Page 12 of The Falcon Laird
“Sir Oliver,” Edward barked out. “Did you get the truth from her regarding that gold, as I asked?”
Gavin frowned. “Gold?”
“An old tradition says that there is treasure in Kilglassie Castle,” Edward replied. “Treasure that supports the ceremonial reign of Scottish kings.”
“Ah.” Gavin suddenly understood why Kilglassie had more than ordinary importance to Edward.
“The girl has refused to say where she has hidden it,” Hastings told the king, ignoring Gavin. “I had food withheld from her for days and did what I could to coerce her. If she is near death, I must question her again.”
“Aye. Find out the damned truth of it,” Edward muttered.
“Your Grace, I remind you that Kilglassie is near Loch Doon. Let me act as commander in both places. I will search Kilglassie thoroughly, every stone,” Hastings said.
“Faulkener will search it,” the king said. “Sir Gavin, my chamberlain will draw up a charter of ownership for the castle and its environs. As for the Scottish wench—” He frowned. “You say she is dying?”
“She is exceedingly ill and weak, sire. It seems to be a lung disease. I have seen it in others.”
“Jesu. I do not need another barrage of letters from Rome, and more penances.” Edward nodded. “Remove her from the cage and take her to a convent. I will sign the order for her release. She remains a prisoner until she dies. However—” The king paused.
Gavin raised his eyebrows, hardly daring to speak.
“I want the truth of that hidden gold before she dies. I have captured the Stone of Scone and the Scottish royal regalia and brought them to London. Whatever else the Scots have hidden away in Kilglassie, ’tis mine by right. Find it.”
Gavin frowned. “I will do what I can, Sire.”
“Do more than that. Tell her if the gold is found and sent to me, I will pardon her.”
“I told her that,” Hastings interrupted. “She refused and spat in my face. The woman is a shrew.”
“You should have used force,” the king snapped. “Or charm. Women are susceptible to sweet words.”
“She would not tell her own husband where it was,” Hastings said.
“Henry was a good soldier, but he had no talent with women. Neither do you,” Edward said bluntly. “Unlike Sir Gavin, who has caused countless ladies to do his bidding. The Angel Knight—by God! Hah!” Edward slammed the table triumphantly. “That is our answer!”
“Sire?” Gavin asked apprehensively.
“Win her trust. Charm her and press her for the truth of that gold. Marry her if you must.”
“Sire, she is dying,” Gavin said between his teeth.
“Then hurry. You will be a wealthy widower.” Edward grinned. “Convince her to tell her beloved husband where the gold is kept.”
“Sire,” Hastings said. “I can simply tell the girl she will die unshriven and excommunicated if she refuses to speak. The threat of hell should loosen her tongue.”
“She’d die just to spite you. Gavin will wed her and secure the truth with honey.” Edward grinned.
Listening, Gavin clamped his teeth together. Edward was unconcerned that the girl was dying because of his orders, nor did he care that this new order would render Gavin a widower again within the week. The king cared only about his war, his bottomless greed for land and power and gold, and his consuming need to defeat and punish the Scots. The depth of the king’s wild obsession was frightening. Edward would twist and destroy anything to see his desires carried out in Scotland.
Gavin realized, also, that Edward was thoroughly, soddenly drunk. The validity of these royal promises and orders was shaky indeed.
“Sir Gavin.” Edward pointed. “You came perilously close to treason once. Do not betray me again.”
“My liege,” Gavin bit out, and bowed his head curtly. He shot a piercing look at Hastings that vented only a fraction of his anger. Then he stepped back, turned on his heel, and left the chamber.
Chapter Three
Gavin climbed thecourtyard steps to the parapet, taking them two at a time. He had not found John Keith, though the hour was well past matins. He had expected his uncle to be asleep on a pallet in the great hall, where so many others, soldiers and barons alike, had found space to rest within the crowded castle.
