Tam stared down at his cousin. She was badly bruised and had obviously been roughly used. When he had seen the Frenchmen riding quickly out of the village he had gone right back to the tavern to confront his cousin again. Although he was angry that she might well have caused trouble for a good man and put his own life in danger, he had to wince in sympathy over how badly she had been beaten.
“Ye didnae heed my warning at all, did ye, lass?” he said.
“I didnae tell them about you, if that be what worries ye,” she muttered, her swelling lips making her slur her words.
“But ye told them about the mon, didnae ye? Vain bitch. The mon has a woman. ’Twas nay an insult for him to say nay to what ye offered.”
“And when has a mon having a woman e’er stopped them from having another?”
“Ye deal too much with the bad ones, lass. And this isnae just any woman the lad has. He has himself one of those Murray lasses I have told ye about. Did ye e’en get paid for betraying a mon who ne’er did ye harm?” He cursed when she just glared at him through her one unswollen eye.
“I didnae intend to tell them.”
“Then how did they ken ye had anything of worth to tell?”
“He asked about the mon and I think I did something to let him see that I kenned something.” She eased herself up on her small, rough bed until she was sitting, and accepted the tankard of ale Tam held out to her. “Next I kenned I was escorted up here thinking he wanted a tumble and got this instead. So, aye, once the fists started landing on me I told him about the mon. But I ne’er told them about ye and what ye were to do for him.”
“Are ye certain?”
“Oh, aye, I am certain. Ye may be a pious bastard who cannae mind his own business, but ye are blood and I kenned verra quickly that if I told them about ye, ye would soon be dead.” She stared down at her hand, bruised badly by her vain attempts to defend herself. “Do ye think I have caused the deaths of that mon and his lady?”
“I dinnae ken.” He watched a tear roll slowly down her bruised cheek. “I only met the mon and talked to him for a wee while. But, he is a MacFingal, cousin to those red-haired devils the Camerons. If anyone can get away from those Frenchmen ’tis a mon like that. I am thinking that all ye did was make him have to work a wee bit harder at it.”
“Weel, mayhap I will drag myself to church and pray for them a wee bit.”
“I am thinking that might be a verra good thing to do.”
Chapter 9
Every bone in Arianna’s body was loudly complaining as they raced toward Dubheidland. She fought the urge to look behind them to see how close her enemy might be. At times her back itched as if it sensed a weapon aimed at it.
Just as she was about to give in to the urge to look behind her, Brian made an abrupt change in the direction they were traveling in. She was forced to keep her full attention on following him. It was a rocky, winding trail they now followed, one that severely slowed their pace, if only for fear of maiming their horses.
For a moment, panic choked her, as she grew certain they would soon be caught, but she forced the fear down. Brian moved as a man who knew the land well. The ones chasing them did not. This upward winding, treacherous trail might slow them down more than she liked but it would slow down the enemy at their heels even more.
“Your cousins dinnae want anyone to come visiting, do they?” she muttered as she struggled to guide her mount over the tortuous path, annoyed that she had none of the skill at it that Brian revealed.
Brian laughed softly. “Nay, they dinnae, but the more common route used to get to Dubheidland is a wee bit easier. This one is hard but shorter. A lot shorter. On the other side of this pile of rocks and heather the land is much easier to ride over. We shall have a straight, swift ride right to the gates of Dubheidland.”
“Straight and easy also means open, doesnae it?”
“It does, but we would have ridden onto open land even if we had gone the other way, too.”
“What if the others have learned to follow the other path, the easier one? Will they get ahead of us?”
“Nay. As I said, ’tis only a wee bit easier. Sigimor doesnae like to make any route to Dubheidland too easy. And, truly, this is much shorter. Dinnae fret, love. We will win the race.”