Without a word, Lara turned and ran out the door. Running past the guard and up the flight of stairs, she ran into John and Bram, who were sitting on the top step drinking a tankard of ale. Noticing her distress, Bram quickly stood and wrapped his arms around her before sitting down next to her on the top step.
“I heard what happened to yer father. Are ye alright?”
Lara said nothing, but shook her head. She was anything but alright. He was he only thing in her life that was real.
“I swear to ye, I dinna ken,” John said, lifting her chin to look at him. “How,for all this time, did he and mother keep that secret from us?”
“I dinna ken. Oh, Brother, it was all our father’s doing. He lied to everyone. The King has sentenced him to death.”
“I should have known. I am sorry, Lara. I should have protected you better. I should have been a better brother. He committed many crimes, and he deserves what is coming to him. His greed almost destroyed everything. He is a vicious mon, Lara. Do no’ pity him.”
“The treasure!” Lara exclaimed, and backed out of Bram’s embrace.
“What?” John curiously asked.
Suddenly, Lara began to pace back and forth murmuring to herself.
“It all makes sense. There was ne’er any treasure. Dinna ye see? It was me, all along. I am the treasure he received from the Norse King. It was me! That is why nay one had ever seen it. It was right before their eyes.”
Bram looked at Lara thoughtfully. Perhaps there was justice in the world. The treasure was not a chest of gold, as Dermot had believed. It was something more precious than any amount of coin or jewels. It was a beautiful, black-haired bairn with sterling grey eyes, the heiress to the Norwegian throne. Dermot had held the treasure, had unknowingly thrown it away, and then had died trying to get it back, still not realizing the truth of what he sought.
John’s face turned grim. “I want to see him.”
“Ye cannae see him. The king had him escorted to the dungeon. He said that father… William… was to hang by sunset tomorrow,” Lara cried out.
“Then I will ask the king myself,” John said, as he stood and began walking down the hall.
Lara ran to his side.
“What about yer coronation?”
“It will have to wait.”
“I would like to join ye,” she asked.
“Are ye sure ye want to do that, lass?” Bram asked.
“Aye. I must do this. I need to do this,” she responded.
The three of them walked down to the library. The door was open and there was no guard in sight. Inside, Eric was sitting at his desk, with Queen Isobel by his side. He looked up when John stepped inside the wooden door frame.
“Yes?” Eric said looking back and forth between them.
“Yer majesty. I wish to see my father. I want to hear from his own lips what he has done, to me, to my sister,” John asked in a sincere tone.
“Please,” Lara asked, stepping within view of the king.
Eric’s heart softened looking into Lara’s eyes. She looked so much like her mother. It had been almost ten years since his wife Margaret had passed. The good Lord had taken her the day their daughter Maid Margaret was born. Eric had thought that when the Lord took Maid Margaret home with him to heaven that the Lord was punishing him. He’d repented his sins every sermon, once a week during the holy day, though he feared God could not hear him. But now, here, standing in front of him, was proof that the Lord had listened to his prayers. No longer did he feel like Job, as the priest had taught him.
“I will grant you permission, but the visit will be supervised, and you will no’ go alone.”
John bowed. “Thank ye.”
Looking back at Lara, he said, “Had I known, I would have…” but Lara stopped him before he could finish.
“I know ye would have.”
Offering him a sincere smile, he sat up and hugged Lara in a warm fatherly embrace. Even though she had only known him for one day, she knew that he loved her as much as a father could ever love a daughter. As for William, the man who’d raised her and her brother John, she did not know what was to come of him as his fate rested in the king’s hands.
“My Lord, I hope you still consider accepting John as yer vassal. He is a good man, and will make a great king. Do no’ punish him fer our… I mean, fer his father’s doings.”
“As you are my daughter, I will consider your request.”
As Lara and John walked out into the hallway, Eric clenched his fists so tightly that he could have broken the bones of his fingers. With built up anger, he punched the stone wall behind his desk. He felt as if he could destroy everything in the room. Isobel cautiously stepped towards him.
“When I first saw her, I knew. She looks so much like you and Margaret.”
Eric turned away from her. He could not bear to be reminded of the truth. How could he have a daughter of ten and seven? How could he have been so foolish in trusting William? The man he befriended. The man he trusted. The man deserved to die for what he had done.
“Go to her, Eric. You must speak to her.”
“She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t even know who she is,” he snapped.
“Give her time, Eric. She has been through much, and it will take time for her heart to heal. But you can start with today. Go to her,” Isobel encouraged him.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Isobel gave him a soft smile, and gently pressed her hand to his shoulder.
“You have given the greatest of speeches before battle to your men, inspired your men to follow you. I am sure that when the time comes, you will know what to say. Say what is in your heart, my love, for no truer words can be spoken.”
Chapter 23
Standing at the dungeon door gave Lara shivers down her spine. Haunting memories of a dark cell she had once endured caused the tiny hairs on her arm to stand on end. She would demand that William speak the truth and she would show him no mercy and have no pity for him.
John pushed his way into the dungeon and rushed over to the bars that imprisoned his father.
“Ye traitor,” John said, and spit into the man’s face.
William lowered his head, but kept his eyes firmly on John. Wiping the spit off his face, he replied in a cold tone, “I did it fer ye, ye eejit, ye fool. Ye would have been nothing if it were no fer me. I gave ye everything.”
“I never wanted it,” John growled.
Lara stepped up to the bars next to John. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but she already knew the answers. She looked into his heartless eyes. They held no emotion, no regret, no sadness, and no fear. It was then that she knew he’d never loved her. Lara met his gaze, and for several long moments just stared at the bastard, silent and motionless. He was not worth the wrath of her words, nor did he deserve the dignity of explaining himself. She wanted him to know that from this day forth she would never think of him again. She would not mourn his death or pray for his soul. Souls like his did not belong in the glory of heaven. Lara turned and walked back out the door of the dungeon and back into the hallway.
“’Twas a brave thing ye done, lass,” Bram said, walking up behind her.
“I am just glad that it is over.”
Bram placed his hands against Lara’s cheeks. As he bent down to kiss her John interrupted them.
“Well, if ye two are quite finished, we have a coronation to attend, aye?” John boasted.
Lara and Bram laughed at his enthusiasm.