As she stepped through the doorway she saw Mara just flouncing out. The servant shot Allegra a dark look before descending the stairs.
“Hamish.” Allegra hurried across the room. “Did Mara give you anything to eat?”
He looked up with a smile. “She said you’d sent me some tea. I told her I wouldn’t take it from her hands. She said she would tell my father that I’ve been disrespectful. I don’t believe she likes our game, my lady.”
Allegra gave him a hard, quick hug. “Perhaps not. But I’m delighted that you remembered the rules. Now.” She looked around. “While no one is here, why don’t you show me your hiding place?”
With a delighted laugh he led her to a spot beside the hearth, where he touched a hand to the stone. At once a crack in the wall opened, revealing a narrow passageway.
As they stepped inside, he touched another stone, causing the crack to close. Allegra was forced to hunch over to keep from bumping her head. Ahead of her, little Hamish inched along until he pointed to a pinprick of light up ahead. Soon the light grew and she could see that they’d reached Catherine’s chambers.
There was no doorway on this end. Only a narrow crevice that permitted a limited view of the space between the bed and a side table. As they huddled together, they saw Mara enter the chambers. With a furtive glance around, the servant began stripping the pallet, carrying the furs to the balcony to shake them before returning them to the bed.
But why? Allegra wondered. These chambers had been vacant for more than a year now. What could the servant hope to uncover at this late date?
Each time Mara passed between the bed and side table, Allegra was able to catch a quick glimpse of her before she disappeared again. But every sound could be heard clearly. The snap of the bed linens as she shook them over the balcony. The tap of her booted feet on the wooden floor. The gurgle of water being poured from a pitcher into a basin. And finally the closing of the door as, satisfied that the room had been thoroughly cleaned, the servant took her leave.
When Allegra turned to Hamish, she saw that his face had drained of all color. “What is it, lad? What do you recall?”
“Mara.” His voice was little more than a whisper.
“Go on.” Allegra dropped to her knees and gathered him close. “What about Mara?”
“As Mama’s maid she was always in her chambers. That night...” His tone lowered. “The night my mama died, Mara brought broth. When Mama wouldn’t take it, Mara held the spoon to her lips and forced her.”
Allegra closed her eyes a moment. “It’s as I thought. Come, Hamish. As soon as your father returns from the village, we must tell him what you recall.”
She slowly made her way from the hiding place.
After Hamish touched a finger to the stone, causing the space to open, they stepped into his room.
Allegra straightened. Feeling a chill pass through her, she turned and felt a rush of alarm when she spotted Mordred and Desmond standing with their backs to the closed door. On their faces were matching looks of something she couldn’t quite discern.
“What is it?” She started toward them. “Has something happened to Merrick?”
“Not yet.” Mordred took a step closer. “But soon, I pray.”
At his strange words Allegra stepped back, shielding Hamish with her body. “What do you mean? What do you want here?”
Mordred crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her with a grim smile. “It’s fortunate that you didn’t think to brace the lad’s door, as you’ve been bracing your own.”
“It was you outside my chambers.” And all the while she’d believed it to be Mara.
Mordred shot a sideways glance at his brother. “We’d hoped to frighten you enough to send you fleeing into the night. And would have, if you hadn’t barred our way.”
“Is that what you did to the lord’s wife?”
“She was so much simpler. Such a trusting little fool. With Merrick distracted by invasions on our borders, we had little trouble with the lady Catherine. Especially since her maid had been picked by her and—” he gave a cruel laugh “—trained by us.” He glanced at the lad, peering from behind Allegra’s skirts. “The boy would have been an easy matter to dispose of as well, if you hadn’t come along when you did.”
“Mara’s potions.” Allegra dropped a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Your bold, sunny nature was slowly being eroded, as was your mind.” She turned back to Mordred. “Why?” She studied these two men, who could have been mistaken for brave Highland warriors. “Why did you wish to harm a helpless woman and her son?”
“It had nothing to do with them. They were simply the means to an end.”
Allegra could feel the evil all around her. Alive. Pulsing with darkness. As she looked at these two men, she saw it in their eyes. And suddenly she understood.
“This is about Merrick. You hate him. Not only because he is a powerful lord, but because of his goodness.”
“Goodness.” Mordred sneered. “It’s that goodness that will bring him down.”
“I don’t understand.” Allegra looked from one man to the other.
Mordred gave a sly grin. “Our cousin thinks, because he has shared hearth and home with us, that we are his loyal subjects. After all, we’ve fought by his side. And even offered comfort while he grieved for his beloved Catherine.”
Allegra reached out, taking Hamish’s trembling hand in hers. “And all the while you plotted and schemed against him.”
“We had to, since he wouldn’t accommodate us by dying in battle. The man seems charmed. No matter how many swords he faces, he manages to evade death. Even the army we ordered to greet him at the border of the Mystical Kingdom couldn’t defeat him.”
“It was you who sent those warriors.”
“Aye.” Mordred withdrew a small, sharp dirk from his waist and advanced on Allegra. “Now, my lady, you and the lad will come with us.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
She lifted her head. “I’ll go anywhere you say, as long as you promise to leave Hamish here.”
“Aye. I’ll leave him here. Of course, I’ll have to slit his throat first, to insure his silence. Is that what you want?” He made a grab for the boy, and Allegra leaped in front of him, barring his way.
“You’ll have to kill me first.”
He gave a cruel laugh. “As you wish.”
He slashed out with the knife, catching her arm as she stepped back. She gave a hiss of pain and closed a hand over the wound to stem the flow of blood. When he lunged again, she ducked aside, and his blade bit deeply into the wall beside her head.
While he struggled to withdraw his knife, she caught the lad’s hand and started across the room, hoping to make it to the door. Before she could open it, Hamish was snatched from her grasp.
When she turned, Desmond was holding the boy in his arms, with the blade of his knife pressed to his tender flesh.
Allegra froze.
“Now, my lady.” Mordred gave a mock bow before closing a hand around her wrist. “You will do our bidding, or the lad will pay.”
“Will you toss me from the balcony, as you did Catherine?”
His eyes narrowed. “That wouldn’t be wise. I doubt the household would believe such a thing of you. They might have, if Mara had been able to force her potions on you.” He glanced at his brother. “I’ve decided that the death of you and the lad must be much more dramatic. You’ll be found in a meadow, your poor mangled bodies bloodied by the swords of barbarian invaders.”
“You seem sure of yourself. How will you lure the barbarians to that very place?”
Mordred laughed and his brother joined him. “Right now Merrick is viewing the charred remains of several huts just beyond the village, which were attacked and burned last night by... invaders. Sadly, there were none who survived.”
“You and your brother saw to that, I suppose.”
“Aye. It was unfortunate, since we were forced to sacrifice our own pe
ople. But we needed someone to blame for the deaths of you and the lad. What better idea than invaders who attack and then retreat?”
“How will you explain Merrick’s death?”
“As lover and father, he can be counted on to come to your aid, especially when he finds this missive.”
Mordred reached inside his tunic and retrieved a scrolled parchment. “When he arrives at the meadow he will share your fate at the hands of one remaining invader, who will, of course, escape before we can punish him for his crime.” Mordred laughed. “The people will rise up in anger and unite behind me, their new leader.”
His smile faded, replaced with a look so frightening, Allegra wanted to shrink from him. “Now, woman, you will walk with us to the garden, and from there to the meadow. If you should cry out or do anything to draw attention to yourself, my brother will kill the lad.” He twisted her arm until she gasped in pain. “Do you understand me?”
She nodded, unable to speak over the hard knot of fear lodged in her throat, for she had no doubt these two were capable of all they threatened.
“Good.” He smiled, though it never reached his eyes. They were, she realized, lifeless. Dead. The evil inside him had drained all the light from his eyes, reflecting the darkness of his soul.
He linked his arm with hers. Pressed to her side, hidden by his sleeve, was a small, sharp dirk. “You and the lad will be the perfect tool to aid in the final destruction of our dear cousin, Merrick.”
As they passed Mara, Allegra saw the girl nod her head, as though in silent understanding. The servant was aware of whatever these two evil men planned.
For now, with Hamish’s life in jeopardy, she was helpless to stop them. But when they reached their destination, she was determined to find a way to fight them. Though the depth of their evil frightened her, she knew she must confront it.
As she walked beside Mordred, she reached out a hand to Hamish and felt the way he was trembling.
Her heart went out to this poor lad. For one made timid and shy by evil potions, this must seem like a nightmare. But for now, there was little she could do to comfort him, except to try, with every fiber of her being, to give him her love and strength. “Courage, Hamish. You mustn’t lose heart.”
At her words, Mordred gave a chilling laugh.
“Nay, lad. Don’t lose heart. Let us take it from you and feed it to the forest creatures.”
He leaned close, and she saw the way the boy shrank from him. Whatever kindness he’d once shown the boy was now gone. In its place were his true feelings of cruelty beyond belief.
Determined to spare the lad any further pain, Allegra stopped in her tracks and turned to face Mordred. “Unless you agree to stop tormenting this boy, I’ll shout down the entire household, and you may kill me where I stand.”
Mordred’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll do better than that. I warned you, woman.” To his brother he said, “Slit the lad’s throat.”
“Nay!” Allegra caught hold of Desmond’s hand. “Please, I beg of you. If you’ll spare the lad, I’ll go quiedy.”
“This is your last chance.” Mordred gave her a shove as they stepped out into the garden. “You’ll walk quietly to the meadow, or have the lad’s blood on your hands.”
It occurred to Allegra as they moved woodenly along the grassy path that the day was too beautiful. How could the sun be shining? How could the flowers be so fragrant? Even the chorus of birdsong seemed to mock her.
Oh, Mama. Oh, Gram. Help me find within myself the courage needed to deal with this evil.
Almost at once she felt a sense of peace.
She glanced over at Hamish, being carried in Desmond’s arms. His little face tearstained. His eyes closed against the coming danger.
She would save the lad, she vowed. Or die trying.
Chapter Eighteen
“Merrick urged his steed toward the fortress. The viciousness of the attack against his own villagers had left him stunned and reeling. The invaders had been cunning and cruel, first setting fire to the huts, and then killing entire families as they fled the flames. None had been spared, down to the smallest infant held in its mother’s arms.
The men had apparently been killed quickly, dropped by arrows from a longbow as they fled the flames. The women and young lasses had suffered a harsher fate, having been brutalized and tortured before going to their deaths.
What sort of barbarians could do such things? The first rule of warfare he’d learned as a lad had been to spare those not directly involved in the conflict. Yet these had been peaceful villagers, asleep in their homes, slaughtered like sheep.
He was grateful that he’d asked Allegra to stay close to Hamish. The lad had become so fragile, Merrick feared for him. The boy was bound to hear talk by the servants about this barbarism. Would it remind him of the cruel death of his own mother? Merrick pushed aside the nagging thought that, if pushed too far, his fearful son might leap to his death the way Catherine had.
As he reached the courtyard of Berkshire Castle, he dismounted and handed over the reins to a stable lad before hurrying inside.
Upstairs he made his way to his son’s chambers, needing to hold him for just a moment. The images of the villagers would stay in his mind for a very long time. Just having Hamish close to his heart would ease the pain.
He opened the door and looked around in surprise. Instead of the tidy pallet with its carefully folded furs, the bed was in disarray, as was the room. There was a gap in the wall near the hearth. What was this? A passageway? After peering inside, he realized it led to his wife’s chambers. Puzzled, he stepped back, wondering why Hamish had never mentioned this. Perhaps he had only today discovered it.
Turning away, Merrick spied the parchment lying on the lad’s pallet. As he unrolled it, the words had his heart stopping.
We have the lad and witch. Come to the meadow alone, or they die.
Who had Allegra and Hamish? And why? Invaders couldn’t have penetrated this fortress.
As he started toward the door he spotted the blood on the floor.
Blood?
He knelt and touched a finger to the droplet, feeling his heart sink like a stone. The thought of his son or Allegra being harmed had him filled with helpless fury. With a muttered oath he stormed down the hallway to Allegra’s chambers and saw the serving wench, dressed in one of Allegra’s gowns, studying herself in the looking glass.
“Mara.” His brows drew together in a furious scowl. “What are you doing?”
The lass took a step back, her hand at her throat. “I... meant no harm. I just wanted to see how I would look in something so fine.”
“By what right do you dare to touch the lady’s things?” Merrick’s fingers closed around her upper arm. Through gritted teeth he snarled, “You’ll tell me what this is about, or I swear by heaven I’ll kill you where you stand.”
“It wasn’t my doing.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Mordred promised me I’d be lady of the castle when he became lord.”
“Mordred?” Merrick’s eyes narrowed as he released her and took a step back. “This is my cousin’s doing?”
“Aye.” She rubbed her tender arm and lifted her head, enjoying the fact that she’d managed to catch the lord by surprise. Perhaps he wasn’t as all-knowing as his people believed him to be. “You’re too late to stop him. By now the lad and his healer are dead.”
“Nay.” He swung away and raced down the stairs, sword in hand.
By the time he’d reached the garden, the fear and shock had turned to blind, searing fury. Though he had no idea yet what this was about, he knew this. He would find Allegra and Hamish before it was too late, or those who harmed them would never live to see another day. For if he didn’t make it in time, his own life would never again have purpose or meaning.
With Mordred firmly in control, their little party had left the garden of Berkshire Castle behind, and had entered a high meadow abloom with heather. While they walked Allegra’s mind was awhirl with possibilities. If s
he could distract their abductors, she could snatch Hamish from Desmond’s arms and try to flee. But here in the meadow, there was no place to hide. It was useless to try to run. Instead,
they would have to stand and fight. But how? They had no weapons with which to defend themselves.
“This will do.” Mordred released his hold on her arm and stepped away, taking his sword from its scabbard.
In the same instant Desmond lowered Hamish to the ground. At once the lad stumbled toward Allegra and fell weeping into her arms.
She gathered him close and pressed her mouth to his temple. “You must be brave, Hamish.”
“I’m afraid.” He wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and burrowed his face into her shoulder. “Why would Father’s cousins wish to harm us?”
“Why, lad?” Mordred’s voice had them both looking up. “I’ll tell you why. Desmond and I have been partaking of the crumbs of your father’s kindness for a lifetime.”
Beside him, Desmond nodded in agreement. It occurred to Allegra that Desmond took all his orders from his older brother. In fact, she wondered if he’d ever had a single thought that hadn’t been directed by Mordred.
“Why should Merrick MacAndrew live in a great castle, while our own cottage lay in ruins?” Mordred’s tone lowered with anger. “And why, since we all apprenticed as warriors together, should Merrick be made lord over us?”
Allegra’s eyes widened. “I see. So it is jealousy that rules you. Why do you think the people of Berkshire chose Merrick as their lord?”
“Because his father was lord before him.”
“Nay, Mordred. That is the way of the English. But here in Scotland, the title lord cannot be inherited. Here, every man must earn his own reward. And his own respect.” She turned to the boy. “Remember this, Hamish. The people sensed in your father the ability to lead them through good times and bad. The title lord is an honor bestowed on him not only because of his prowess as a warrior, but also because of his goodness and fairness as a leader.”