Amanda Scott (16 page)

Michael glanced at Isobel, saw her eyes narrow, and said hastily, “I have no wish to hide anything from her ladyship. But nor will I make any claim to be a Templar. My grandfather had that honor, as his tombstone at Roslin Castle attests, and my father was a fine soldier, thanks to similar training. But I was only five when he died, scarcely old enough to benefit from his skills.”

Ian Dubh looked speculatively at him, but Michael had himself in hand again and met the look easily. He had said nothing that was untrue, and the exchange did not affect his promise to Isobel.

Isobel looked from Michael to Ian Dubh and back again. Clearly, the older man did not believe Michael, but Michael seemed sincere. She had heard of the Knights Templar, because both Lady Euphemia and Ian Dubh had occasionally spoken of them in describing historical events, but she knew little about them.

Ian Dubh took a seat on the other side of the table from them and gazed thoughtfully at Michael before saying, “You may disclaim the connection, lad, but I believe the information you seek lies in the history of the Order.”

“But the Pope declared the Knights heretics, ordered their arrest, and disbanded the Order more than seventy years ago,” Michael said.

“Those arrests took place primarily in France, at the order of King Philippe le Bel,” Ian Dubh said. “He’d already done away with two popes and controlled a third, but he did not control the Knights Templar. He owed them a vast amount of money that he did not want to repay, which is why he sought to control the papacy.”

Michael said, “With respect, sir—”

But Ian Dubh went on firmly, “The Order was never dissolved in Scotland because the papal bulls dissolving it were never proclaimed here. Even if they had been, how much sway do you think the Bishop of Rome commanded here, especially since he had excommunicated Robert the Bruce the year before?”

“Probably none,” Michael said, “but we have little time for history lessons if Lady Isobel and I are to marry before we head north, sir, and my enemies are lying in wait for us even now. With respect, what is it that you believe they seek?”

“They seek the treasure, of course,” Ian Dubh said.

Isobel gasped. “What treasure?”

“Besides being the best soldiers ever known, the Templars also provided the world’s largest banking organization,” Ian Dubh explained. “Men could deposit funds with them in Scotland or England, and with no more than a letter, could draw equivalent funds from the Order in countries as far away as the Holy Land. Thus, they did not have to carry their riches with them. The Templars could provide such a service because their temples and preceptories safeguarded much of the world’s wealth as well as the Order’s own wealth, amassed throughout its history.”

“But if they were heretics . . .” She glanced uncertainly at Michael, knowing that she spoke not just about Templars in general now but also his grandfather.

Ian Dubh said, “’Twas not their heresy that undid them, lass, if such heresy ever existed. ’Twas the huge loans they made to world rulers, men such as Philip of France, who did not want to repay them. At the time of the Templars’ downfall, Philip controlled Pope Clement as completely as if His Holiness had been a puppet rather than a man. The moment he received word that Clement would cooperate, Philip ordered the arrest of all Knights Templar in France and sent his men to seize their Paris treasury. But the treasure had vanished, along with most of the French Templars. Their great fleet at La Rochelle had vanished, as well.”

“Where did they go?”

He smiled. “Most would say that no one knows.”

“You will not say that, however,” she said confidently.

“I cannot say that I
know
more than that,” he said. “But I can tell you that when I was very young, my father was constable of Tarbert Castle, and late one dark, mist-filled night when I was supposed to be in bed, I saw a number of strange ships moving so silently on the loch that they looked like ghosts, because towboats pulled them. I learned that my father knew of their presence, and therefore I believed that I would learn more myself, but when the sun arose the next morning those ships had vanished, and my father not only denied knowledge of their presence but punished me for having slipped out during the night without permission.”

“But where could they have gone?”

“Sakes, they could have gone anywhere, but you will perhaps recall that, for years, I’ve studied documents pertaining to matters from Robert the Bruce’s time.”

“Aye, of course,” she said.

Turning to Michael, he said, “I’ll show you some of those documents. They provide only vague references to the Paris treasury but suggest that your grandfather assumed its guardianship and arranged for its transport to Scotland with the permission of his grace’s father, Angus Og. Angus Og had won fealty from many Isles clans by then, particularly south of the Isle of Skye. Little occurred in these waters that he did not learn about as quickly as Lachlan Lubanach’s vast network of informants collects information now for his grace. He would certainly have known of any strangers’ ships, especially since the most likely route for them to have taken to Loch Tarbert would have taken them first through the Sound of Isla, near Angus Og’s primary seat at Finlaggan. Had those ships not been welcome, he would have dealt with them before ever they reached Loch Tarbert.”

“And such an incident would be widely known now, in bards’ tales and the like, so he must have welcomed them and kept it quiet,” Michael said thoughtfully.

“Aye, and Robert the Bruce welcomed military aid from Scottish Templars, including members of your family. No Scottish Templar was ever executed or imprisoned, because Bruce, being excommunicate, had no reason to comply with orders from Rome, if such orders were even issued to excommunicates.”

Isobel had been thinking about the Templar treasury. “Much of the world’s wealth, sir? Could even a fleet of ships have carried so much?”

“Their fleet was said to be enormous, lass. Documents show that at least eighteen were at La Rochelle, whilst many others were going about their business elsewhere and did not return.”

“But where could they all have gone?” she asked.

“Templar ships provided transport for many goods that the people of the Isles export, particularly for our petrol oil, which has for years been used throughout Britain, Europe, and elsewhere as sacred oil in the kirks. Ships that provide that transport now are often St. Clair ships,” he added with a pointed look at Michael.

“But why would the Templars bring such a treasure to the Isles?” she asked Michael. “Was your grandfather an Islesman?”

“Nay, he lived at Roslin Castle, in Lothian, ten miles south of Edinburgh.”

“True,” Ian Dubh said. “But recall that at the time the English controlled Scotland from Edinburgh south. Bruce had not yet vanquished them, so it would have been safer to hide the treasure here in the Isles then and move it inland later.”

Michael sighed. “But I’m guessing from what you’ve said that your documents say naught of where they hid it or where it might be now.”

“Nay, but what about your own? Every noble family possesses muniments, documentation of titles, grants of land, and so forth. Have you examined yours?”

Michael nodded. “Henry and I have read everything we could find at Roslin. In truth, not much is there beyond the grant for the castle, documents pertaining to the barony, my mother’s marriage settlements, and a few decisions of the baron’s court. Henry is also Baron of Roslin,” he added in an aside to Isobel. “My title, Master of Roslin, is merely a styling that will redound to Henry’s son when he has one.”

“For that matter,” Ian Dubh said with a smile, “your title will change when Henry officially becomes Earl of Orkney, as he’ll be known here. As I understand it, that was part of the arrangement Henry made with the King of Scots.”

Michael nodded.

“What sort of arrangement was that?” Isobel asked.

Michael remained silent, but Ian Dubh said, “Sir Henry will retain many of the privileges that accompany a princedom, lass. For example, he will be able to issue his own coins and exercise judicial authority within his realm. Sir Michael, as his brother and a potential heir, will be known as Lord Michael St. Clair of Roslin.”

“That is not important, however, because Henry will soon produce his own heirs, and I have no wish to be a prince or Earl of Orkney,” Michael said.

“You are wise, lad, for such titles come with more responsibility than one might suppose,” Ian Dubh said. “Moreover, there were other claimants to the princedom, and the Norse King demanded a promise of loyalty to himself, not to mention payment of an amount that is far more than most men possess.”

“The princedom is Henry’s concern,” Michael said. “Mine appears to be this supposed treasure. Can you tell me more about it, sir? Of what does it consist?”

“I don’t know,” Ian Dubh admitted. “I can tell you only that any number of Islesmen must have known about the ships that carried it here, if not more about the treasure itself. That no one speaks of it now is testament to the influence that both Angus Og and Bruce had, and to the loyalty that Islesmen extend now to his grace. If you like, you may come to my chamber and have a look at those documents. I have made fair copies of several, which I will give to you, but I warrant your best hope of discovering the whole truth lies at Roslin. I doubt you’d find anything in Caithness, since that property came to your family through your mother.”

Michael turned to Isobel. “Do you want to see the documents, lass?”

She shook her head, unexpectedly overwhelmed by all she had learned. Ian Dubh’s explanation of Michael’s position revealed that she had not perfectly understood it before. The plain fact that he was brother to a man who would become a Norse prince had meant little to her. Even learning of his brother’s wealth had not fazed her, because a man’s wealth did not necessarily mean that his siblings were likewise wealthy. Moreover, never having felt its lack, she had little interest in money. But to learn that Michael was potentially heir to that princedom and that his children might likewise inherit it, however small that chance might be, was another matter entirely, and one that she needed to think about with great care.

She knew that she ought to tell him at once of her concern, but he and Ian Dubh were discussing the latter’s documents in greater detail, and she did not want to interrupt, especially to discuss the subject now foremost in her mind.

“If you will excuse me,” she said, standing, only half aware that she had inadvertently interrupted Ian Dubh midsentence, “I will bid you both a good night, because tomorrow looks as if it will be a long and perhaps difficult day.”

Both men stood when she did, and Michael said, “I’ll escort you to your chamber, my lady, before I meet Ian Dubh in his.”

“Pray do not trouble yourself, sir,” she said. “I share a room with my aunt when we visit Duart, and I know my way.”

“Nevertheless, I will escort you,” he said firmly. Turning to Ian Dubh, he said, “I can easily find someone to direct me to your chamber, sir, so I shan’t keep you waiting long.”

“I’m a patient man,” Ian Dubh said. Then, giving Isobel a measuring look, he added, “Sleep well, lassie. If Lachlan has taken over the arrangements for your wedding, I warrant it will take place soon after you wake in the morning.”

“Aye, sir,” she said, making a brief curtsy, afraid suddenly that if she tried to say more, she might cry.

As Michael reached for her hand and tucked it firmly into the crook of his arm, it occurred to her to wonder when, exactly, he had changed from the man who so amiably followed her lead to one who seemed determined now to ignore it. But she remained silent as they made their way to the main stairs.

After the first flight, the spiral stairway narrowed and she went ahead. But when they arrived at the chamber she shared with Lady Euphemia and she reached for the latch, he stopped her by catching her hand and drawing it back.

“Wait, lass,” he said quietly. “I would know what has disturbed you so.”

“Ian Dubh awaits you, sir, and we should not stand here talking where my aunt may hear us.”

“Ian Dubh will wait, and we can hear Lady Euphemia snoring. What is it?”

“Nothing of consequence,” she said, feeling guilty as the words tripped glibly from her tongue but feeling, for once, utterly incapable of explaining herself in a way that would make sense to him without betraying her family.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment in the way that made her most uncomfortable. Then, as she felt heat creeping into her cheeks, he said, “You might like to think up a different answer, sweetheart, one that I am more likely to believe.”

Much as she wished she could elude his stern gaze, she could not seem to do so, but neither could she blurt out the truth to him, not the whole truth, certainly.

He seemed content to hold her gaze, to make her squirm in her guilt as he had done earlier that day, until at last she said, “This marriage is happening too fast, that’s all. I’m thinking we should wait longer, not marry so quickly. It cannot matter if we wait. It is not as if we will be traveling alone together again, because if Hector and Lachlan have their way, they’ll surround us with protectors of all sorts, a vast flotilla of galleys full of oarsmen and family. Moreover, sir, you don’t even want to marry me. You know you don’t. You feel as constrained to do so as I do, myself.”

His fingers on her shoulders found the earlier bruises, making her wince. Immediately, his grip eased, but he did not take his hands away as he said, “That answer is no better than the first, lass. We are going to be married just as soon as a priest presents himself to say the words. So unless you can give me truly good cause, I will not call it off, nor help you to do so. We need to make speed, Isobel. Henry himself may be in danger.”

“How could he be? Surely, he has surrounded himself with protectors.”

“Aye, but they will make little difference to Waldron.”

“Waldron waits at the other end of the Sound,” she reminded him. “He is no threat to anyone else whilst he stays there, not when Lachlan knows he is there.”