Chapter 24
The rain ended during the night, and the next morning dawned brisk and clear. It was one of those rare November days in the Highlands, when the sky was robin’s egg blue and the sun was more than a cold disc in the southern sky. It was a liar’s day, a day that banished all thoughts of the coming winter by aping the appearance of early spring.
Elspeth rode a gentle mare with an easy gait. She was more comfortable on her own mount and figured it was a measure of Rob’s trust that he’d given her one. Strange to think that only a few weeks ago, she’d have bolted away from him as fast as she could go. Now she followed behind him along trails only he could see, through passes where the peaks rose around them on all sides, over ridgelines and then back down. They stopped frequently.
“To rest your leg,” Rob said.
But Elspeth sensed that he was drawing out the journey for other reasons. That he was reluctant to return to his home with her in tow.
“Are ye ashamed to bring me to Caisteal Dubh?” she finally blurted out.
He grimaced at her. “Why would ye say such a thing?”
She wondered whether he was loath to bring another woman into the home where he’d lived with his wife. “Ye dinna seem to be in a hurry to get there.”
“Ye’re right about that. If we dinna hurry, we’ll no’ run into an ambush,” he said, and she noticed for the first time that his gaze scoured the forest and rock outcroppings as they went. “I’m no’ ashamed to bring ye to my home. I only wish it were under different circumstances, ye ken.”
“Ye’re the one who stole me from the altar,” she reminded him.
“And ye’ll never let me forget it.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “Never in a hundred years.”
They topped a rise and looked down into a little valley. There was a castle of gray stones so dark they were almost black. Caisteal Dubh, the Dark Castle. It was ringed with a stout curtain wall, and a water-filled moat ran along three sides. A steep granite cliff rose behind it. A highly defensible position. There would be no hostile approach from that direction.
“Looks as if your father and bridegroom willna let me forget it either,” Rob said grimly.
Spread out around the other three sides of Caisteal Dubh, a host of men were encamped. Pennants emblazoned with Stewart and Drummond colors whipped in the wind. Several parties of men were felling trees to build siege works.
Rob hated to see them waste the lumber. Caisteal Dubh had never been taken and wouldn’t be on his watch either.
“They’re early,” Elspeth said. “Ye told them not to come till the end of the month.”
“They guessed I wouldna harm ye, but by now, they must also know ye’re no’ in the castle.”
“For all they know, I’m dead.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Merciful God, I hadna thought of that before. Oh, Rob, my poor parents.”
“Once we’re safe in the castle, I’ll go out under a flag of truce and let your father know ye’re well. Ye’ll have to show yourself on the wall, aye?”
“That’ll do, but I dinna think they’ll let us ride up to the front gate. How do ye plan on getting in?”
He leaned forward, surveying the array of fighting men amassed before his keep. His people were safe inside, he was sure, but if the army remained long, the land would be scarred. Feeding that many men each day would deplete the nearby game, and if any of his crofters had a private store of grain, he’d bet it was already gone. He had to make sure Elspeth was safe, and then he’d deal with the men at his gate.
“Can ye keep a secret?” he asked.
“Aye.”
“Then I’ll take ye in Caisteal Dubh’s back door.”
***
They looped around on game trails a bit, and Elspeth almost lost track of which direction the castle lay. Then Rob set his face toward a steep incline. There didn’t appear to be any trail worthy of the name making an ascent on it. Only goats might attempt such a rock face. She was certain she’d be unable to drive her mare up it.
“Are we to pass through stone?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He swiveled in his saddle and looked back at her. “What I’m about to show you is a way known only to the laird of the castle. My father showed me. Someday, I’ll show my son.”
“Ye have a child?”
He looked at her intently. “No’ yet.”
Elspeth’s chest ached. For all she knew, she might be bearing Rob’s child already. She didn’t know whether that would simplify or compound their problem.
“The secret is both a blessing and a curse,” he said as he dismounted and tied his horse to a pine. Then he helped her down.
“I’ve never kenned how a thing can be a blessing and a curse at once.”
“’Tis a blessing because should there be a need to enter or leave Caisteal Dubh by stealth, as there is for us now, there’s a way to do it.” His mouth set in a hard, thin line. “But if this secret should become known, ’tis the only way the castle will ever fall.”
He took both the horses’ reins and led them around a boulder. “Coming?”
She followed. Behind the rock, another cave opened into the steep incline, its dark mouth yawning.
“Ye seem to have a way with the deep places of the earth, Rob MacLaren.”
And the deep places in her heart. Though they’d declared their love, it still felt tenuous. Like a rope of two strands that might break if too much weight were put on it.
“Do ye seek out caves wherever ye go?” she asked.
“They seem to seek me. I’ve stumbled over several in my travels, and all by accident.”
“Or by running from those whose herds ye’ve reived?”
“Aye, ye’ve the right of it,” he admitted with a laugh.
She followed him into the gloom. He handed the horses’ reins to her and pulled out his flint. Once a torch was lit and placed in a holder in the rock wall, Elspeth could see this first chamber of the cave was even-floored and dry. It would serve well as a temporary stable. Rob put up some planks to bar the way out and keep their mounts safely in.
“After I see ye settled, I’ll come back and tend to these two. If this business with yon armies drags out, I may have to set them loose, but if I do, they’re likely to be caught by your bridegroom’s men.” He patted the mare’s neck, and she whickered softly. “Horsemeat is stringy, but it’ll feed a multitude.”
“Dinna set them free,” Elspeth said. “And dinna call Lachlan my bridegroom. I’ll no’ marry him now.”
Rob’s eyes glowed at her. “It pleases me to hear it. Come, lass.”
He took the torch again and caught up her hand. He led her unerringly through a long tunnel, ignoring the side passages that led off into the dark. She ran her free hand over the side walls. There were tool marks gouged in the stone.
“This was made by human hands.”
“Aye. Parts of it,” he said. “But the work was done so long ago, the doing of it has fallen out of memory. Some of this cave system has been here since the days of Noah, and others have been improved upon over the years. Like this.”
They’d come to a series of stone steps leading up. They were by no means regular in size or height but were obviously the work of man.
“Some of the steps may be wet and slick, aye?” Rob said. “Be careful.”
She would have been afraid in the cave if she’d been alone. And the steps looked daunting because of the throb in her leg, but as long as she held Rob’s hand, she feared nothing.
Elspeth concentrated so hard on putting her feet aright on each step, she lost track of how long they climbed. Finally the stairs ended, and the cave continued in a fairly level corridor. It was wide enough for them to walk two abreast, and Rob didn’t have to duck his head at all.
“I hear voices,” she said, and hers echoed several times off the stone around them.
“Aye,” he whispered back. “We’re close. Ye’re hearing the folk who live inside the castle. The sound comes down through cracks and fissures. I expect it might go up as well, so…” He placed a finger on her lips.
She nodded, and they walked on. The voices grew louder and then faded. Finally, they came to a dead stop.
“What is this? There’s no way out,” she said.
“I was hoping ye’d say that,” he said. “It means the entrance might yet be secret, even if someone made it this far.” He handed her the torch. “Now we go up.”
There was a narrow chimney rising above them. Rob began climbing the walls, placing his hands and feet carefully in finger- and toeholds worn slick from centuries of use. Then he braced himself with one foot on each side of the space and shoved at the seemingly solid roof over his head.
The stone lifted, and he moved it sideways to create an opening wide enough for his shoulders and arms to disappear through.
Faint light showed around him. Then he lifted himself the rest of the way out and disappeared from her sight.
Elspeth was left in the corridor below, holding the torch. The walls seemed to close in on her.
“Rob?”
A rope flopped down before her, and Rob’s face reappeared in the opening overhead.
“Put your foot in the loop, snuff out the torch, and I’ll pull you up,” he said.
She was quick to obey. The thought of remaining in the cave alone a moment longer made her heart pound. The rope bore her up smoothly. When her head cleared the opening, she saw that there was a pulley attached to a very low ceiling. Rob was barely able to sit upright in the short space as he hauled her up.
He tied off the rope and lifted her the rest of the way with a hand under each armpit.
“What is this place?” she whispered.
“We’re in the chapel.” He slid the slab back into position to cover the opening. “Under the altar.”
He peered out through a slit in the altar cloth and then crawled out. Elspeth followed him.
“How could this entrance cause Caisteal Dubh to fall?” she asked. “One man could hold this spot against an army.”
“Aye, he could,” Rob said. “But what if someone was to enter by stealth as we just did, when no one was on guard, and then open the gates?”
“Why not post a guard on the altar all the time?”
“I asked my father the same thing. He said no matter how much ye may trust someone, the human heart is weak and might be corrupted. A secret is best guarded when fewer souls know about it.”
“And no one’s ever found the way by accident?” she said.
“Who would think to look for something no one knows is there?” he said as he lifted her to her feet. “I think there may have been a priest or two who’s been surprised over the years when the laird miraculously appeared under the altar, but never in my lifetime. Or my father’s. Or his father’s. The secret is well hidden.”
“’Tis safe with me,” she assured him.
“And ye are safe with me,” he said. “Welcome to my home. Come now. There are those who will be glad to see us.”
He led her out of the chapel and into the bailey. The sun had set, but the courtyard was lit by countless torches and teemed with life. All his crofters, their bairns, and livestock had been crammed into the space. But instead of quivering in fear over the armed encampment beyond the stout walls, the castle’s inhabitants took for granted that the stronghold, which had never fallen, was indeed impregnable. The atmosphere was more like a makeshift fair.
Folks had set up stalls to barter their goods and make more of them. The Caisteal Dubh ovens were fired up. But the aroma of freshly baked barley bread didn’t quite mask the stench of too many barnyard animals and people in too small an area. Children frisked like colts in a game of tag between the stalls.
The only ominous note was the determined clang of the smith’s hammer. At least one soul seemed to realize a conflict was coming and was making preparations.
“The MacLaren!” someone called out. And the cry was taken up immediately as the people realized their laird was suddenly and miraculously in their midst. Rob was surrounded by his awed people, who knew he’d not come in through the barred main gate or any of the other smaller but heavily fortified ones. Men doffed their caps, and women covered their mouths with their aprons.
And narrowed their eyes with suspicion at Elspeth.
So that’s the Stewart maiden, she could almost hear them thinking. The cause of all this trouble.