“And then I shall see Michel and Adelar again. I hope they are nay causing trouble for your kin.”
“Nay, and e’en if they do get into mischief, there are plenty about to get them out of it. They cannae do anything worse than what we have all done at least once.”
Arianna smiled and ate her food with as much delicacy as she could when what she really wanted to do was shovel it into her mouth as fast as possible. She was eager to begin the journey to Scarglas. She felt a pang of guilt for being so eager to leave the Camerons for they had been kind to her, welcoming her into their keep despite the trouble she had brought to their door. Her need to see Michel and Adelar could not be subdued, however. Not even her fear of riding away from the safety of Dubheidland could dim it. It had been much too long and she needed to see that Adelar and Michel were safe with her own eyes.
It troubled her that fear crept into her heart and mind every time she thought of continuing their journey. She did not like to think she was such a coward. Reminding herself that Amiel had lost another two men and was wounded only helped to ease her fear a little. If she did not have such a need to see her boys again she doubted she would get back on a horse and ride away from the safety of these walls.
“I will get ye safely to Scarglas,” Brian said quietly, and patted her hand. “Ye dinnae need to be afraid.”
“I ken it. That fear ye glimpse has no logic to it.” She shrugged. “It willnae stop me, either.”
“Aye, I ken it. ’Tis why I decided it would be a waste of time to chain you to that fine bed we have been sharing.” He patted her on the back when she choked on the cider she had been drinking. “There is something I should warn ye about. My fither is a wee bit odd.” He ignored Sigimor’s laughter.
“Ye already warned me some. Dinnae worry. A wee bit touch of oddness doesnae frighten me.”
Brian prayed that was the truth. His family, especially his father, was a little more than odd. He said nothing, however. He did not wish to worry her too much about what she might find at Scarglas. Telling her any more might have her wanting to grab the boys and flee before they even rode through the gates of his home.
His mind was still fixed on how much to tell her about his family and Scarglas when they stopped to camp for the night. They had traveled a lot farther than he had thought they would be able to and with no sign of trouble. If they did as well the next day they could reach Scarglas before nightfall. Arianna looked a little pale but did not move as if she was in a lot of pain.
After she had walked around for a few minutes to ease any stiffness from the long ride, he made her sit down and tended to the horses himself. Brian then brought the blankets to her, urging her to sit on them to keep away the chill of the ground. He watched her closely as he unpacked some of the food they had brought with them from Dubheidland.
“Ye are coddling me,” she said with a smile as he handed her some bread, cheese, and cold venison.
“A wee bit,” he admitted as he built a fire to warm them. “We traveled a goodly number of miles today.”
“Aye, we did, but I dinnae ache much. Weel, nay much more than I would have anyway after such a long day in the saddle.”
“Good. If we can do as weel on the morrow, we should be riding into Scarglas ere night falls or early the verra next morning at the latest.”
She nodded, fixing her attention on her food to hide how relieved she was to hear that. Her body was one huge throb of pain, not so severe that she could not hide it, but bad enough that she wished she could soak in a hot bath for a few hours and then curl up in a soft bed. Arianna was not looking forward to sleeping on the ground and then spending another full day riding.
“There has been no sign of Amiel and his men,” she said, hoping that talking would keep her mind off her own misery.
“Sigimor and his men will keep them too busy to trouble us. May e’en cull their number a wee bit more.”
“So much death.” Arianna shook her head. “For what?”
“Greed. It can drive a mon to madness, love. Unless one of our enemies decides to tell us every wee, twisted plot he has hatched in his mind ere he dies, I doubt we will e’er understand.” He took a deep drink of cider from his wineskin and then handed it to her. “Does it matter?” he asked as she drank.
“Nay.” She handed the wineskin back to him. “’Tis just curiosity. There is something I dinnae ken about it all and it picks at me. Claud’s death can be easily explained. He was the heir and Amiel wanted to be the heir. Simple. Clear. Yet why kill Marie Anne? Why kill the boys?”
“Why kill you?”