He could tell himself that it was not technically a lie, but no matter how carefully constructed the words he knew they were still calculated to deceive and wrong.

Pembroke frowned. “I was told you met with the monk very late the night before you left. Why? Did he tell you something?”

“I thought to catch him unaware in the hope that he might admit something useful. But after questioning him for a while, I am convinced that he never met the person who left the message. The young monk was indeed only a courier.”

Another carefully constructed “truth.” Alex hid his self-disgust beneath Pembroke’s scrutiny. His commander gave him a hard look. “So you have learned nothing new?”

Alex shook his head. “Nothing helpful. I suspect the monk’s capture has forced the spy to go underground for a while.”

He hoped to hell that was the truth.

Pembroke considered him for a moment. “Perhaps you are right. But in any event, protective measures have been taken. The king is convinced that Bruce has somehow become privy to our shipping routes, as attacks have occurred with too much precision to be coincidence. He is furious and wants to ensure nothing else finds its way into enemy hands.”

Alex knew the inability to get provisions to the English garrisons in Scotland for the large army that Edward intended to send north could be a severe blow, affecting their battle plan. They would be forced to take all the supplies with them, which would slow them down and make the large army even more unwieldy. How had Margaret managed to get that kind of information? Could de Beaumont have been that careless to share such detailed information?

But it was what else Pembroke had said that he was focused on. “What kind of protective measures?” Alex asked.

The other man waved him off. “It isn’t your concern.”

Alex held his temper—barely. “How can it not be when it is my job to uncover the spy?”

“A job that you have failed,” Pembroke pointed out. “But you need not concern yourself with finding the spy any longer, I have another task for you.”

Alex’s teeth were grinding at the slight that was unfortunately warranted, but he managed to say, “My lord?”

“There is trouble brewing in East Lothian. The garrison commander at Hailes Castle is having some trouble with the local farmers, some of whom I believe are your tenants in Haddington.”

Alex was immediately on alert. “What kind of trouble?”

“The captain believes they are conspiring with the enemy to provide them food and other necessities.”

Alex bit back the curse that was about to follow, instead saying, “That is ridiculous. Bruce’s men raided that area not long ago in retribution for their supplying the garrison with grain. The same garrison that should have been protecting them,” he added pointedly.