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    Chapter 7
    Frigid late autumn air blew through the forest, finding its way through the old stable’s ancient, crumbling walls. Once it had been a handsome building, regularly housing the fine steeds of Langthorne lords during hunting trips, but as the conflict escalated along the north English border Lord Gundy abandoned the isolated lodge making it the perfect location for Hadran to launch Gundy’s plan.
    The once-pristine stalls now stank of damp, moldy wood. Piles of rotting hay carried traces of ancient manure. Uncountable spiders lived among the filth, covering nearly every surface with thick white webs. Owen had kept busy hunting in the surrounding area and several carcasses were scattered around the stable to prove his skill. In one corner a space had been cleared for Owen to camp. It was a small victory of order against the decaying structure.
    It was late in the afternoon when Verena was finally able to sneak out of the cottage without being detected. Hadran had just returned from Langthorne castle and was anxious to hear of her progress. They stood close together in the clean area next to Owen’s pallet, careful not to touch the walls or hay.
    The failing daylight cast eerie shadows on the walls, but the three conspirators dared not light a candle. The burning smell, the light, or their voices could easily carry back to their sleeping prisoner. If Cairn McPherson suspected Verena met with the other men their plan would be ruined.
    "He told me his name," Verena announced in a whisper.
    "Then he is starting to trust you," Hadran said.
    "He trusts me enough to tell me his name."
    "The McPherson is an intelligent man," said Hadran. "It takes cunning and skill to gain his reputation on a battlefield. You are a beautiful woman, Verena, and the Scot’s illness has weakened him, but it is only a matter of time before he begins to question his good fortune, if he does not already. Do not press him too hard."
    "I agree." Owen flicked a large spider from his shoulder then crushed it beneath his boot. "We would know this rescue was too easy."
    "Make no sexual overtures," Hadran advised. "Not yet. He is attracted because he is a man, but if you appear too interested he will immediately suspect you. Be friendly, but distant and very wary."
    "I know what I am doing."
    Verena didn’t mean to sound petulant, but she had been on countless assignments for Gundy. She knew how to seem intriguing, innocent and trustworthy. Six months ago she had talked her way into the French Queen Anne’s private chambers to purloin intimate letters from her lover. The two men’s concern was entirely unfounded.
    "Aye, girl," said Hadran, playfully tugging Verena’s long braid where it lay on her shoulder. It was his gruff, awkward way of showing affection. "If that Scot is not your devoted slave in a fortnight I’ll be shocked, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry for my best agent."
    "I don’t know about your best," Owen said grudgingly. He swung a punch at her shoulder. She twisted away, deftly blocking and trapping his fist with one hand and countering with a sharp punch to his gut.
    She remembered when they first met long ago. She had been nothing but a nuisance then, an orphan Hadran picked up off the street because he said she had potential. Owen seemed so much older and wiser to Verena even though he was only five years her senior. She looked up to him like a brother.
    "Aye," she exclaimed triumphantly as Owen pretended to gasp for breath. "The best! Besides, once Gundy’s soldiers are finished with him, the Scot will think I am his only friend."
    "I don’t know why you won’t let me do that," grumbled Owen, referring to the next stage of their plan. "I hate working with Gundy’s soldiers."
    "As do I," agreed Hadran. "But I will not needlessly risk you or my other agents. You are too valuable to me. I need you to watch Verena in Scotland and I cannot risk the McPherson recognizing you later."
    "Gundy’s men