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Chapter 15
Fia hid in the shadows of the courtyard with Caitlin that evening, waiting for the opportunity to sneak into the dungeon to help Niven escape.
“Here comes Alastair,” whispered Caitlin.
Alastair emerged from the door that led to the dungeon, talking with Fearchar. Fia couldn’t hear what they said, but she saw Alastair rub his eye.
“He doesna even feel remorse that he put Niven in the dungeon,” spat Caitlin. “How can he be so heartless?”
“Perhaps we’re wrong,” said Fia.
“What do ye mean?”
“I mean, his words say he thinks Niven is guilty, but I am no’ so sure anymore. He rubbed his eye, so there is somethin’ he doesna want to see.”
“Hrmph,” sniffed Caitlin. “He probably doesna want to see how mean he is toward others.”
“Alastair doesna seem to want to hurt anyone intentionally,” Fia observed. “Still, he did condemn Niven to death, so mayhap I am wrong. Are ye sure ye can distract the guards so I can sneak in and talk to Niven?”
“Of course, I can. Just watch.”
As soon as Alastair left, Caitlin emerged from the shadows and went right up to the door leading to the dungeon. Fia watched as she talked to the guard, pointing up at something on the battlements. When the guard stepped out and walked over to look where she pointed, Caitlin gave Fia a quick nod of the head. This was her cue.
Fia hurried, sneaking through the dungeon door and down the stairs to the cells far below. It was dark and wet, and she almost slipped twice. One lone torch emerging from the wall cast enough light for her to see that all the cells were empty except one.
“Niven?” she whispered, seeing her breath in the cold air. She heard the sound of water dripping from overhead.
“Fia? What are ye doin’ here?” came Niven’s voice.
She ran to the cell, stopping in shock when she not only saw the door open but Niven inside gnawing on a roasted chicken leg with Cerberus sitting at his feet, begging. There were tapestries on the floor for warmth, a bed with a thick down blanket, and a feast spread out on the table that included stuffed rabbit, roasted chicken, honeyed mead and even sweetmeats.
“I think the question is . . . what are ye doin’?” She stepped into the cell looking around.
Cerberus hurried over to greet her.
“I – I’m a prisoner,” said Niven, throwing the chicken leg to the dog and wiping his hands on his plaid. He stepped in front of the table to try to hide the food.
“I’m no’ blind,” she spat. “What is goin’ on here? I am sure this isna the way Alastair treats his condemned prisoners that are to be executed in the mornin’.”
“Would ye believe it’s . . . a last meal?” he asked sheepishly, raising his brows.
“With the door open and the laird’s hound at yer feet? No’ likely. Now, tell me what is goin’ on.”
“Oh, all right,” he said, plopping down atop a wooden stool. “I’m no’ really a prisoner, but ye canna tell Alastair ye saw me or he will be furious.”
“I dinna understand. Why would ye two try to deceive everyone this way?”
Cerberus whined and hunkered down, wagging his tail and waiting for Niven to throw him another scrap of food. When he didn’t get anything, the dog started gnawing on the leg of the stool instead.
“I’m supposed to keep it a secret,” Niven explained. “Alastair thinks ye had somethin’ to do with the disappearance of the crown and he wants to flesh ye out.”
“He does, does he?” Fia crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
“Fia, did ye have somethin’ to do with the missin’ crown?” asked Niven. “Because I would hate to think ye did and didna say anythin’ and were goin’ to let me go to my death.”
Fia suddenly felt horrible. In trying to protect so many, she did something that might have ended in the death of an innocent man. Still, she couldn’t tell Niven. If she admitted she took the crown, she would have to include Lorraine and others in the story. That wouldn’t be right to endanger their lives when they already were at risk trying to help her.
“I wasna goin’ to let ye die,” she explained. “I came down here to set ye free.”
