by Amanda Scott
“I know,” Isobel said. “I can even recall one such discussion betwixt Adela, Sorcha, and me in the ladies’ solar at Roslin, and I’m nearly certain now that you were stitching by the fire at the other end of the room. We spoke quietly, and you usually seem wholly oblivious to our conversations, but clearly, you do hear them.”
Relieved that Isobel seemed to understand, Sidony nodded. “Often, I was oblivious. But even when I wasn’t, I did not think I was doing wrong.”
“Well, Adela will probably feel as I do, but Sorcha may be angrier, because Hugo will be. I doubt he will understand at all how such a thing could happen. Also, Sorcha will not so quickly agree that we are as much to blame for this, if not more so, for having developed the discourteous habit of talking as if you were not there.”
“I’ve never minded,” Sidony said. “Even as a bairn, I just wanted to be near everyone, to know what you were doing. I do hope you are right about Adela, though, and that she can make Rob understand that I’d never betray your secrets.”
“I agree that you would not knowingly betray a confidence,” Isobel said. “But as to never speaking out of turn, you did speak of this with Sir Giffard.”
“Aye, sure, but I could see that he already knew about it. I repeated no details or anything specific that I’d overheard any particular person say.”
“That will help, I think,” Isobel said. “At least, it will with Michael, because he will always listen first and judge afterward. I cannot say about the others. Rob will be home tomorrow, though, and I warrant Giff will tell him as soon as he arrives. His reaction will help us judge how angry the others are likely to be.”
Sidony grimaced. “I’d not have told Giff anything, but I knew they’d found something in the gorge last year, and I’d seen him there with Hugo and Rob. Then he talked of danger from Fife and looking for a ship to sail west, so I was nearly certain that whatever they’d found must be part of the treasure.”
“And you said as much to him, I expect,” Isobel said dryly.
“Aye, but only after he’d pressed me and said he was in their full confidence. But when I mentioned it, he wanted to know who had told me, and he . . . he threatened to throw me over his shoulder and take me to Hugo and the others. And Hugo hasn’t even had a chance yet to vent his feelings about seeing me yesterday. Heaven knows what he’ll say or . . . or do to me, when he learns about this.”
Isobel shook her head. “After so many years weathering Sorcha’s stormy temper, you rarely seem to let anyone’s ranting daunt you—even Hugo’s. So don’t tease yourself about it now. What comes will come soon enough of its own accord.” She added with a wry smile, “I’ll try to follow that good advice myself, if you will.”
“Aye, sure,” Sidony said. “I know such storms of temper soon blow over, but I own, I won’t mind if this rain keeps them all away for just a while longer.”
Giff was soaked to the skin and not happy about it. He generally enjoyed the vagaries of weather, but in his opinion, no day that had begun so well ought to have clouded up and rained on him as heavily as it had.
He had ridden the coast to Portobello, seeking the safest, most suitable place to load the Stone onto the Dutch ship, but he was unsure yet how he and the others could achieve that. More often than not, he beached his ships, and to be sure, this one boasted a stern port and oars. But although one could back a galley with ease, only a fool would try to beach a ship as large as the Zee Handelaar stern first.
He continued to ponder the problem as he rode back to Lestalric. Could they just tie up at a public wharf and load the Stone as ordinary cargo?
What if Fife and his lads strolled up as they were loading?
Being a man who would dare anything within reason, Giff decided that he would doubtless think of something, but he knew the others would prefer a less audacious plan. They tended to put caution first, but he knew that to succeed, a man had to seize opportunity when it arose or risk losing it.
Rob would know more when he returned tomorrow for Adela’s supper. Rob was no seaman, but Michael was a fine one, and Hugo had experience, too, enough with Henry’s ships to understand the logistics of loading. Henry himself was the finest Sinclair seaman, but he was at Girnigoe and his ships were off carrying wool.
There also remained the problem of the Dutch captain and crew. Giff had told the captain he had cargo but not what it was, nor would he. But to inform the Dutch crew that he did not require their services would doubtless lead to trouble, especially as he would need them until he could exchange them for Sinclair men. And he could scarcely make that exchange in Leith Harbor with Fife watching.
Weather was also a concern, although experience told him the current storm, damp and annoying as it was, would soon blow itself out. By late afternoon, it had, and the sunset was spectacular, turning the waters of the firth the color of blood.
Later that evening, as Fife was reviewing some royal accounts, a minion entered, bowed, and said solemnly, “Beg pardon, your lordship. Rolf Stow be here to report, sir, and the Chevalier de Gredin be waiting, as well.”
“Tell them both to come in,” Fife said. De Gredin knew of his informant, and it would do no harm to keep him apprised of Stow’s reports. In fact, it would make the chevalier more confident of Fife’s trust, and the more confident he became, the more likely he was to make a mistake if he was going to make one.
The chevalier entered first and made his flourishing bow with Stow following obsequiously in his wake, cap in his hand this time.
“Have you learned aught of interest, Rolf Stow?” Fife demanded.
Tugging his forelock, Stow said, “Aye, m’lord. Countess Isabella were to come here Wednesday, but because they be a-moving the wool from abbeys in the south and she fears the roads will be too crowded, she means to come Thursday.”
“Faugh, is that all you’ve learned? Nothing more?”
“Only that she’ll take the river path whilst her carts take the high road.”
“What of the men? What are they doing?”
Rolf wrung his cap. “They go about their business, m’lord, as ever they do. Sir Hugo be taken up wi’ the countess’s demands, finding carts and wagons enough for all her lumber. She needs a train o’ them, as all ken fine.”
“She does,” Fife said. “But if they try to move something other than wool, I want to know what it is. You go straight back tonight, so you won’t be missed.”
When Rolf had gone, de Gredin took up a position by the fireplace and said, “A train of carts and wagons should cover nearly anything one wanted to move.”
“Never fear. I mean to see every one of those vehicles searched. Likewise, I want every wool cart approaching Leith Harbor searched as well. But what I want to know from you is how soon those papal ships can get here.”
“Soon, sir,” de Gredin said. “But I do have a piece of information for you.”
“What is it?”
“I set two of my lads to watch a knight called Giffard MacLennan after I learned they had seen him entering Clendenen House with one of the Macleod sisters. He apparently met with Hugo Robison and Robert Logan, and has spent his time since then looking at and even visiting ships in the harbor. Yesterday morning he spent more than an hour aboard a Dutch merchantman called Zee Handelaar.”
“Do you suspect that MacLennan is captain of a ship now in the harbor?”
“Nay, for by all accounts he did not sail here, although he is said to be a skilled man with boats. My guess is he is either looking to buy a ship or hire one.”
“You interest me,” Fife said. “Tell your lads to keep a good watch on him.”
“As to that, I must put others to the task,” de Gredin said with a grimace. “Those two are in the Tollgate, having been haled before a magistrate for some incident at the harbor. It took time to find them, which is why I tell you this only now. They’ll keep silent, though, and I did not mention your name to them.”
“At least you show some sense, but pray, do what you must
to find out what the devil this MacLennan is up to.”
When de Gredin had gone, Fife sat thinking for some time. He was as sure as he could be that the Sinclairs and Logan knew the whereabouts of the Stone and had known since the previous year. It had been Logan’s own brother, after all, who had boasted that Logan knew how to find it, and Fife had believed he could force Logan to tell him. But his plan had failed, and the only ship to leave the harbor for the north or west then was Orkney’s, with de Gredin aboard. Afterward, Fife had set a permanent watch on Leith Harbor and all ships loading to go north.
De Gredin had helped with the earlier search until Fife had threatened the lady Adela Logan, when de Gredin had basely betrayed him. Had he seen aught unloaded at Girnigoe that might lead him to the Templar treasure, Fife doubted that de Gredin would want to share that information unless he had to.
So, he needed Fife for some reason, and it began to look as if the Sinclairs and their friends had something of import now that they wanted to move in secrecy.
Sidony and Isobel rode to Lestalric Tuesday morning, arriving well before midday. The only remaining signs of Monday’s downpour were myriad puddles and a sea of tents erected along the shore of Loch End, north of Lestalric’s hill, to protect hundreds of bales of wool awaiting the short journey to ships that would carry them to the Low Countries and beyond. Riding up the steep track to the castle sprawled across the hilltop, they enjoyed a fine view of the tents.
Sidony stared, never before having seen such a sight, but Isobel said only, “That must be wool from one of the Border abbeys. Michael said it was on its way.”
She explained more, but Sidony was only half listening. She did not care as much about wool as she did about learning if Giff was at Lestalric. Surely, he would be, with Rob due to return, if only to tell him that she knew about the treasure.
Except for servants, the first person they saw was Adela, who hurried down the main entrance steps to welcome them as they rode into the forecourt.
Her smile was reassuring, but as she and Sidony hugged each other, Sidony murmured, “I’m sorry for vexing you, Adela. I hope—”
“Hush,” Adela murmured back. “I know how it is. ’Tis only that Rob lives in dread of betraying secrets. But I can assure him you won’t betray this one.”
“Perhaps,” Sidony said doubtfully. “But what of Hugo?”
“Sorcha will manage Hugo,” Adela said confidently. “In any event, Hugo and Michael won’t arrive until tomorrow, with Isabella, and Hugo knows you are no prattler. But Rob comes today, and he does not yet know you so well.”
With that, Sidony had to be satisfied. Inside, she looked for Giff only to hear Adela say he had ridden out early with-out saying when he meant to return.
Giff had left Lestalric soon after rising, determined to meet Rob on the road. It had occurred to him that with the lady Adela’s sisters arriving that morning and heaven knew how many noble guests arriving throughout the afternoon for her supper, he and Rob would find no other good opportunity for private speech.
However, Rob had made a late start from Hawthornden, where he had spent the night with Hugo and Lady Robison, and the Edinburgh road was crowded in both directions with shepherds, baaing sheep, nipping herd dogs, and carts of wool drawn by horses, oxen, or braying mules. So Giff did not meet Rob and Rob’s usual tail of a dozen armed men until a mile or so south of the river North Esk’s track.
“Has the road been this busy all the way from town?” Rob asked him.
“Aye, so I hope your ties to the abbot are such that we may ride through his woods. I want to talk to you without having to shout over this din.”
Rob grinned. “As I recall, even without any ties to the abbot, you rode through his woods just over a sennight ago.”
“Aye, sure, but sithee, I was alone, not leading a dozen armed horsemen to trample his woods into pulp. In troth, I was sure enough that you’d respect them today that I took the main road with fair certainty that I’d not miss finding you.”
Rob nodded and turned to the captain of his tail. “We’ll turn off on the abbey track at the foot of Arthur’s Seat. You and the lads can carry on through town, for I am as safe on the abbey grounds as on my own.”
The captain acknowledged the order, and they soon reached the narrow, muddy, little-used track. Noting deep puddles on the track and nearby landscape from the recent rain, Michael said, “I hope you’ve good cause for this diversion, Giffard, my lad. Our horses are like to flounder in this devilish bog.”
“I want to discuss things without risk of interruption or the odd listener,” Giff said. “Lestalric will be teeming with guests.”
“I warrant I could find us a place quiet enough to talk,” Rob said.
“Aye, sure, but not without stirring remark. And, too, I’ve something to tell you that you won’t like.” Ignoring Rob’s frown, he explained that the lady Sidony knew about the treasure, adding before Rob could make the same error that Isobel and Adela had, that she had known for some time.
“But how?”
When Giff had done his best to explain, to his surprise, Rob nodded and said with a grimace, “I ken fine how that can happen. One has only to recall how easily folks talk about private affairs in front of their servants, as if they were sticks of wood. I’ve learned things myself that road. And, as one of the family, Sidony does have a knack for fading from one’s awareness when she chooses not to draw notice.”
Giff did not think Rob had ever endured a position as a servant, but he did know that as a younger son at odds with both his father and older brother, Rob had done any number of things to support himself before inheriting Lestalric. One such thing was to act as captain of Hugo’s tail for some years. Thus, certain members of the nobility unaware of his hard-earned spurs might have treated him disdainfully.
Giff eyed the other man narrowly, trying to gauge the state of his temper.
Rob met his gaze, grimaced, and said, “I was thinking we’ll have to take care who the lass marries. Keeping secrets is devilish hard work in any situation, but it seems well nigh impossible after others in one’s family come to know about them.”
“Tales of the treasure are rife throughout Scotland,” Giff reminded him.
“Just rumors, though,” Rob said. “And the people who spread them are not involved in protecting the treasure. We are. Moreover, the item we aim to secure now is of personal importance to the Logans and Sinclairs, because its location was passed directly to Henry and to me. So, although the Order is involved, we are directly responsible for its safety.”
“The lass kens nowt of the Stone,” Giff said. “She does, however, believe I’ll be carrying a portion of the treasure with me when I sail.”
“Then we must not tell her more,” Rob said. “The Abbot of Holyrood does not let its name pass his lips. Adela and I decided we should do the same. Mayhap she remembered that much and passed the advice to Sorcha and Isobel. Sithee, the three of them all learned about it, one way or another, from their husbands.”
“Have you determined when it is to go aboard the ship?” Giff asked.
“Have you found one?”
“Aye, a fine Dutch merchantman, although one expert did call it a barge.” Describing the ship, he told him about Jake Maxwell and his father, and also that Sidony had suggested that the man who had attacked him might work for Fife.
“Then the sooner we move, the better,” Rob said. “We can have the Stone in place early Friday morning if we take advantage of this great wool commotion.”
Giff assured him that the ship would be ready and asked his advice about the Dutch crew and their captain. “We can hardly let them sail their boat to our meeting place and then just tell them to go about their business.”
“I’ll discuss it with Hugo and Michael, but we’ll have a complete plan before then,” Rob said. “I’m returning to Roslin early tomorrow.”
“So your lady wife has said. Must you really go just to return the same day?”
“Hugo’s been concerned about a possible spy at Roslin for some time,” Rob said. “So although the countess has given it out that she travels tomorrow, she will delay one day, using the crowded roads as her excuse. Fortunately, the Leith road will remain crowded all week, because the abbots’ wool is coming in, and others will have to wait, because the abbeys take loading precedence over everyone else.”
“Why does the countess not wait until all the wool is loaded?”
“Because his grace means to arrive on Saturday from Stirling and she wants at least two days to settle in before then.” With a smile, he added, “Also because, as you told Michael, a bit of chaos may prove useful.”
“I think I suggested a noisy procession. Have you moved it yet?”
“Let us discuss first where you want us to meet you,” Rob said.
“I’ve two possible sites,” Giff said, remembering Rob’s reluctance to reveal details until absolutely necessary, and accepting the change of topic.
He described the sites, and with Rob easily recognizing both, they discussed the relative merits and chose the one nearest the road along which the Stone would come. By the time they had settled the details, they were approaching the castle.
Sidony’s pleasure when Rob and Giff were in time to take the midday meal with everyone gave way to dismay when Rob announced, despite his wife’s gentle protest, that the family and Giff would dine privately, rather than in the hall as usual.
Adela did not argue but asked the steward to set up a table in the solar for them. “Some of our guests are likely to arrive early,” she added. “If they want to dine, pray seat them on the dais as we always do.”
