The king stopped when he reached the center of the corridor and motioned for her to take the lead.
"It's in the corner," she said as she hurried past him. She kept her attention on the floor now. It was cluttered with decaying flats of wood and nails.
When she passed the last stall, she slowly turned to look in the corner, and then she cried out. There it was, Ector's knapsack, still hanging from the hook on the wall.
"Shall we see if the treasure is inside?" John whispered.
He moved forward with Gillian at his side and lifted the filthy knapsack from the hook, and shoving the rubble out of his way with the side of his foot, he knelt down on the floor.
The soldier, Horace, called out to him, "Is the treasure there, my lord?"
The king didn't answer. "Do you see how my hands are trembling?" he whispered to Gillian as he gently turned the knapsack over and let the contents pour out onto the floor. An old rusty, iron hinge spilled out first, and then stones of various shapes rolled out. A clump of dirt splattered, and a cracked wooden cup splintered in half when it struck the ground. The king shouted. A dirty piece of wool wrapped into a ball dropped onto his knees. As he unfolded the cloth, a man's tunic took shape, and when the last fold was turned over, the jewels atop the magnificent box glinted up at them.
Tears flooded John's eyes, and he was filled with memories of his sweet Arianna. Lost for the moment in the past, his head bowed, he mourned anew the death of his true love.
"My lord, is the treasure there?" Horace shouted again.
The king was too overwhelmed with emotion to notice the soldier's impertinence and insolent tone.
Brodick had noticed and was in the process of turning around so that his back was to his wife and the king when Horace gave the other soldiers a signal with his hand. His three cohorts quickly fanned out to form a half circle in front of Brodick. The only thing between them and the king of England was the Highlander, and fools that they were, they actually believed the odds were in their favor.
Brodick knew exactly what their plan was. His voice was low and filled with loathing when he said, "Your king is unarmed."
John, still down on his knees, looked up as the soldiers drew their swords. His eyes widened in disbelief, and for an instant he thought that the Highlander was in some way threatening him. Then he saw that Brodick's hands were still at his sides and his sword still sheathed. Where, then, lurked the threat that would make the soldiers draw their weapons?
Forgetting for the moment the treasure, John stood. "Where is the danger?" he demanded.
The soldiers remained silent.
"Gillian, tell your king his soldiers mean to kill him," Brodick said.
The leader of the soldiers smiled. "And we will be honored for our deed. Aye, we mean to kill you, John, and the Highlander and his wife as well." Nodding to Brodick, he added, "You'll be blamed of course."
John reached for his sword and only then realized he was defenseless.
"One shout from me and my men will come running."
Horace snickered. "You'll be dead before they get here."
Brodick shook his head. "I cannot allow you to kill your king because it would upset my wife, and you sure as hell aren't going to get near her. Have I made my intentions clear?"
They came at him all at once, and that error in judgment gave Brodick an added advantage. In their haste to get him, they stumbled into one another.
Moving with the speed of a predator, he became a blur to the men trying to kill him. They saw only the silver gleam of his sword and heard the whistling sound as the warrior swung it downward. His blade cut through two soldiers as he lashed out with his foot and broke the arm of another soldier, knocking him to the ground. He then arched back to avoid the last soldier's blade and, twisting, slammed his elbow into the man's face, shattering his jaw.
Gillian had grabbed hold of the king's arm and tried to pull him back out of harm's way, but John in a burst of true gallantry wouldn't retreat. He pushed her behind him and shielded her.
Before she could summon a good scream, two soldiers lay dead at Brodick's feet and the two others were doubled over in pain. Brodick wasn't even winded. He casually wiped his blade on one of the dead to rid it of English blood, then slipped the weapon back into the sheath and turned around. He couldn't hide his surprise at finding the king protecting his wife.
John was stunned. He stared at the traitors, then looked at Brodick. "Four against one," he hoarsely whispered. "Most impressive, Laird."
Brodick shrugged. "You've yet to see impressive."
A fire from a dropped torch crackled in the debris behind them as the king once again got down on his knees and gently lifted the treasure with both hands. Cautiously he pressed in sequence the hidden springs, and the box snapped open. For a long silent moment he simply stared down at what was inside.
And then a low guttural sound erupted from deep within his throat, a sound that grew into a tortured, monstrous roar that reverberated through the decay of years.
And the cry of anguish for what was lost became a howling fury.
The sound paralyzed Gillian, and it all became too much for her to bear, the heartache, the treachery, the deceit, the fear. She couldn't block the screams or the memories. And in her mind she was suddenly standing there at the top of those slippery steps in the dark passageway. The dragon was uncoiling from the wall with his long tail slashing out at her as she and Christen were hurled down into the black abyss. She was once again that terrified little girl, abandoned and all alone. She heard the anguished screams echoing around her and saw again her father looking up at her with such sorrow and regret in his eyes. He couldn't save her. She reached out…
And suddenly Brodick was there, standing in front of her, calling out to her.
"Gillian, look at me."
The tenderness in his voice and the touch of his hand against the side of her face cut through her terror, and with a sob, she fell into his arms.
"I want to go home," Gillian cried.
"Soon," he promised. "Now get behind me and stay there."
The harsh command jarred her, and she quickly did as he ordered, for she could hear the shouting soldiers running toward the stable. The smoke from the smoldering fire must have alerted them. The blaze behind her began to leap higher, and she knew that when the king's men raced inside and saw the dead soldiers, they would attack Brodick.
Turning to the king, she saw him wipe tears from his face and then snap the box closed. He wrapped the treasure in the tunic, stuffed it into the knapsack, and then staggered to his feet.
He, too, must have heard his soldiers coming because he moved to stand by Brodick. He raised his hand as his men closed in.
"Are these your men or his?" Brodick asked.
"Mine," the king answered.
His voice was deathly calm. "Come with me," he ordered Brodick, and then he left the stable.
Brodick dragged Gillian behind him, but when they reached the courtyard, he stopped and let out a shrill whistle. Dylan and Robert rode forward.
"Get her out of here," he ordered Dylan. "Robert, wait for Bridgid and take her with you."
She wasn't given time to argue. Dylan reached down, swept her up, and urged his stallion into a gallop.
"Let the Highlanders inside," John shouted to his soldiers, and then he motioned for Iain and Ramsey to follow Brodick and him inside.
Alford hadn't been idle while he had waited. He'd used the time to gather more of his soldiers, for there were at least a dozen standing together near the buttery. Brodick and Iain stood behind the king, but Ramsey spotted Bridgid sitting in the corner and immediately went to her. He grabbed her hand, jerked her to her feet, and without saying a word, pulled her along.