Page 96 of The Falcon Laird
“I’ll do my best,” John said; Gavin heard the grin in his answer. John soon found the knife, slid it loose and began to saw away at the ropes that bound Gavin’s hands.
“Are we leaving?” Robbie asked, his high-pitched voice echoing in the chamber.
“Aye, as soon as we can manage,” Gavin said.
“Good. When we leave, we’ll go fetch the treasure. I know where it is now,” Robbie said.
“What!” Fergus said. “Where?”
“It is in the well,” Robbie said blithely.
“Ach, you keep insisting on that,” Fergus said. “But we pulled you out o’ there once, and did not find a thing but a loose stone in the well wall.”
“We went back down yesterday, Patrick and Robbie and I,” Will said.
“What! Ye might have been sore hurt!” Dominy burst out.
“Hush, woman,” John said, low and gentle. “Your lad has some courage. Let him be. Why did you go down there, lad?”
“Because Patrick saw something in the well when he fell before, and wanted to go back,” Will said.
“There was a space, where the stone was loose,” Patrick added. “We saw some light there. We tried to move the stone, but we could not. And we heard birds behind it. Like the doves in the tower, cooing.”
“Doves?” Gavin frowned, trying to remember something. It tapped at the back of his mind, but he could not grasp it.
“Merlin’s treasure is there,” Robbie said confidently. “The birds are guarding it, like in the legend. Merlin sent doves to find the gold. It is why we have them at Kilglassie.”
“Did you say aught o’ this to Hastings?” John asked, echoing Gavin’s next thought.
“Nay. But he knows. I heard Hastings tell one of the guards to search the whoring well,” Will said.
“He said to search the wretched well,” Patrick corrected him. “I heard him. He’ll look there soon.”
Fergus, John, Dominy and Christian began to talk at once.
“Hold!” Gavin called out, his voice cutting through their clamor. John had sliced through the last of his ropes, and he flexed his hands, leaning forward. “Hold and hush, all of you. We can do naught until we get out of this place.” He took the knife from John and turned to Christian, beginning to cut through her bonds. “Where is the tunnel that leads out to the loch?” he asked her as he worked.
“At the back. It is well hidden in a dark corner, behind trestle tables,” she said. “Hastings could not know of it, else he would not have put us here.”
“And how will we get out?” Fergus said. “Your blade will free us from these ropes. But that tunnel leads out o’ the cliffside, with naught but a drop to the loch. And we cannot all swim to shore.”
“Well, I’d like to take a look at it,” Gavin said, as he sliced through John’s ropes next. He handed the dagger to John, who turned immediately to Dominy. Gavin stood, holding out his hand to Christian. “Show me.”
In the darkness, Gavin and Christian stumbled over barrels and sacks as they made their way toward the farthest corner. Feeling his way carefully, Gavin found the trestle tables stacked against the wall. He groped past them to find the rock wall behind it.
He felt Christian’s hand on his arm. “Here, let me,” she said. “I know where it is, and I am smaller. Follow me.” She slid past him and crouched down to wriggle behind the tables.
Gavin dropped to his knees to crawl after her. At her murmur, he followed her through an opening in the rough wall.
Christian stood up in the tunnel, but Gavin could not. Feeling drifts of cool, fresh, moist air, he hunched over and followed her through a passageway that was cut, like the chamber and the other tunnel, from the raw rock of the promontory.
After a few moments, he could see starlight flooding the narrow tunnel opening. Christian reached the end and clung to the rough-cut wall, facing outward. Straightening beside her, Gavin found that they stood in a tall, narrow crevice in the rockface, an opening that would be hidden even in sunlight among the fissures and ledges of the promontory.
Wind blew back their hair and clothing, and the dark loch below glinted and rippled. He looked down and saw that the height was too great to jump safely, though a climb would not be impossible. The cliff face had an abundance of protrusions and ledges for hands and feet.
And he saw, too, that a small boat was moored at the base of the rock. He glanced at Christian.
“My cousin left one of the boats,” she said. “There were three that he and his men used to come back and forth. I’ve been wondering if he means to spend another night here. But he must know the English garrison is here now.”
