Iliana closed her eyes at that. Had Greenweld’s man not known of the passage, Angus’s offer might have held sway, but he did. Death was not his only option. She was not surprised when he gave a dry, breathless laugh and merely pulled her back into the room, cautiously backing toward the passage. Angus followed. Both he and her mother noticed the passage a moment later.

“Nay!” she cried, hurrying into the room. “Take me. It is me Greenweld wants. Take me.”

Her captor stopped at once and Iliana felt his indecision. “Get her out of here!” she yelled at Janna. “Tie her up if you have to, but do not let her go.”

Janna’s eyes widened; then she nodded with determination. She and Lady Wildwood were of a size, but the Scot was stronger from years of heavy work. She had no problem removing Iliana’s struggling mother.

Once they were out of the room, Angus closed the door. “Let her go and fight like a man,” he demanded grimly, pulling his own sword from its sheath.

“Another time, old man,” Greenweld’s man muttered, backing toward the passage again. “Stay where you are or I’ll kill her.”

Expression grim, Angus stopped, turning his hard gaze to Iliana. “Don’t fret, lass. We’ll get ye back.”

Iliana just managed a nod before she was dragged into the dark passage and the stone door slammed closed.

They were entombed in cool, black silence. Iliana stood completely still, waiting for her eyes to adjust, even as her captor did. It took a few minutes before she realized that there was nothing to adjust to. There was no light anywhere. They must make this trip sightless or return. Her captor cursed quietly and relaxed his hold on her neck to drop his hand to her arm. When she heard the scrape of metal on stone, she guessed he was using his sword to measure the width of the passage in which they stood, and testing to see if the path held anything that they might stumble on. Apparently assured that the way was clear, he began to move, dragging Iliana behind him.

Rabbie burst into the room, Janna directly on his heels. Pausing to catch his breath now, he took in the grim expression on his laird’s face and the way he glared at the wall beside the fireplace and frowned.

“I was told ye wished to see me, me laird?” he said at last, when Angus did not acknowledge their presence.

The Dunbar turned sharply at his words. He had been deep in thought and had not even heard them enter. “What are they doing?”

Rabbie’s eyebrows rose at the abrupt question. “Building another mangonel, I think, me laird. They are cutting trees and pounding away at something.”

Angus turned back to the wall. “They must still be in the tunnel then.”

Rabbie blinked in confusion at that. “The tunnel, me laird?”