Treasure Me

by Robyn DeHart

  “Go to hell,” the man said.

  “You first,” The Raven said, then slid his dagger across the man’s throat, the blade sinking into the man’s flesh. Blood sprayed upward and outward. It fell onto The Raven’s face, splattering onto his cheek, a drop flickering into his eye.

  He dropped the man, who sank to the ground. Scarlet droplets scattered across the snow, pooling where the man had fallen. The Raven stepped away to avoid getting too much blood on his shoes.

  He withdrew a calling card from his coat and tossed it onto the body. Let Braden see firsthand what fate awaited him.

  Vanessa walked beside Graeme, bundled into her warmest cloak, hat, and mittens. The snow was beginning to melt, but the chill lingered, brisk and sharp in the air. “I am most eager to meet your friends,” she said. “I never thought I would say this, but I am missing London, and it will be nice to see some people from there.”

  It was not surprising that the wilds of the Highlands were beginning to wear on her. London got cold, but snow was not as common and the wind wasn’t as bone-chilling. They were on their way from the caves, where they’d spent a frustrating morning discovering nothing new. Something ahead caught Graeme’s attention. He stopped walking and held his arm out to block Vanessa.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Wait here,” he said. He cautiously moved forward. A body lay in the snow, but it wasn’t until he was right upon it that he could see the damage. Fitch lay slumped on the melting snow, his throat slashed and blood sprayed everywhere.

  “Oh God,” Vanessa whispered from his side.

  “Damnation, woman, do you ever obey?” He tried to turn her away.

  “When it suits me,” she said. She knelt and picked up the card lying on the man’s chest. She looked up at Graeme. “The Raven.”

  He took the card from her and dropped it back onto the body. “Ah, Duchess, we need to get away from here,” he said.

  “Do you suppose he’s still here somewhere?” she asked, looking around.

  “No,” Graeme said, “but this is a threat meant just as much for us as for Braden.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Raven sat on a darkened pew in the center of the small chapel. His feet rested on the kneel bar. It was a strange meeting place, but the small size of the village required that he be more careful.

  A thin shaft of light appeared on the floor as the outer door opened. Soft footsteps came from behind him. Instinctively he gripped his blade, his hand resting securely on the hilt. Then the kneel bar shifted beneath the other man’s weight as he lowered himself next to The Raven.

  “Sam,” The Raven said. “I suppose condolences are in order for your lost comrade.”

  “Fitch was an arrogant bastard,” Sam said. “It rattled Braden. More than ever, he’s looking over his shoulder.”

  “Where is he now?” The Raven asked.

  “In the caves, searching. If anything, Fitch’s death fueled his drive to find the treasure.”

  “Perfect. Between him and Niall, someone will find my stone.” The Raven wanted to light a cigar, but the vicar would not take kindly to smoking in the sanctuary.

  “Your clever plan is working,” Sam agreed.

  Sam was unlike the men who’d previously been in his employ. He wasn’t simply strong and willing to live at the edge of the law. No, Sam was clever. He’d been the perfect person to infiltrate Braden’s group.

  Two months of watching Niall had shown The Raven how weak the man was, fawning all over his wife and son. The Raven had simply reminded him what his life’s work was all about. He’d removed the distraction so that Niall could focus on locating the treasure. But The Raven had known that his odds for success were greater if there was more than one person searching for it.

  So he’d come up with the perfect solution, and Sam had already been in place. Braden had one of the royal stones in his possession, a gem that The Raven needed to complete the Kingmaker. So he’d broken into Braden’s home and taken it, deliberately leaving the man his calling card so he knew precisely who had been the thief.

  Then it had been up to Sam to plant the seed. To whisper a solution to Braden: find the Loch Ness Treasure and The Raven would consider a barter. So now Braden unknowingly worked for The Raven.

  “What is next?” Sam asked.

  “I intercepted a letter intended for Graeme,” The Raven said.

  “We saw him in the caves. He was asking questions,” Sam said.

  “Of course he was. Damned Solomon’s is forever in my way.” The Raven drummed his fingers on the pew in front of him. “But they can often also be most helpful. The letter instructed Graeme to visit Cawdor Castle, where he would find the final royal stone.”

  Sam shifted himself off of the kneel bar and onto the pew. He leaned forward, his arms resting on the pew in front of him, almost as if he were praying.

  “I’ll rewrite the letter with additional instructions for Graeme to enlist Braden’s assistance for the quest, in case they come against any villains,” The Raven said.

  “Graeme will heed such advice?” Sam asked.

  “Coming from Jensen, yes,” The Raven said. “No one questions that man.”

  Graeme tossed the letter onto the desk, then paced the small study like a caged beast.

  “How did he even know that Braden was here?” Vanessa asked. She picked up the letter and glanced down at the florid penmanship.

  “Jensen has his ways. He always seems to know what is going on,” Graeme said.

  “So this isn’t completely unusual?” Vanessa looked up, but Graeme’s pacing made her nervous.

  “No, not in the least. Just as when he appeared here that one night. He has all manners through which he acquires information.” Graeme stopped and braced his hands on the back of a chair.

  Vanessa set down the letter. “Do you trust him?”

  Graeme met her gaze. “Jensen? Absolutely.”

  “Then we should heed his advice.” She nodded with resolution.

  He pushed away from the chair. “His logic is sound. We don’t yet have other members of Solomon’s here with us, and I don’t think we have time to wait for Fielding and Esme. We might need some assistance if the residents of the castle don’t take kindly to unwanted visitors.”

  “Indeed,” Vanessa said. “Additionally, if Braden and his men were working with The Raven, then he wouldn’t have killed Fitch.”

  Graeme was silent for several moments as if considering her words, then slowly he nodded. “Then I suppose we have some new partners.”

  Convincing Braden to join their merry quest had been as simple as offering him a sum of money. Graeme opted to go with what the man knew instead of attempting to appeal to any sense of honor. It had worked, and now Graeme and Vanessa, along with Braden and Sam, walked quietly toward Cawdor Castle. The moon hung low and heavy, illuminating the landscape before them.

  Unlike the ruins of Urquhart, Cawdor was a fully functioning estate for the Earl of Cawdor. The manicured lawn led to the gray stone fortress. A drawbridge led into the main gate and overlooked a dry moat. Thickly wooded trees lined the back of the castle.

  “Where do we look first?” Braden asked.

  “Evidently the Cawdor family has protected King William’s stone for centuries,” Graeme said.

  “So it will be heavily guarded,” Braden said.

  Graeme nodded. “More than likely. We’ll try the non-sleeping quarters first to avoid rousing the residents.”

  Walking straight up through the main entry gate didn’t seem the best way to remain undetected, so they searched for an alternate entrance. They found one on the east side of the castle. Before Graeme could withdraw his tools to unlatch the lock, Sam had shouldered the door and broken the bolt. Effective, but not with as much finesse as Graeme preferred.

  Graeme exhaled slowly. He still didn’t trust Braden or his associate Sam. He could adhere to Jensen’s advice without completely agreeing with it. Besides, Jensen would have wanted Gr
aeme to be cautious.

  They stood quietly in the dark for several moments waiting to see if they’d drawn any attention, but no one came.

  “We’ll take this side; you and your woman go search the other wing,” Braden said.

  Graeme was not accustomed to working with other people, especially ones who wanted to dictate his moves. But now was not the time to argue about it, and searching separately they would cover more ground faster. He took Vanessa’s hand and pulled her toward the hall.

  Soon they’d come to the main entrance of the castle, a grand foyer with a staircase at the end and a balcony overlooking the first floor. No doubt the earl had hosted more than one ball in this very area. They moved out of the wide open space and into the opposite wing.

  Every room Graeme and Vanessa came to, they’d search, opening cabinets and drawers, peeking in vases, and moving books and pictures.

  “Do you know they refer to this as MacBeth’s castle?” Vanessa whispered. They walked through a small dining room and into a parlor.

  “Indeed?” Graeme said.

  “True. In the play, the three witches tell MacBeth that he will become Thane of Cawdor, and it is the first of their prophecies to come true. It is what sends him on his quest to overtake King Duncan and steal the throne.” She gasped, then stopped walking.

  “What?” Graeme glanced around to try and see what had grabbed her attention.

  “Do you think that’s what Shakespeare was talking about? The Kingmaker? MacBeth was after the Kingmaker,” Vanessa said.

  Graeme shook his head. “Vanessa, it’s a play.” He pulled her forward, and they entered a library. So far they’d found nothing indicating where the stone might be hidden. Graeme feared they’d have to search the bedchambers, as that was where most people hid their valuables.

  “I am quite serious,” she said. “If King William used it to become king, why could the Bard not have used it in a play? A play about Scottish kings, no less.”

  Graeme chuckled. “It’s an interesting theory, but it doesn’t have any bearing on our current search.”

  But Vanessa wasn’t listening; she’d marched off to a room at the front of the castle. “Don’t be so certain of that, my husband.” She pointed to a sign, then smiled broadly.

  “MacBeth’s Museum,” Graeme read. “So the Cawdor family is capitalizing on the literary fame of their estate.”

  Vanessa tugged on his sleeve to pull him into the room. “We must search everywhere.”

  They stepped into the large room. Posters of various performances hung on the walls, and glass cases held props used in the play: robes, swords, and a handful of scripts.

  “Fascinating,” Vanessa said.

  Graeme walked the length of the room until he stood before a large glass case. Inside was a purple and red robe, clearly designed for royalty, and above it sat a jewel-adorned crown. Emeralds, rubies, and sapphires covered nearly every inch of the gold crown, and in the very center sat a huge ruby.

  “Vanessa,” Graeme said.

  She came to his side and looked up at the crown.

  “Hiding something in plain sight can oftentimes be most effective,” he said.

  She pointed to the plaque next to the case. “MacBeth’s crown.”

  • • •

  The Raven stood in the doorway watching Sam and Braden search the study. His own presence went unnoticed by the men, who were focused on their task. That was the problem with most people; they simply weren’t observant enough.

  Braden paid no attention to the mess he left, overturning drawers and tossing books on the floor. The Raven shook his head. Before Solomon’s had interfered with his career, The Raven had been the best antiquities man in the business. For a hefty price, he had tracked down and retrieved more artifacts than most so-called scientists could ever dream of finding. But since Solomon’s had forced him into hiding, his former clients had had to rely on this bumbling idiot to find their treasures.

  He’d never seen the man work, had only heard from others about his discoveries. And Braden had, of course, found King Solomon’s stone, the royal sapphire, which The Raven now possessed. But perhaps all of that had been sheer good luck. Watching the man now, The Raven was unsure he could find his own arse.

  Enough of this. He withdrew his dagger and gripped the hilt firmly. Then he quietly stepped into the room. He was halfway across the study when Braden looked up.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the devil himself,” Braden said. He dropped a book on the floor, then stepped on it coming toward The Raven. “Can’t ever find anything for yourself, can you? Always have to swoop in and steal from other people.” Braden cocked his head to one side. “Is that why they call you The Raven? Because you’re nothing more than a filthy scavenger?”

  Sam raised one eyebrow.

  The Raven nodded in response.

  Braden smiled until Sam grabbed him from behind, imprisoning his arms. “What the hell?” He looked from side to side. “Sam? What are you doing?” And then the obvious must have dawned on him. He swore.

  “You’re a sorry excuse for a treasure hunter, Braden.” With that, The Raven plunged his dagger into the man’s left side and rammed it upward into his heart.

  Braden’s eyes widened. He coughed. Blood sprayed all over The Raven and the carpet. Braden choked on his last breath. Sam dropped him, and he slumped to the floor.

  The Raven withdrew a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped his face and hands, then dropped it on the body. He sheathed his dagger. “Now I suppose it is up to Niall alone to find the Loch Ness Treasure.” He eyed Sam, whose stoic expression gave nothing away. “Shall we see if Graeme has found anything?”

  “It’s brilliant,” Vanessa said. “No one would suspect that to be one of the royal stones. The entire crown looks like a prop.”

  “Exactly,” Graeme said.

  “How do we get it out, though? Breaking the glass will cause too much noise and alert the family,” Vanessa said.

  Before Graeme could think of a solution, Sam ran into the room.

  “You found it?” Sam asked.

  “Yes,” Vanessa began. “But—”

  Sam interrupted Vanessa’s sentence by slamming his elbow into the glass. It cracked, then shattered, pouring glass all over the stone floor.

  “Where’s Braden?” Graeme asked.

  “He got caught,” Sam said. “We need to get out of here.” He glanced behind him. “Now!” He turned and ran out of the room, holding the crown.

  Graeme and Vanessa followed after him. “Something isn’t right,” Graeme said.

  They ran after Sam into the main foyer, and then out the front door. They followed him into the courtyard that led to the drawbridge.

  “Sam! Wait!” Graeme called. But his words fell on deaf ears.

  Then Sam stopped, turned, and pulled the lever that would close the large iron gate. The metal creaked downward. Graeme cursed. They weren’t going to make it in time.

  “What is he doing?” Vanessa asked through labored breaths.

  “I believe we’ve fallen into a trap,” Graeme said. “Hurry.” And she did; he couldn’t fault her for not trying. She wasn’t slowing him down that much, but they’d never reach the gate in time.

  Sam stood there watching them, holding the crown in one hand and the pulling the lever with the other.

  “You’re a bastard,” Graeme said as they reached the gate. It slammed closed, locking into the stone floor, trapping them inside the courtyard.

  Sam simply smiled.

  And then it all made sense. The Raven stepped out onto the path at the edge of the drawbridge and walked slowly toward them.

  “Graeme, is this your lovely wife?” The Raven asked, a deadly smile on his lips.

  “Go to hell,” Graeme said.

  “No introduction? Pity.” The Raven directed his attention to Sam. “It’s time.”

  Sam turned to follow, but he couldn’t move. He yanked on his leg, but it wouldn’t budge. He was caugh
t. “I can’t move,” Sam said.

  The Raven stopped. “What do you mean, you can’t move?”

  Sam jerked his leg again, but he was firmly trapped. “My leg is trapped. My boot is caught on something in the drawbridge mechanism.” He continued pulling on his leg, his movements becoming increasingly frantic. “It’s stuck.”

  “Give me the crown,” The Raven said.

  “Don’t do it, Sam,” Graeme warned. “He’s only using you. When it serves him, you’ll be dead.” Graeme paused before adding, “Is that what happened to Braden? Did The Raven tire of his service and kill him?”

  “That idiot never worked for me,” The Raven spat.

  “Open the gate and we can help you,” Graeme said to Sam.

  The Raven didn’t wait for further negotiation. He simply walked over to Sam and elbowed him in the nose. Blood exploded from the man’s face, and he howled in pain. The Raven ripped the crown out of the man’s hand, then ran off the drawbridge.

  As soon as he stepped off, the bridge started to move. The chains creaked and gears shifted. Sam yelled and grabbed at his leg.

  “Graeme, what’s happening?” Vanessa asked. “Can you stop it, stop the bridge?”

  Graeme searched all around the gate and the stone wall surrounding it, but found nothing that would enable him to stop the bridge. “It must be inside the castle. Someone inside there has closed the bridge.”

  The closer the bridge came to Sam, the more he yelled.

  This was not going to end well, and Graeme couldn’t stand here and allow Vanessa to watch it happen. He pulled her to him, then ran back toward the castle. They skirted the outer edge of the building until they reached the forested area at the back.

  As they rounded the corner, the drawbridge slammed into place, and Sam let out his final cry.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Vanessa and Graeme returned to the village sometime after mid-morning. They hadn’t made it back in time to meet Esme and Fielding at the train station, but had received a note saying the couple had arrived safely. Additionally, the train ride had afforded Esme the time to make the acquaintance of the American man who had refurbished the abbey hidden up in the hills. He’d insisted that they stay with him, and they had readily agreed.