He stepped up to the cell and set the torch in the holder on the wall. “Ilsabeth?” he called softly as he unlocked the door.
Simon was just stepping into the cell when she flung herself into his arms. He felt her shaking and feared she had become ill already. He touched her forehead and cheeks but found no heat of a fever. He did find them wet with tears, however.
“Ilsabeth, love, what is wrong?”
“Walter came to see me and he brought a guest.”
“Who?” “Henry.”
“Nay, Henry has been banished from the court. That happened years ago and it was a banishment that made it verra clear he was not to come to court as long as this king ruled.” He thought about that for a moment and then cursed. “Damn. Ye dinnae think this is all about Henry’s stung vanity, do ye?”
“I dinnae ken but, Simon, if Henry is banished how did he get into the dungeons? How did Walter get him in? They had no guard with them.” She frowned. “Neither do ye.”
“I was given a gift because Gowan thinks ye have been wronged and the guard who brought me here thinks your potion saved his son.”
“Oh, I am so glad wee Alek is getting better.” She grabbed Simon by the hand and led him over to her tiny bed. “But listen, Simon, it was more than the fact that Henry should ne’er have been in here. He and Walter came in the wrong way. I havenae seen that many people come down here but even the guards come in the same way ye did. Walter and Henry came in from the opposite direction and left that way, too.”
Simon stared at her in shock. That shock caused her words to circle in his mind for a moment, unable to settle. This was a major breach in their defense of the king. Henry could have walked in any time he chose and slithered close to the king with little more opposition than the king’s personal guard. How had all of them missed such a thing? Even more important, who inside the keep had helped the enemy find it?
“God’s blood, this is what Morainn meant.”
“Morainn had a vision?”
“Aye, and she told me to get down here to see ye as ye had some important information. It was about this creeping into the dungeon. Those men ken a way to get in and out without being seen. Weel, I doubt they will come back today for they must have accomplished what they set out to do, but a guard will need to be set. I will look into that when I leave.”
Ilsabeth wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. He smelled so clean she was suddenly, embarrassingly, aware of the fact that she did not. She started to pull away but he held her close and rubbed his cheek against her hair.
“Simon, I am verra dirty,” she protested, “and who kens what has crawled into my hair.”
“Ilsabeth, ye have only been here two days. Ye dinnae smell dirty at all.”
He kissed her on the neck and nipped gently at the tender skin there. Ilsabeth was so glad to have him with her but she knew she could not enjoy his company until she told him about Henry’s threats. She needed Simon’s assurances that the children were safe.
She leaned back in his arms until she could see his face. “Simon, just heed me for a moment. ‘Tis about your brother. He... he threatened the children.” She watched his eyes narrow and saw a glint of that anger Henry always brought into Simon’s eyes. “He told me that he kenned I had weaknesses and he kenned what they are. He said I should think on that ere I refused him.”
“Refused him what?”
“Ne’er mind that. He threatened the children. I wouldnae be surprised if he was threatening Old Bega and MacBean, too. He said I should think hard on those weaknesses and how he will use them to make me do what he wants e’en if it meant he got a wee bit of blood on his hands. But, the worse was that he said, ‘the sweetest blood is said to be that of the tender wee lasses. It runs smoothly and brightly o’er the hands.’ He meant Elen, Simon. He meant our wee sweet Elen. Ye have to get the children somewhere safe.”
He pulled her back into his arms and rubbed his hand up and down her back. “ ‘Tis done, love. They have been sent to Tormand and Morainn this verra night. Morainn saw the need for that, too. She didnae name a threat but when she says something about having to get the children to her now, ye do it.”
“Oh, thank God. I was so afraid. There was no one to tell, no one to come and take a message to ye.”
“In truth, Ilsabeth, ye sent me and Morainn a message.” He grinned when she looked at him in shock. “Aye, I was yanked out of a sound sleep and was trying to understand what had done that, but all I kenned for sure was that I had to get to ye and naught would get in my way. Peter came then and told me that one of our men was butchered in a way that is my brother’s favorite so I was distracted from that urgency for a while. A short while later Tormand arrived and said Morainn wanted me to get to ye now. He began to repeat what message Morainn had heard and I finished it, suddenly able to recall the words that had slapped me awake. I think ye yelled it out so loud it did get sent and ye didnae e’en have to write it down.”
“I might have a gift?”
She looked so delighted at the thought that he had to smile. Holding her close as he was, however, his thoughts swiftly wandered to how long it had been since he had last held her. The guard was being kind, but Simon was certain that the man would grow uneasy if he stayed with Ilsabeth for too long. He wanted, needed, to steal some of that time to love her, hold her, and savor the passion they shared. Try as he did to ignore it, a little voice in hismind kept warning him that what he shared with her might not last much longer.
“Shouldnae ye be trying to see where it was that Walter and Henry got in unseen?” Ilsabeth asked as Simon pushed her down onto the rough pallet.
“There is time to do that,” he replied as he started to slide his hand up beneath her skirts. “Right after I feed a hunger that has gone unfed for far too long.”
“Only two days,” she murmured, although she shared his hunger. “Far too long.”
“Ye mean to make love in a dungeon?”
“Aye.”
“The guard...”
“Handed me a torch and the key and told me to fetch him when our visit was over. Now, hush,” he whispered against her mouth, and then kissed her.
Ilsabeth hushed. She was hungry, too. She had missed Simon, missed the way his big, warm body curled around her as they slept. Most of all she had missed the way he made her feel safe. She was desperate to feel safe, even if only for the time she was in his arms. Safe and warm, she thought, even as she lost herself in his kiss.
It took only a kiss to cause their passion for each other to run wild. Simon was starved for her, but part of what had him so desperate to bury himself deep inside her was his fear for her, a fear that had been eating at him from the moment he had been told that Walter had taken her. Suddenly, his house was empty, his bed was empty, and, he realized, a large part of him was also empty without her. When he finally thrust inside her, he stilled, savoring the heat of her and a deep sense of belonging. “Simon?”
“It feels so good,” he whispered. “Aye, it does.”
Ilsabeth did not know how long she could wait for Simon to give her what her body was crying out for, however. It moved her that he found the way their bodies joined together so perfectly, the way that joining brought them close in so many ways, something to savor. Any other time she would savor it, too, be pleased with sharing a time that was both sensual and peaceful. This time she needed more; she needed fire and rough passion.
“I think today it might feel a wee bit better if ye moved,” she finally said.
Simon looked down at her and grinned as he slowly pulled back until he was nearly free of her body and then ever so slowly pushed back in as deep as he could go. “Like that?”
Ilsabeth looked at that grin and narrowed her eyes. Then she smiled and dragged her fingernails down his back, no longer afraid that she would hurt him. The first time she had done it in a moment of heightened passion he had shuddered as he did now and she had quickly apologized. Simon had explained to
her that he needed the rougher touch, that the damage done by the whip Henry had so viciously wielded had made it difficult for him to feel a soft caress.
Now she took full advantage of the fact that he found her scratching his back intoxicating, relishing the fact that he felt anything at all. She did it once more and finally received the hard loving she needed. They raced toward that bliss she craved as one, and when he joined her in that release from a blinding need, their voices blending as they cried out from the force of it, she prayed she would soon be free to enjoy this as she had before Walter had dragged her away to this dark place.
Appreciating how long he held her close after their lovemaking, Ilsabeth made no complaint when he finally straightened their clothes and tugged her to her feet. “Time to go, aye?” she asked as he brushed a kiss over her mouth.
“Aye,” he replied. “Soon, Ilsabeth. I will have ye free of this place soon.”
He kissed her again and started toward the door, hesitating and sending her a tortured look when he realized he would have to lock her in. Ilsabeth walked over, pushed him out of her prison, and closed the door. He had to stop the men planning to kill the king and, in truth, with Henry still running free, she knew she was safer right where she was.
“Lock it, Simon,” she said. “I ken ye will solve this trouble soon and that my stay here will be a short one.” She leaned against the door as he locked it and then smiled at him. “And, I was just thinking that Henry cannae reach me here.” The expression that crossed his face and the way his eyes narrowed told her that that might not have been the wisest thing she had ever said.
Simon locked the door and looked at her. “What else did Henry threaten ye with?” When she just shrugged and tried to step back, he caught hold of her hand and pulled her closer, only the bars separating them. “Ye cannae slip back and hide away, nay with these fine new doors the king had put on these cells. Do ye ken why he had them built? Too many guards were hurt by the prisoners because they couldnae get a good look inside there before they had to step inside. E’en the prisoners who were chained could prove dangerous. The king decided the guards needed to see the whole of the inside. So, I can easily see that ye are hiding something no matter where ye stand in there. Tell me, what else did my brother threaten ye with?”
“It will only make ye angry and there is naught ye can do about it anyway.”
“Ilsabeth, I can stand here waiting for a verra long time.”
“Aye, I suspicion ye can,” she muttered and sighed. “He thinks I can give him a son.”
She winced as his grip on her hand tightened. Ilsabeth could see his fury tighten his face and darken his eyes. A part of her was very pleased by this sign of possessiveness, maybe even jealousy, but she knew it was a waste of their time. Henry could not reach her in this prison; he could only threaten her. Simon needed to use his anger and need to protect to capture his brother and put an end to the man’s evil games. The expression on Simon’s face told her that it was not going to be easy to get him to ignore Henry’s talk.
Simon took a deep breath and let it out slowly, easing the grip he had on Ilsabeth as well. For a moment all he had been able to think about was killing Henry. He had had to fight the urge to run right out into the town and try to find his mad brother and end his life. That would solve nothing. Planning was needed if he was to catch a villain as wiley and brutal as Henry and he could only plan well with his head clear.
He had to wonder if Henry had said such a thing knowing Ilsabeth would tell him. It would be the sort of thing Henry would do. It did not mean that Henry had lied, however. Ilsabeth would be the sort of woman Henry would want to take and, if the man had seen her strength and wit, he just might believe she was the type of woman who could give him a son.
“He will never touch ye,” he said.
Simon’s voice was hoarse and deep and Ilsabeth knew anger had a strong grip on him. “He cannae reach me here, Simon. I am safe and now the children are, too. Wheesht, ye are the only one still in danger. Henry hates ye, Simon. He said it was because of the way ye used to watch him with his own eyes, judging him. Henry doesnae think anyone has the right to judge him.”
Just as she had hoped it would, telling Simon why Henry claimed to hate him had tugged at that curious part of his mind enough to pull him free of the tight grip his anger had on him. The anger was still there, but it could now prove more of a strength than a weakness. Ilsabeth realized that she needed Henry gone for more reasons than his threat against the king, against her and her loved ones. She needed him dead so that Simon could shake free of the past, of all that pain that roused such fury inside him whenever Henry drew too near.
“If I watched him too much it was just to ken when it was time to run or when to get my brothers out of Henry’s way.” Simon shook his head. “And a mon needs a guilty conscience to fret o’er being judged for who he is or what he has done. I wouldnae have believed Henry could feel guilty about anything he has done.”
“The mon is mad, Simon. The mad probably only make sense to themselves at times.” She reached through the bars to stroke his cheek. “Get him, Simon, and worry o’er why he is what he is, later. Stop him now.”
He kissed her palm, released her hand and left, searching out the guard. The anger that had swept over him when Ilsabeth had told him what Henry had said was leashed now, but not gone. Simon knew he had to stop allowing what Henry did or said to enrage him so. That rage came from old wounds, from the fact that Henry was the one responsible for Simon’s loss of a true family, for the man had driven away everyone close to them, or killed them. It was time to pull free of that past and deal with the traitorous game Henry played now.
The guard was quick to understand the threat posed by the ability of men to come and go from the bowels of the keep unnoticed and unguarded. In a short time there were guards, soldiers, and some of Simon’s men searching every prison cell, every wall, and every twist and turn of the labyrinth below the keep. Simon worked with Gowan, planning a way to set a trap for Henry and Walter once they found the way the men were secretly slipping inside.
Ilsabeth watched the men searching and waited patiently for a cry of discovery. When it came she breathed a sigh of relief. There would be no more visits from Henry. She knew it was important for the safety of the king, but that did little to dim the pure selfishness of her relief. Henry terrified her.
She smiled when Simon appeared at her cell door. “Ye found it.”
“Aye, and ‘tis because of ye that we e’en kenned a need to look,” he said. “ ‘Tis an old bolt-hole. It was sealed and they did their best to make it look as if it still was. It was Gowan who felt the slight movement of air where there should have been none. We are setting a trap now.”
“Ye think they will come back?”
He heard the fear in her voice and reached through the bars to take her hands in his. “Aye. Once my head cleared of my anger at Henry, I recalled that Walter also had a reason to see ye here. He still wants ye to run to France, aye?”
Ilsabeth grimaced and felt herself blush. “Aye. I confess, Simon; I angered both men with my sharp tongue. I dinnae think Walter kens Henry’s plans for me, either.”
“We are close to ending this, Ilsabeth. Verra close. And then ye willnae have to fear either mon again.”
Ilsabeth hoped he was right. She was tired of being afraid. Part of her saw it as a weakness but she knew that was foolish. She had good reason to be afraid and it would keep her wary and alert.
“I pray ye are right, Simon, but dinnae let concern o’er me take up too much of your thoughts. I am safe here and weel ye ken it. Go and finish this.”
It was a little awkward but Simon gave her a kiss through the bars and then walked away. There were plans to be made. He intended to make more than the one plan to capture Henry and Walter as they tried to sneak back inside through the old bolt-hole. Simon knew that, no matter how good their trap was, how well it was set, there was a chance the men they wanted could escape.
He wanted to be absolutely certain that there was a second plan ready to be set in motion immediately.
Simon cursed long and viciously as he looked around at the dead and wounded men, most of them Walter and Henry’s men. He recognized a few men from Lochancorrie. Many of the others looked like men who wielded their swords for anyone with coin enough to pay for their skill. Two days of planning and lying in wait and all they had were the soldiers hired or coerced by the traitors.
“More of your clan?” asked Gowan, studying the six battered men huddled together against a wall.
“Aye. I suspect they are more men like that lad Wallace I told ye about, who did such a poor job of trailing after the children. I will talk to them but they have all probably been forced into this in the same way Wallace was. None of them put up much of fight, did they?”
“Nay, although ye think they would fight rather than get caught and chance being tried and excuted as traitors. That would scare many a mon into fighting to the death.”
“Henry probably scares them more. This way he will be thinking they were killed here and, if Henry holds a sword at the throat of their loved ones, it might ease now. Or that is how they will think. I dinnae think many of those at Lochancorrie believe anyone can do anything to rid them of Henry. ”
“Weel, I will leave ye to decide what to do with them.”
“Thank ye. I will speak with them.”
Gowan looked around. “Most of these others are naught but swords for hire although I can see a few from houses I ken weel and have been watching for a while. They dinnae have the look of hopelessness your lot does so I am thinking they didnae disagree with what was asked of them. Some men think much akin to the laird they serve. But, we didnae get Sir Walter or your brother.”
Highland Protector Page 20
