Ransom

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The day of reckoning had finally arrived. John, king of the realm, didn't walk into the hall; he strutted. At least twenty soldiers, all in shiny new garb, marched in behind him in pairs, then fanned out, forming a circular cocoon from one side of the entrance to the other. The walls were quickly lined with heavily armed soldiers who had but one intent-to make certain their king remained safe.

Gillian and Bridgid made a formal curtsy to one knee, bowed their heads, and waited for the king to grant them permission to stand.

Bridgid peeked. Curious to get a good look at the man she had been taught was the devil incarnate, she was a little surprised he didn't have horns growing out of his head. John was quite ordinary looking, actually, with dark, wavy hair in need of a trim and a thick, wiry, brown beard speckled with gray. His size was ordinary too, and she guessed that the top of his head wouldn't even reach the shoulders of Ramsey or Brodick or Iain.

The three barons genuflected to their king, and after John had granted them permission to rise, Alford crooned, "What a wonderful surprise, my lord."

"Yes, indeed," John replied. "What mischief have you gotten yourself into now, Alford," he drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No mischief," Alford assured him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my lord?"

"I haven't come to see you," John said, impatient as he turned his back on Alford and strode purposefully across the hall.

Gillian and Bridgid were suddenly staring at a pair of shiny boots.

"Stand," John commanded.

The ladies did as he ordered. Bridgid looked the king right in his eyes, but then she noticed that Gillian's head was bowed and so she hastened to imitate her.

"Which one of you fair ladies is Gillian?"

"I am Lady Gillian, my lord," she answered.

Alford came running. "May I ask, my lord. What business do you have with my ward?"

"Your ward, Alford? Did I give her to you then?"

Gillian slowly raised her gaze, and the king was so startled by the intensity of her green eyes and her exquisite features he drew a sharp breath. He spoke his thought aloud. "She is magnificent. Why hasn't she been brought to my court?"

"I didn't think you would want the daughter of a murderer in your court," Alford said. "As you know, I firmly believe that Gillian's father was involved in the plot to kill Arianna and steal the treasure, and I felt that you would have been constantly reminded of the tragedy every time you saw Gillian. That is why I didn't bring her to court, my lord. I didn't think you should have to bear such pain."

John's eyes narrowed. "Yes, of course. You have been a very thoughtful friend, Alford."

The baron inclined his head and then remarked, "Gillian has been living in the north of England with her Uncle Morgan… Baron Chapman. And she has only just returned to Dunhanshire. I'll send her upstairs so you won't have to look upon her any longer."

"You'll do no such thing. Go and sit with Hugh and Edwin while I have a word in private with these two ladies."

Alford didn't dare argue. He gave Gillian a threatening glance before hurrying to join his friends. Too agitated to sit, he stood with Hugh and Edwin and strained to overhear the king's conversation.

John ignored the barons as he once again addressed Gillian. "Where is it?" he demanded urgently, and before she could respond, he asked, "Do you have Arianna's treasure with you?"

"No, my lord, but I think I know where it's hidden."

"You think?" he repeated in a near shout. "You aren't certain? If I have made this journey on a whim, I assure you I will be displeased."

His face was turning red, and she hurried to explain before he completely lost his temper and went into one of his famous rages.

"I didn't have time to look for myself, but I'm certain it's here… at Dunhanshire. Just a short walk away," she assured him.

Her explanation calmed him. "If the treasure is recovered, you do realize that it will prove without a doubt that your father was involved in the murder of Arianna?"

She knew she shouldn't argue with the king, but she couldn't stop herself from defending her father. "I was told… and I believe… that my father was an honorable man, and honorable men do not kill innocent women."

"I, too, believed your father was a loyal subject and a good man," John said, "…until he betrayed me."

"I cannot believe that he did betray you," she whispered. "My mother had only just passed away, and my father was mourning her at home… here, my lord, at Dunhanshire."

"I know he wasn't in court when Arianna died, but Alford is convinced that he was in league with another. Aye, the man who killed Arianna passed the treasure to your father. If the treasure is here, it proves Alford's theory is correct."

"I don't know what to say to convince you that my father was innocent," she said.

"Soon we may have proof that he was a blackheart. If you had kept silent about the treasure's whereabouts, I never would have known for certain that your father betrayed me. Why, then, did you send for me?"

"Alford imprisoned my Uncle Morgan and told me that he would kill him if I didn't go to the Highlands and find my sister. Alford believed she had the box, and I was ordered to bring her and the treasure back to him."

John glanced at Bridgid but otherwise continued to ignore her as he defended his baron's actions. "Alford's zeal in helping me with my search for Arianna's treasure has not dimmed over the years, and I cannot fault him for going to such extremes. Besides, it appears the end might justify the means." Smiling as though he were a father explaining his precocious son's behavior, he added, "But he has his faults, and one is greed. I'm sure he wanted you to bring the treasure to him so that he could give it to me and collect the reward. I would do the same thing, and so, apparently, would you."

"My lord, I don't want a reward. Truly I don't."

"Then what do you want?"

"My Uncle Morgan is one of your faithful barons, and I ask that you protect him."

"That is all you want?"

"Yes, my lord."

The king's disposition shifted as quick as a bolt of lightning, and he was suddenly charming and solicitous. Though she had heard about his radical changes of mood, she was still caught off guard.

"I have just spoken at length with Morgan," he announced.

Gillian's voice shook when she asked, "He is well, my lord?"

"He's old and tired and making outrageous accusations, but he is well. You'll see him soon."

Tears clouded her vision. "Thank you, my lord," she whispered. "I know you are anxious to see if the treasure is here, but if I may, I would ask…"

"Yes, my dear?"

"If I'm wrong and the box isn't here, please don't take your displeasure out on my Uncle Morgan. He had nothing to do with this. I alone am responsible."

"And I should therefore turn my wrath on you?"

"Yes, my lord."

John sighed. "I have waited over fifteen years for the return of the treasure, and I find that anticipation increases my joy and my sadness. I don't want to hurry," he explained. "For the possible disappointment will be very painful for me. As for Morgan," he continued. "I assure you that even if the treasure isn't here, your uncle will still have my protection, and so shall you. Do you think me an ogre? I will not hold you responsible for your father's crimes."

Though she knew that at this moment he was sincere, she also knew how swiftly he could change his mind. She didn't dare put her faith in his promise.

"You are very kind, my lord," she whispered.

"I can upon occasion be kind," he arrogantly agreed. "Now answer a question for me."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Are you married to the giant barbarian with the long golden hair named Laird Buchanan?"

Gillian swayed. "I am his wife, my lord," she stammered. "He is here… you have seen him?"

"Aye, I've seen him," he drawled. "And he is indeed here, with two other lairds and an army at their side. The Highlanders surround Dunhanshire."

Bridgid's deep indrawn breath drew the king's attention. "I've been ignoring you far too long, my dear. Forgive me my poor manners and tell me, who are you?"

"She is my dearest friend," Gillian said. "Her name is Bridgid KirkConnell."

Bridgid smiled at the king, and within a heartbeat he was smiling back. "Ah, you are the lady the Laird Sinclair has come for."

"I do belong to his clan, my lord," she whispered, nervous to have the king's undivided attention. "And I am one of his many loyal followers, but he wouldn't come all this way just for me."

The king laughed. "From the way he was ranting at me, I believe you're mistaken. I must admit the Highlanders are an impressive and intimidating lot, to be sure. When I saw them, I considered returning to London to get additional troops, and I was certainly urged to do just that by my guard," he added. "But then the three lairds separated from their men and rode hard to intercept me. It seems they had only just found out that the two of you were inside, and they were… highly agitated. I commanded them to stay outside the walls, and I will tell you that I was most unhappy when Laird Maitland dared to argue with me. When I told him that you had sent for me, and that I would not allow any harm to come to you, they grudgingly agreed to wait. Why did you come all this way, Bridgid?"

She looked at Gillian, hoping she would explain.

"Baron Alford believes Bridgid is my sister."

"But she isn't," the king said.

"No, my lord, she isn't."

"We lied to Baron Alford," Bridgid blurted. "But Gillian told me I mustn't lie to you, my lord."

The king seemed amused by Bridgid's honesty. "And she was right," he said before turning to Gillian again. "And what of your sister?"

Gillian bowed her head. "She is forever lost to us, my lord."

John nodded, accepting what she said as fact. Alford interrupted the conversation then by offering the king refreshments.

"I'll dine with you when I return."

"Return, my lord?" Alford asked.

"Yes," John answered. "Lady Gillian is going to show me where she believes Arianna's treasure is hidden. We will not know for certain that it's here until we look for ourselves."

Alford took a step toward his commander and motioned for him to come to him.

John smiled at Gillian. "Shall we go then?" he asked as he stepped back and graciously offered his arm to her.

Her hand trembled when she placed it on the king's arm. Noticing her distress, John put his hand on top of hers, gave it an affectionate pat, and commanded that she cease being afraid of him.

"You are a loyal subject, are you not?"

"Yes, my lord, I am."

"Then, as I said before, you have nothing to fear from me. Do you know, Gillian, that you remind me of her?"

"Your Arianna, my lord?"

His face dropped, and he became melancholy. "Aye, she was my Arianna, and though your eyes are not the same color as hers, they are as beautiful. I loved her, you know, as I have never loved any other woman. She was… perfection. I often wonder what course my life would have taken had she lived. She brought out the good in me, and when I was with her, I wanted to be… different." He sounded like a very young boy now in the throes of his first love.

The king suddenly pulled away from her and turned to Alford, for he'd only just noticed his friend was in deep discussion with one of his soldiers. John lashed out, berating the baron for his rudeness, reminding him that when he was in the room, it was the law of England that he, and only he, be the center of attention.

Having just been duly chastised, Alford bowed his head while he gave John his apology.

"What were you discussing with your soldier?" John demanded. "It must have been important for you to be so impertinent."

"Horace is one of your most loyal soldiers, and I was telling him that I would ask you it you would allow him and three other worthy men the honor of escorting you and Gillian."

With a negligible shrug, John granted permission. "We won't be gone long," he said, and then he commanded his soldiers, "All of you stay here. No one leaves this hall until I return. Bridgid, my dear, will you please wait here?"

"Yes, my lord," she replied.

Alford drew the king's attention yet again. "May I accompany you and Gillian?"

"Sit down," John commanded.

Alford didn't heed the warning in the king's voice and dared to ask a second time.

Irritated with his baron, John decided to make him suffer. "No, you may not come along," he said once again. "And while Gillian and I are taking our stroll, I suggest that you and Hugh and Edwin stay away from the open windows."

Alford looked confused by the suggestion. John chuckled as he explained. "Did I forget to mention that Dunhanshire is completely surrounded by Highlanders? Ah, I can see from your expression I did forget. How remiss of me."

"The heathens are here?" Alford's eyes bulged, and he swallowed loudly as he tried to get past his surprise.

"I just said that they were," John replied. "You do know why they've come, don't you?"

Alford feigned ignorance. "No, my lord, I don't know why. How could I?"

John grinned, enjoying his friend's discomfort. He was annoyed with Alford for being so impudent in his presence and also because of the mischief he'd caused with Baron Morgan. The king had few loyal lords now, and even though Morgan wasn't a favored baron, he was well thought of by the others, and his voice in support of John's policies could well make a difference in the future. Alford's zeal in trying to locate Arianna's treasure had put his king in the middle of a squabble, and he planned to make his friend suffer a bit longer before he forgave him.

In truth, he would always forgive him for the simple reason that Alford had brought Arianna to him. No matter how severe his transgressions were, John would never forget that most wondrous gift.

Thinking to make him squirm now, he explained the Highlanders' mission. "Would you like me to tell you why they've come all this way?"

"If you are so inclined," Alford replied smoothly.

"They want to kill you. Let me try to remember their exact words. Ah, yes, I recall now. The tallest one… his name is Maitland. He told me he's going to tear your heart out with his bare hands and shove it down your throat. Isn't that amusing? He's big enough to do it," he added with a chuckle.

The king didn't expect an answer and continued on. "All three of the lairds were arguing-and in front of me, mind you-as to which one has the right to kill you."

Alford forced a smile. "Yes, that is amusing."

"They've also made threats against you, Edwin, and you as well, Hugh. The Buchanan laird has gotten it into his head that one of you struck Lady Gillian. He believes he now has the right to cut off the culprit's hands. Oh, he also mentioned cutting your feet off, Alford, or did I already mention that threat?"

Alford shook his head. "You should kill them for threatening your friends," Alford cried. "Aren't we loyal to each other? You and I have been through many trying times, and I have always stood by your side against your enemies, including the pope. Kill them," he demanded with a shout.

"No," Gillian cried out.

John patted her arm. "See how you have upset this dear lady? Come along, Gillian. This discussion can wait until we return, but I assure you, I have no plans to kill the lairds. Even I know that I would have every man in the Highlands at my doorstep, and I have enough disruption in my kingdom at the moment. I don't need more."

The doors were thrown open and they stepped outside. Gillian was looking down at the steps as she lifted her skirts, and when she looked up again, she came to a dead stop and gasped.

There, standing in the center of the courtyard, were Iain and Ramsey and Brodick. They were all armed, with their swords in their scabbards.

Brodick's eyes seemed to blaze with anger, and he was staring at her. She couldn't take her gaze off him, and he looked as if he couldn't wait to get his hands on her.

John had given orders that they were to remain outside the walls, and he therefore didn't know what to make of the lairds' appearance. How, then, had they gotten inside? More curious than angry, he glanced at Gillian and asked, "You willingly pledged yourself to that laird?"

"I did willingly marry him, my lord," she answered. "And I love him very much."

"Then what they say is true. Love is surely blind."

Not knowing if he was jesting and expected her to laugh, or serious and expected her agreement, she remained silent.

As she moved closer to Brodick, he shifted his position until his legs were braced apart and he took up twice the space. Iain and Ramsey immediately did the same.

Their message was clear. They weren't going to let Gillian get past them, and she knew that if she and the king tried to walk around them, they'd block them.

The rest of the king's soldiers stood in the background with their hands on the hilt of their swords, watching and waiting for John's command.

The lairds seemed impervious to the soldiers, and Gillian was frantic with worry for their safety.

"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.

"Yes you do. Your dagger."

"No, it's not mine," Alford shouted.

John slowly began to walk around the table. "No? Your crest is on the handle."

"Someone… stole my dagger… Gillian's father must have…"

John's voice lashed out like a whip. "Her father wasn't in court, but you were, Alford. You killed her."

"No, I didn't…"

John pounded the tabletop with his fist. "If you want to live, you will tell me the truth."

"If I want to live…"

"I won't kill you as long as you tell me the truth," John promised. "I want to know exactly what happened, but first you will admit it to me. You killed her, didn't you?"

"She was going to betray you," he stammered. "She wouldn't listen to my… counsel… and she was determined to come between you and your advisers. I sought only to protect my king. She had gone mad with power because she knew… yes, she knew she could control you."

"I want to know exactly what happened," the king demanded, his voice shaking with fury.

"I went to her chamber to reason with her, and she mocked me, my lord. Aye, she did. Your squire carried in the box and put it on the table. It was open and your dagger was inside. The squire didn't see me, and after he left, Arianna took your dagger and cut a lock of her hair. She put the dagger and the hair in the box-"

"And you continued to reason with her?" John demanded.

"Yes, but she wouldn't listen. She swore she wouldn't let anyone get in her way. She attacked me, and I had to defend myself."

"And so you cut her throat."

"It was an accident. I'll admit I panicked. Your squire had returned and was pounding on the door, and without thinking, I threw my dagger in the box and closed it. I was going to tell you. Yes, yes, I was," Alford cried out.

"And because you had a key to the chamber, your escape was so simple, wasn't it? You locked the door and took the box to your chamber. Is that right, Alford?"

"Yes."

"And then you consoled me when I found her body-good friend that you are."

"I was going to confess, but you were so distraught, I decided to wait."

"No, you decided to blame the Baron of Dunhanshire."

"Yes," Alford admitted, trying to sound contrite. "Gillian's father had come to my estate to discuss the common land we shared. He saw the box when he came into the hall unannounced but pretended he hadn't, and the second my back was turned, he stole it. He was going to keep it for himself," he ended.

"You didn't believe that," John muttered. "You knew he would bring it to me, didn't you, Alford? And so you lay siege to Dunhanshire and killed him to silence him."

"I had to kill Arianna," Alford repeated. "She would have destroyed you."

"Me?" the king shouted. He couldn't continue the game any longer. He stood behind Alford now and raised Iain's sword. "The Devil take you," he screamed as he thrust the blade through Alford's back.

The baron rigidly arched up and then slowly fell forward. John stepped back, his chest heaving with rage. The room was deathly quiet as John picked up the box and walked toward the door.

"Your son has been avenged," he told Iain Maitland as he motioned to his soldiers to follow him.

Hugh, who had been cowering behind the soldiers, called out to him. "My king, Edwin and I had no part in Alford's treachery."

John ignored his baron. As he was striding past the three lairds, he said, "They're all yours."

The door closed as Iain and Ramsey and Brodick slowly advanced.