.”

  Revan felt vaguely stunned. Here was all he had been looking for. He had spent a great deal of time in spying, courting Brenda, and engaging in general subterfuge, yet, in a few minutes Tess had told him as much as he had discovered in months. What was somewhat irritating was that she had not even been trying to find out anything while he had worked so hard to discover so little.

  Suddenly he stopped pacing to stare at her. Thurkettle had to know that she could have seen something, would innocently have espied some of his treasonous activities. The man had wit enough to realize she could be a wellspring of incriminating information, that all she needed was to be carefully questioned. It gave Thurkettle all the more reason to want her dead.

  She was in as much danger as he was. He had thought so before, but now knew for certain. It meant he was hindered with her until Thurkettle was no longer a threat. Just as there were few he could trust not to betray him, there were few he could trust to keep her safe. Since he had dragged her into the middle of it all, it was his responsibility to keep her from suffering the consequences. At the moment it looked a herculean task. He was not even sure he was going to be able to save himself.

  “Ye dinna think that will help you?” she finally asked, disturbed by the way he scowled at her.

  “Oh, aye, ’twill help me—if I can get the information to the king or his men. The information ye have, however, isna going to help you at all.”

  “Nay. I ken that. ’Tis but another reason for him to try and kill me. Aye, and the Black Douglases will wish me silenced as well.”

  “I wondered if ye would understand that.”

  “It wasna hard. The very moment I realized I had discovered something that could hurt my uncle, I realized that he would ken it, too. Or he willna wish to chance that I saw something. What difference does it make? Dead is dead no matter what the reason. He may have two motives to kill me now, but he can only kill me once.”

  Tess wished she was as calm as she sounded. She walked back to the fire and sat down, staring into the flames. There had been a lot of danger in her short life from sickness to clan feuds and battles. They were dangers everyone faced, however, mostly impersonal dangers. This threat was aimed at her personally. It would not come and go in a winking but linger, pursuing her until her uncle was stopped. It terrified her, but she fought to subdue that. What she faced would require strength.

  Returning home became her goal. She wanted the comfort and safety of her father’s ever-increasing family. The Delgados and the Comyns would form a tight protective circle around her that her uncle would never dare to confront.

  Glancing up, she saw Revan moving toward her again. He crouched by the fire and met her gaze briefly before she returned to watching the flames. She was going to have to accustom herself to the fact that she was dependent upon him, upon his goodwill, protection, and skill. Since she did not really know the man, she could not be sure he was capable of any of that.

  “Now, Tess,” Revan began, then paused to sit down by her side. “There are two ways this could turn. Your uncle could end our threat to him, or we could end his to us and the king.”

  “Are ye afraid I am going to get into the midst of all that, try to stop it? Even try to help my uncle in some way?”

  “A wee bit—aye.”

  “Well, dinna fret. I regret that part of my family will be harmed—nay, will die—and that the name of Thurkettle will be tainted with the stain of treason. But ye dinna have to worry that I am going to let myself get killed just to save his hide, especially when it would be him doing the killing. Neither will I believe him if he tries to tell me I would be safe if I did what he wanted. Even before this tragedy came about, I kenned my uncle for a liar, not to trust his word for a minute.” She frowned as she remembered there was more than her uncle involved. “What about the queenly Brenda, the love of your life?”

  He opened his mouth to deny that last remark, then decided it would be better to ignore it. “If Brenda is involved—”

  “Oh, aye, she is. Sweet Brenda is involved right up to her big blue eyes. She could never resist being in the middle of a plot.”

  “Then she will meet her downfall alongside her father and the Black Douglases.”

  “Brenda willna suffer any downfall, and well ye ken it. She will use the same wiles on her judges as she used on you. Aye, and they will act just as lackwitted.” She shook her head, not really wanting Brenda to suffer badly but not wanting her to escape punishment for such a heinous crime. “That is, if ye catch her. She is no doubt busily arranging an escape with as much money as she can grab. I sometimes think she is far more clever than her father.”

  “May we forget her? That matter can be tended to later. She isna riding about trying to pierce us full of arrows.”

  “Well, what do ye plan to do about the ones who are? Are we to but sit here?”

  “For a while.”

  “Why? This may be a good defensive position, but it can also turn into a trap.”

  “I ken it. I have to stay in this area until Thursday.”

  “That is six days away! Ye think we can hide here for that long without being discovered?”

  “ ’Tis what I am hoping. I have to meet someone a few miles from here. ’Tis all arranged.”

  “Wasna anything arranged in case there was trouble, trouble like we are having now?”

  “Aye, he will go searching for me. But I canna allow that to happen. Your uncle would murder him. I mean to stay here for as long as I can. Also, he can take the information I have gathered back to the king. That can only help us. None of those who hunt us ken this man. He may succeed. Aye, and he could send us some help, too.”

  “I can get us help.” She doubted he would really believe her, as it was too soon for them to trust each other much, but it was the first chance she had had to mention her relatives, to propose going to them for aid.

  He studied her closely. There was a look of hope in her expression. There was also a touch of what, on many another, he would have termed cunning. On this open-faced, easily read woman he was not sure what to call it. She was going to try to convince him of something, and he girded himself to ignore the plea in those big, dark eyes.

  “How can ye do that? Ye ken someone who might be useful to us?”

  “My father’s family—the Delgados and the Comyns.” She could tell that he was going to refuse that source, and she frantically tried to think of what she could say to convince him otherwise.

  “Your uncle will undoubtedly suspect that ye would go to them, Tess.”

  “I am sure he will, but he will be very careful about drawing too near to any of them, especially if he thinks I have reached them and told them what he is plotting.”

  “I am certain they are able to fight and protect you, but this is a matter for the king’s men.”

  “Even more reason to go to them. Half of them deal in the law. Many of the others are soldiers, skilled men-at-arms. I thought I made mention of that once before. Well, it doesna matter. They truly could aid us. There is certainly enough of them to provide plenty of protection.”

  “My allies can protect us.”

  “And where are they?”

  “With or near the king—Stirling.”

  “Mine are nearer—Edinburgh. This side of the city. They have a fine strong keep there.”

  “Aye, that is nearer to us, but we have to elude your uncle’s men all the way. And soon, mayhaps, the Black Douglases as well. As I said, he is certain to ken ye will try to reach them and do his best to stop you.”

  “Since we have to travel through the enemies’ lands to reach the king, we will have to elude them anyhow.” When he just frowned, she sighed. “Ye dinna trust me, do ye?”
<
br />   “Do ye trust me?” he asked instead of answering. Strangely he did trust her, but he did not want her to know how close he was to accepting everything she said as gospel.

  “Nay, not all that much.”

  “I will consider what ye suggested. Will that satisfy?”

  “Aye.”

  He stood up and headed toward the cave opening. “I am going to find some wood. Ye stay here.”

  “The fool speaks as if I have some choice,” she muttered after he left.

  At least he had said he would think about it. It was better than the flat no she had anticipated. She had six days to convince the man, six days to change “considering” to conviction.

  CHAPTER 4

  “I need a bath.”

  Revan swore softly and turned from cleaning his sword to glare at her. She had woken up with that demand upon her lips and had kept at him ever since. He was in no mood to put up with her stubborn persistence, not after four nights of increasingly disturbed sleep. Somewhere under those ill-fitting clothes she wore was a softness, a softness that kept ending up pressed close to him in the night, a softness that was feeding a growing frustration within him. He was having enough trouble coping with the allure of her thick raven hair and big brown eyes. Feeling those soft curves pressed against his back in the night was almost more than he could deal with.

  “It can wait until we are someplace safer,” he snapped.

  She glared right back at him, her hands on her hips. “It canna wait. I was intending to indulge in a hot bath when you strode into my life and ruined it. I have had quite enough of being filthy, of spending day after day in these dirty clothes. Now, I ken there is a source of water about somewhere near, as ye keep bringing buckets in. Where is it?”

  “Curse your eyes.” He slammed his sword down and rose to his feet in one angry movement. “Ye can have your cursed bath, although ’tis a very poor time to be so particular.”

  “I am nay being particular. I stink.”

  “Nay, ye dinna. I havena noticed any smell.” He rather wished he had, for it might help to stem his errant desires.