“They went to ride the boundaries, to talk to people, see what may or may nay be happening,” he answered. “Been some reports of cattle and sheep being stolen. At least one place found where someone was certain one of the stolen animals had been butchered.”
Annys clenched her hands in her hair, barely stopping herself from tearing at it like some madwoman. “The bastard has ceased playing with us.”
“Thought that myself when the village was fired,” said Sir Gybbon. “That was so quickly stopped, the damage so slight and quickly mended that I decided I must be wrong. I now wonder if what drew the others away was naught but part of a plan to grab the wee lad. Fewer people watching the lad today.”
“Of course. I would ne’er have thought Sir Adam capable of devising such a clever plan, an almost intricate one, but he may have one or two men with him who are more sharp-witted.”
“True.” Sir Gybbon signaled to Gavin, drawing the tall, thin youth to his side. “Ye need to hie yourself to Sir Harcourt and tell him someone has taken the boy. Fast as ye can, lad. Go now.” He looked at Annys. “Where does that bolt-hole come out?”
Silently thanking the man for giving her something to do, Annys took him to where the tunnel beneath the walls of Glencullaich came out. He carefully studied the ground and Annys found herself doing the same. It looked very much as if someone had dragged something, or someone, along until he reached a place just beyond the tree line where two horses had waited. Footprints clearly marked that person’s return to the bolt-hole. Someone she did not ken about had a key. Someone had handed her child over to the enemy, someone from within the keep itself.
Annys felt a stinging in her palms. She slowly opened her clenched hands and winced at the marks her nails had left in her palms. Several of them seeped blood. She needed to rein in her fear and anger. Neither would help her find Benet.
“I would like to go into the bolt-hole from the other end now, m’lady,” said Sir Gybbon.
“Do ye think ye will find anything to help us?” she asked as she led him back to the keep.
“Cannae tell until I have a look.”
“Then look, please. We need to find the traitor within these walls.”
Although she could only hear the tone of his words as he answered since he was already dropping down into the tunnel, she knew it was an agreement. It had just been a particularly profane one. Annys wished he had not hidden his words. She would like to use a few curses, she decided as she followed him into the tunnel. Soon she held the torch so that he could better study the ground as they walked along.
Sir Gybbon retrieved the torch when they reached the end and Annys climbed out first. He was just climbing out of the bolt-hole when the sound of swift horses reached her ears. Annys spun around and saw Harcourt and his men returning with a gratifying speed.
She knew exactly when Harcourt saw her and Gybbon for he and his men turned their mounts to ride toward them. Her heart pounded with hope and she realized she was expecting him to fix this. Annys cursed that weakness, sternly reminding herself that he would not be staying with her and she could not start to depend on him so much. This time, however, she would take whatever help he could give, do whatever he asked of her, if he just brought their child back home safely.
“What has happened?” Harcourt asked as he reined in, swiftly dismounted, and went to Annys.
“I begin to think we need that question engraved on the coat of arms,” she said in a shaking voice. “Benet is missing,” she replied and felt every word as a stab straight to the heart.
He pulled her into his arms and Annys did not resist. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight, trying to draw some of his strength into her own body. There was no doubt in her mind that Sir Adam had taken her child. She could only pray that he did not actually have his hands on Benet yet. There was just one reason Sir Adam would want her baby. Benet gained the man nothing unless he was removed as the laird of Glencullaich. Annys prayed her baby was not being led to the slaughter.
“I willnae waste time asking if ye have searched for him,” Harcourt said, knowing full well that Annys and her people knew every single place the boy would hide and would have turned over every stone in the place looking for the boy. “Why are ye here?”
“Someone took the boy out this bolt-hole,” said Gybbon.
“Are ye certain?” Annys said, pulling away from Harcourt enough to look at Gybbon. “I saw what ye did but, although I cannae think of anything else that could have caused such marks, I am nay skilled at reading such signs. And I am nay sure I am thinking too clearly, either.”