The Hands of Time (21 page)

We were to share a room
,
since Alec didn’t think I would be safe on my own.  I was the wife of a traitor now
,
and fair game to anyone who wanted to mete out justice.  I kicked off my shoes and fell on the bed in exhaustion.  Every muscle in my body ached
,
and the
baby kicked viciously
awake after being
lulled to sleep by the motion
of the ever moving carriage.  I was hungry, but didn’t have enough energy to go down to the dining r
oom.  Food would have to wait.
  It was too late to go anywhere tonight, so we would go to bed before trying to see Finlay in the morning. 

There was a knock at the door and a young girl entered carrying a tray laden with dishes.  I sat up
,
suddenly less tired. 

“Father sent up some supper for y
e
and y
e
r wife,
sir
” the girl explained, setting down the tray and making a brief curtsey before disappearing through the door again.  Alec lifted the lid of the pot
. 
“
O
yster stew,” he proclaimed
,
and began to spoon it out into the two bowls.  He must be famished, I thought, as I joined him at the table.  He’d barely eaten or slept since we left for London
,
and I was afraid for him.  He looked on the verge of collapse.  We ate in silence
, as
Alec eye
d
the bed.  “You take the bed
;
I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said
,
rising to take a pillow for himself. 

“I won’t hear of it.  This bed is big enough for both of us and you
’
re exhausted.  If you won’t sleep here, then I
’
ll sleep next to you on the floor.”  He saw that I meant it and smiled.

“All right.  I am too tired to lift a finger, much less make advances to my sister-in-law.”  With that he fell into bed and was asleep fully dressed
,
before I even took my corset off.  I climbed in next to him and pulled the coverlet over his sleeping form.  He looked ten years older than he did just a week ago
,
and I gently touched the healing cut on his cheek.  I knew that he
’d
tried defending
Finlay’s honor, but it was a lost cause.  There were broadsheets everywhere calling for the death of the traitors
,
and I knew that it wasn’t just Finn’s honor we had to worry about
.
  The thought of losing Finlay cut like a knife through my heart
,
and I lay awake for hours, shaking badly
,
and praying that his life would be spared.  Surely
,
there were degrees of guilt.  Maybe he was just an accomplice and not an actual perpetrator.  Maybe there was hope.
 

Chapter 3
6

Alec woke up at first light
desperate for a piss.  He looked over at Valerie
,
and his heart turned over.  She looked so pale and
drawn;
dark smudges visible under her eyes.  She was
terrified
,
and it was all his fault.  He could have played down the threat to Finlay the night he came back from Plymouth, but he decided not to.  For one thing he wasn’t thinking straight after getting into a tavern brawl
;
for another, he just needed to share his grief with someone.
  People who had known his brother for years were calling him a traitor and a whoreson
,
eager
for his death.  He had no choice but to respond to the provocation
,
and it actually felt good to feel his
knuckles
crunching against someone’s nose
,
or seeing blood spurt from a busted lip. 
He didn’t care if he got
hurt;
i
t relieved some of his fear and anger, but not for long. 

Once he finally managed to extricate himself from the fight and head for home, all the tension of the past few hours returned tenfold, making his heart race and his blood boil.    A part of him wanted to beat Finn senseless for getting embroiled in the scheme
,
and the other part wanted just get to him and hold him close, protecting him from what was to come.  If the gossip
was accurate
, the conspirators had been betrayed, their names
sent
to the authorities
with the details of the plot
in an anonymous letter.  Finlay’s name had apparently been on it
,
and he was arrested along with the others.  Regardless of who came
up with the plot, they were all guilty and would be dealt with to the full extent of the law, which was too horrible to contemplate. 

Alec knew perfectly well what happened to traitors
,
and his chest constricted, making it difficult to
breathe
,
when he thought of what might be awaiting his hapless brother. 
There was absolutely no chance of a pardon
,
it all coming
down to the actual death. 
If he was very lucky
,
he would be beheaded or
hanged
, if not, he would suffer the ultimate
penalty
for treason.  Drawing and quartering was reserved for High Treason
,
and regicide definitely fell into that category. 

The condemned would be hanged by the neck until he was almost dead
,
then cut down and revived
,
to the cheers of the bloodthirsty crowd.  The second step would not commence until the
poor sod
was fully conscious once more
,
and aware of what was happening.  He would be laid out on a table, where he would be disemboweled and his manhood
severed
,
his entrails and cock thrown on the fire before his eyes. 

If the
victim
did not die of shock by then, he would be beheaded and his body chopped into four parts, which
would
be displayed around town as a warning to would
-
be traitors. 
The thought of his brother suffering such a gruesome death made Alec ill
,
and he held on to the wall, his knees buckling under him
. 
He looked to see if he
had woken
Valerie, but she was still asleep
,
and he was at least grateful for that.  She needed her rest.

Alec wished he could have left Valerie at home, but she
had
to come. 
He
did not
feel safe leaving her alone
with only John Dobbs for protection
,
and this might be her
only chance to say goodbye. 
Seeing Finlay would be
difficult
, especially if he had been beaten or tortured, but
not seeing him would be even worse.  He hoped that she wouldn’t lose the baby from shock, but
it was
a chance he had to take.  Finn would want to see her one last time and he owed his brother that much. 

Valerie began to stir
, so
he composed his features into a
semblance
of calm.  It would not do to let her see how scared and helpless he felt.  She needed him to be strong right now
,
and he would do whatever it took to get her through this.  He would fall apart later, when no one was watching.

Chapter 3
7

Finlay sp
a
t the lo
o
se tooth
from
his mouth
,
tasting the blood on his lips.  He faced his
tormentor
,
daring him to hit him again.  He had been arrested just as he was leaving town on the morning on November 5
th
.  The plan had been foiled
;
someone had betrayed them.  He heard that Guy Fawkes was found in the cellar guarding the thirty-six kegs of
gunpowder
meant to detonate later that day
,
and
had been arrested and taken to the Tower as well, but he
had not
seen him.  He hadn’t seen anyone.  He had been taken down to the chambers
below
the Tower used for questioning
,
and been there since
. 

That was a funny word
,
he thought.  No one really questioned him.  They tortured him for information
,
starting with a simple flogging which left his back bloodied and torn to shreds
, then
proceeding
to more creative methods. 
Tomorrow they would probably put him on the rack.  The thought of being stretched on the rack made his guts constrict with fear, but he tried to keep it at bay. 
He had nothing to tell them.  He knew nothing.  His part in the plot had been to secure two kegs of powder, which he did
,
delivering them
to a designated spot.  He knew nothing more.
  He didn’t even have all the names.  He only knew a few people with whom he dealt directly. 

Finlay closed his eyes as a bucket of ice water crashed over his head.  He deserved everything he got and more.  He had destroyed everything.  There was no way of
getting out of this
,
and he knew that he wasn’t the only one going down.  Alec would be affected as well, being the brother of a traitor, not to mention Valerie.  The thought of Valerie brought tears to his eyes, but he didn’t have to much time to feel sentimental
,
since
a sledgehammer came down on his knee blocking out all coherent thought. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been out.  There was no window in the cell, so he had no concept of the passage of time.  His torturer was still there, eating
something
out of
a
wooden bowl and enjoying a mug of ale.  The thought of food made Finn sick
,
and he turned his head
,
vomiting
on the floor.  That earned him a kick in the face from the side-kick
,
and he sp
a
t out more blood along with the vomit.  He had a brief respite while the oaf finished his food
,
and then it was back to the questioning.
 

“Names of other conspirators,” the man said.   

“I don’t know,” he spat out, knowing what was to come.

“Hold him down, Bill,” the man said
,
as a hammer crushed the knuckles of his left hand one by one. 
Finlay
was grateful for the darkness that enveloped him, hoping not to return to the light. 

Chapter 3
8

It took several days for Alec to find a guard who was desperate enough to take his money.  All the others had turned him away, telling him they were under strict orders not to allow anyone to see the prisoner on pain of severe punishment.  No money was worth it.  They all treated Alec with contempt
,
knowing that his brother tried to murder the King.  Most of them secretly despised James, but a
m
onarch was a
m
onarch
,
and you didn’t just walk into Parliament and blow him up.  Some of them had a grudging respect for the plotters, but they had to keep it to themselves for fear of being thought sympathetic to their cause.  These days a man had to keep his head down if he hoped to
survive and prosper. 

The turnkey, Kerns, did his rounds at night
,
and took a lesser risk than the others.  He would admit Alec after midnight, locking him in the cell with his brother for a few minutes
,
before escorting him back outside.  He had asked for an exorbitant sum of money
, but
Alec paid him without haggling,
desperate
to see Finn.  It was half now, half after
,
so the man
would not
change his mind. 
Kearns was only too happy to inform Alec that his brother had been tortured for days
,
and lay broken and nearly mad with pain in his cell, awaiting his farce of a trial.