"Stand down," John ordered.
"My lord, may my husband accompany us on our walk?" Gillian asked softly. "I have not seen him in a long while, and I would be happy for his company."
"You would?" John asked, grinning once again. "He doesn't look too happy to see you, Gillian. None of them do," he added.
"In fact your laird wears the expression of a husband who would like to beat his wife."
"Oh, no, he would never do such a thing," she assured him. "No matter how angry he becomes, he would not even think about hurting me. They are honorable men, all of them."
John stopped directly in front of Brodick, tilted his head back so he could look into the giant's eyes, and said, "You wife wishes you to accompany us on our stroll."
Brodick didn't say a word, but he moved back so that John and Gillian could walk past. Her hand brushed his, a deliberate touch she couldn't resist.
She knew he was right behind her now, and she was tormented with conflicting emotions. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him how sorry she was because she had put him in such danger, yet at the same time she wanted to shout at him because he had lied to her and placed revenge above his own safety.
Desperate to protect him, she prayed for God's help. The king let go of her arm, and they walked side by side across the barren courtyard. She saw Horace select three men, and her uneasiness intensified. She wished that John hadn't granted Alford's request.
Alford's soldiers fell into stride behind the king. Brodick stayed behind her, his back vulnerable to attack, and her panic became nearly uncontrollable.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw another group of Alford's men rushing up the steps into the castle. John drew her attention then when he asked, "Where are you leading me?"
"We're going to the old stable, my lord. It's directly behind the new building Alford built after he seized control of Dunhanshire."
"Why didn't his men simply tear down the old when they put up the new?"
"Superstition," she answered.
"Explain what you mean, and while you're at it, tell me how you determined where the treasure was hidden."
Gillian began with the night her father was killed and finished her story just as they reached the dilapidated barn.
At the king's command, one of the soldiers ran to fetch a torch. John questioned Gillian while they waited. "You still haven't explained what you meant about superstition," he reminded her.
"After Ector became crazed, the soldiers feared him, and my lady's maid told me that every time he would walk past, the soldiers would drop to their knees and make the sign of the cross to ward off his evil. She saw them do it countless times," she added. "The soldiers feared that Ector had the power to snatch their minds and make them as crazed as he was. Liese also told me the men believed that Ector was possessed by the Devil, himself, and for that reason they didn't dare touch him or touch anything that belonged to him. Ector roamed the land during the day and slept in the corner of the stable at night."
"You paint my soldiers as superstitious fools, but if you're correct in your guess, their fear kept my Arianna's treasure safe for me all these many years."
The soldier returned with the burning torch, and John motioned for him to go inside first. Gillian was suddenly so filled with trepidation she couldn't get her legs to move. Dear God, please, please let the box be there.
She felt Brodick's hand on her shoulder, and she swayed back against him. She stayed there for no more than a second or two, but that was all the comfort she needed, and then she straightened and followed the king inside.
She could see specks of dust spinning in the bolts of fading gray sunlight filtering in through the holes in the rafters. The light wouldn't have been sufficient without the aid of the torch. The air was as stale as death and smelled of mold and mildew, which grew stronger with each step she took.
The king stopped when he reached the center of the corridor and motioned for her to take the lead.
"It's in the corner," she said as she hurried past him. She kept her attention on the floor now. It was cluttered with decaying flats of wood and nails.
When she passed the last stall, she slowly turned to look in the corner, and then she cried out. There it was, Ector's knapsack, still hanging from the hook on the wall.
"Shall we see if the treasure is inside?" John whispered.
He moved forward with Gillian at his side and lifted the filthy knapsack from the hook, and shoving the rubble out of his way with the side of his foot, he knelt down on the floor.
The soldier, Horace, called out to him, "Is the treasure there, my lord?"
The king didn't answer. "Do you see how my hands are trembling?" he whispered to Gillian as he gently turned the knapsack over and let the contents pour out onto the floor. An old rusty, iron hinge spilled out first, and then stones of various shapes rolled out. A clump of dirt splattered, and a cracked wooden cup splintered in half when it struck the ground. The king shouted. A dirty piece of wool wrapped into a ball dropped onto his knees. As he unfolded the cloth, a man's tunic took shape, and when the last fold was turned over, the jewels atop the magnificent box glinted up at them.
Tears flooded John's eyes, and he was filled with memories of his sweet Arianna. Lost for the moment in the past, his head bowed, he mourned anew the death of his true love.
"My lord, is the treasure there?" Horace shouted again.
The king was too overwhelmed with emotion to notice the soldier's impertinence and insolent tone.
Brodick had noticed and was in the process of turning around so that his back was to his wife and the king when Horace gave the other soldiers a signal with his hand. His three cohorts quickly fanned out to form a half circle in front of Brodick. The only thing between them and the king of England was the Highlander, and fools that they were, they actually believed the odds were in their favor.
Brodick knew exactly what their plan was. His voice was low and filled with loathing when he said, "Your king is unarmed."
John, still down on his knees, looked up as the soldiers drew their swords. His eyes widened in disbelief, and for an instant he thought that the Highlander was in some way threatening him. Then he saw that Brodick's hands were still at his sides and his sword still sheathed. Where, then, lurked the threat that would make the soldiers draw their weapons?
Forgetting for the moment the treasure, John stood. "Where is the danger?" he demanded.
The soldiers remained silent.
"Gillian, tell your king his soldiers mean to kill him," Brodick said.
The leader of the soldiers smiled. "And we will be honored for our deed. Aye, we mean to kill you, John, and the Highlander and his wife as well." Nodding to Brodick, he added, "You'll be blamed of course."
John reached for his sword and only then realized he was defenseless.
"One shout from me and my men will come running."
Horace snickered. "You'll be dead before they get here."
Brodick shook his head. "I cannot allow you to kill your king because it would upset my wife, and you sure as hell aren't going to get near her. Have I made my intentions clear?"
They came at him all at once, and that error in judgment gave Brodick an added advantage. In their haste to get him, they stumbled into one another.
Moving with the speed of a predator, he became a blur to the men trying to kill him. They saw only the silver gleam of his sword and heard the whistling sound as the warrior swung it downward. His blade cut through two soldiers as he lashed out with his foot and broke the arm of another soldier, knocking him to the ground. He then arched back to avoid the last soldier's blade and, twisting, slammed his elbow into the man's face, shattering his jaw.
Gillian had grabbed hold of the king's arm and tried to pull him back out of harm's way, but John in a burst of true gallantry wouldn't retreat. He pushed her behind him and shielded her.
Before she could summon a good scream, two soldiers lay dead at Brodick's feet and the two others were doubled over in pain. Brodick wasn't even winded. He casually wiped his blade on one of the dead to rid it of English blood, then slipped the weapon back into the sheath and turned around. He couldn't hide his surprise at finding the king protecting his wife.
John was stunned. He stared at the traitors, then looked at Brodick. "Four against one," he hoarsely whispered. "Most impressive, Laird."
Brodick shrugged. "You've yet to see impressive."
A fire from a dropped torch crackled in the debris behind them as the king once again got down on his knees and gently lifted the treasure with both hands. Cautiously he pressed in sequence the hidden springs, and the box snapped open. For a long silent moment he simply stared down at what was inside.
And then a low guttural sound erupted from deep within his throat, a sound that grew into a tortured, monstrous roar that reverberated through the decay of years.
And the cry of anguish for what was lost became a howling fury.
The sound paralyzed Gillian, and it all became too much for her to bear, the heartache, the treachery, the deceit, the fear. She couldn't block the screams or the memories. And in her mind she was suddenly standing there at the top of those slippery steps in the dark passageway. The dragon was uncoiling from the wall with his long tail slashing out at her as she and Christen were hurled down into the black abyss. She was once again that terrified little girl, abandoned and all alone. She heard the anguished screams echoing around her and saw again her father looking up at her with such sorrow and regret in his eyes. He couldn't save her. She reached out…
And suddenly Brodick was there, standing in front of her, calling out to her.
"Gillian, look at me."
The tenderness in his voice and the touch of his hand against the side of her face cut through her terror, and with a sob, she fell into his arms.
"I want to go home," Gillian cried.
"Soon," he promised. "Now get behind me and stay there."
The harsh command jarred her, and she quickly did as he ordered, for she could hear the shouting soldiers running toward the stable. The smoke from the smoldering fire must have alerted them. The blaze behind her began to leap higher, and she knew that when the king's men raced inside and saw the dead soldiers, they would attack Brodick.
Turning to the king, she saw him wipe tears from his face and then snap the box closed. He wrapped the treasure in the tunic, stuffed it into the knapsack, and then staggered to his feet.
He, too, must have heard his soldiers coming because he moved to stand by Brodick. He raised his hand as his men closed in.
"Are these your men or his?" Brodick asked.
"Mine," the king answered.
His voice was deathly calm. "Come with me," he ordered Brodick, and then he left the stable.
Brodick dragged Gillian behind him, but when they reached the courtyard, he stopped and let out a shrill whistle. Dylan and Robert rode forward.
"Get her out of here," he ordered Dylan. "Robert, wait for Bridgid and take her with you."
She wasn't given time to argue. Dylan reached down, swept her up, and urged his stallion into a gallop.
"Let the Highlanders inside," John shouted to his soldiers, and then he motioned for Iain and Ramsey to follow Brodick and him inside.
Alford hadn't been idle while he had waited. He'd used the time to gather more of his soldiers, for there were at least a dozen standing together near the buttery. Brodick and Iain stood behind the king, but Ramsey spotted Bridgid sitting in the corner and immediately went to her. He grabbed her hand, jerked her to her feet, and without saying a word, pulled her along.
She was afraid to speak to him. She'd never seen Ramsey in such a fury before, and it scared her almost as much as the English barons did. He didn't say a word to Robert either, just motioned for him to take Bridgid away, and then he turned and, head down, went back inside.
The king was speaking in a low voice to Iain Maitland when Ramsey joined them. He didn't hear what John said until the king asked if it was Iain's son who was captured. Iain responded with a curt nod, and then the king put his hand out and requested the laird's sword.
"May I borrow it?"
Iain reluctantly let him have the weapon. John turned, and carrying the sword in one hand, he dangled the knapsack in the other as he slowly approached the table where Alford waited.
The baron started to stand, but John ordered him to stay seated. "This day has been filled with disappointments," he remarked, his voice as cold as a winter's eve.
"Then you didn't find the treasure after all?" Alford asked, and the smile was there in his eyes. When John didn't answer him, Alford assumed he'd been right. "Must the Highlanders be here, my lord?" he called out.
John noticed how agitated Hugh and Edwin were. They kept giving the lairds furtive glances, showing their obvious trepidation. The king glanced at Iain Maitland but the laird wasn't looking at him. Nay, his eyes seemed to glow with his hatred, and his gaze, like Laird Buchanan's, was locked on his prey.
"Do they frighten you, Alford?" John drawled as he tilted his head toward the Highlanders.
They did make Alford nervous, but he also was feeling quite smug because he knew they couldn't do him any harm. If one of them reached for his sword, his men and the king's guard would strike them down.
"No, they don't frighten me, but they are… uncivilized."
"Don't be inhospitable," John chided.
Gripping the knapsack in one hand and Iain's sword in the other, John began to slowly circle the table. "Today has brought back all the pain," he said then, and turning to the lairds, he offered an explanation. "I've only loved one woman, and her name was Arianna. My dearest friend, Alford, brought her to me and I fell instantly in love with her. I believe she loved me too," he added. "And I would have found a way to marry her."
He stopped pacing and dropped the knapsack on the table in front of Alford.
"Open it," he commanded.
Alford turned the knapsack upside down and watched the contents spill out on the table. The box rolled out of the tunic.
John told him what was inside. "My dagger is on the bottom. I sent it with the squire for Arianna to cut a lock of her golden hair. Do you remember, Alford?"
Before Alford could answer, John continued. "On top of my dagger is a lock of her hair. Tell me, Alford, what's on top of the hair?"
"I… I don't know," Alford stuttered.
