Page 95 of The Falcon Laird

She stood, facing him, protecting her daughter behind her skirts. “It is gone. You will not have it.”

“You know something,” he growled. “Women connive and lie. Where have you put it?”

She raised her chin. “I burned it. It is melted into the very walls. You will not have it. England will not have it.”

“Neither will Scotland.” Hastings drew his hand back and slapped her, hard enough that she stumbled. Gavin leaped forward with a guttural curse, straining against the guards who held him back.

“I promise you will die for that blow,” Gavin said between clenched teeth.

Hastings spun, eyes narrowed. “One blow to a woman is naught. Edward himself would applaud what I do here. I have revealed a traitor, a lover of Scots, among his finest knights.”

“You go too far, Hastings. You always did,” Gavin said.

“Too far? Where the Scots are concerned, that cannot be.”

“I should have hunted you down years ago when I heard that you had burned that nunnery in the Borderlands. Edward assured me that you had been severely punished. I could not leave France at the time. And I never thought to see you again.”

Hastings shrugged. “That nunnery? It was years ago, a necessary raid. But the Pope ordered me to make a penance for it. And Edward took my newest holding at the time. That debt has already been paid.”

“Not in full,” Gavin growled.

Hastings turned and spoke to the guards. “Confine them in here. Then come into the courtyard. The southeast tower must be searched next.” The guards bound Gavin’s hands behind him and turned away to bind Christian.

“I will tear down every stone in this castle if I must to find that gold,” Hastings said.

“Then you will discover what an enemy truly is,” Gavin said low. “Nothing will keep me from you.”

“You shall hang for your crimes.” Hastings turned away.

“I doubt even death could stop me,” Gavin said softly.

Hastings glanced nervously at him. Then he stepped through the doorway.

Gavin trained his unwavering gaze on Hastings. Hatred rose in him like bile, summoned up from some dark corner of his soul. He had never truly hated anyone but this one man. He felt as if he had dipped a cup into the same venomous brew from which Hastings drank. And he found the deep, black anger there surprisingly potent.

The last of the guards filed out, taking the torch with him. The chamber was suddenly plunged into profound darkness. Gavin heard a massive bar sliding into place.

“I’m hungry,” Robbiesaid. Gavin could hear him shifting around. “And my backside hurts from sitting on this stone floor.”

“Mine too,” Patrick complained. “It’s gone flat.”

“Aye, me too,” Will said. “Hungry, I mean. Is it time for breakfast yet?”

“Not for hours yet,” Christian said, seated beside Gavin. He felt the press of her shoulder against him, but could see nothing in the darkness. “There’s food in those barrels over there, if we could but get to it.”

“I do not like the dark,” Michaelmas said. “Patrick said that water monsters could climb in here from the loch.”

There was a sliding sound, and a thump. “Here it comes,” Patrick said with glee. Gavin heard Robbie and Will make the same noises. He shook his head, smiling to himself.

“Ach, stop teasing the wee lass,” John grumbled through the darkness. “You lads are enjoying this too much.”

“I’m not, I’m thirsty,” Will said. “There is wine over there in those barrels.”

“Good French stuff, and ye’ll not have a drop,” Dominy said.

“I’m thirsty too,” Michaelmas said. She was beginning to sound tearful.

“We’ll all have a drink when we get out of here,” Gavin said. He leaned over to murmur to John. “The guards neglected tofind the dagger sheathed at the back of my belt. If you could pull it loose, uncle, I would appreciate it.”