“Connections all over.”
“Och, aye. Our families’ lassies have done us proud with their marriages. As have a fair number of the lads. We e’en keep a presence at the king’s court, and it has been clear that there are those who see our good fortune with a jealous eye and it can rouse some bad feelings. We send our smartest lads, sometimes our prettiest, too, but they are also the ones who can be diplomatic, even courteous, nay matter how badly he may wish to punch someone in the face.”
She laughed softly, thought briefly of pulling away, but decided she liked where she was. The strength she could feel in him and the warmth of him were both comforting. It was hard to imagine a family as vast as his sounded, the connections to other clans so various and, from the way he talked, strong and friendly. As for keeping a person in the king’s court to watch out for any possible enemies, it was difficult to imagine. Her parents had never appeared to even think of such things.
When he abruptly rode Jester into the midst of a clump of trees, she sat up and looked around. “What is it?” she asked as he draped the blankets over his horse to hide the white mane and tail.
“Someone comes.” He pointed at her bag to show her Freya sitting up and scowling at the road, her ears flattened and the fur on her back slightly bristled.
“My cousins?”
“I think it may be as the cat only reacts so fiercely when it is them coming our way. Dinnae ken how she can tell though, yet it appears she can. Several men riding our way. They dinnae sound as if they are in much of a hurry.” He stared down the road and whispered a curse when he recognized the four men riding their way. “Aye,’tis your cursed cousins.”
Mora quickly pulled up her hood to hide her pale hair, which could easily be a beacon telling her cousins where she was. “They didnae linger at the inn.”
“Nay, and obviously didnae hear anything to deter them from riding straight for Dubheidland.”
“So, what do we do now?” She tried to talk as softly as he did.
“We wait. E’en if they get there and are let in, they willnae get what they want, so will soon be headed back this way,” Gybbon said as he bent forward until he was flat against his horse’s strong neck.
After settling herself flat against Gybbon, Mora waited for her cousins to ride by. She had hoped they would stay at the inn, enjoying proper beds and hot food for a few days. But they had not, and thus she and Gybbon would not have at least one day without trouble. It was evident that Robert was determined to be rid of her as soon as possible. She prayed Maggie was hiding Andrew well.
Then Gybbon began to sit up, but continued to frown in the direction her cousins had gone. “What is wrong?” she asked.
“I am nay sure. Robert looked his usual sullen self. Yet, I noticed that his brothers all stayed behind him as they rode and rarely took their eyes off him. He would look back at them now and then, but it wasnae a friendly or brotherly glance.”
“Mayhaps they just grow weary of the chase.”
“Possible, but I begin to wonder if they now all think as we do. Robert isnae quite sane and, I believe, none of what he is doing is for the benefit of his brothers. Cannae be sure because we dinnae ken what reason he told them for all of this.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Might as weel ride closer to the cottage. We cannae ride to Dubheidland with them straight between us and the keep. But at least when they finally leave the place, we will be close to where we can take our rest for the night.”
“Good idea. And mayhap we can overhear something important when they go by again.”
“That would certainly be helpful.”
“I just wish I could understand what he thinks he can gain with all this. Aye, the house is a good one and the land is fertile, but there isnae all that much of it, not compared to what his father still holds. The keep is far grander with a great deal more land, fertile land and good grazing land. It just doesnae make any sense.”
“Greed often doesnae. It would shock ye to discover how many of those who seek out more and more actually have a lot already. ’Tis as if they get a wee taste of the riches and grow gluttonous.”
She sighed. “Nay, it wouldnae shock me, I fear. One just hopes for something better from one’s own kin.”
“Weel, we shall ride on within the trees and hope they come back this way and leave before we find a cottage or that small manor house that is out this way. If they dinnae show, then it will be another night on the ground.”
Mora could not completely hide a grimace. Her wound would not like that at all. She needed it looked at and then pampered for a short while. It needed to be cleaned, closed, and have healing cream put on. A night on what would be cold, damp ground could easily bring on a fever. As they wound their way through the trees, she prayed they would reach Sigimor’s soon. She needed to tend the wound properly or it would become very troublesome indeed, dangerously so.
She hung onto him as they continued to meander through the trees. Mora was beginning to get sleepy as the day drew near an end when Gybbon suddenly stopped and moved up nearer to the road. He tossed blankets over Jester’s tail and mane again and she struggled to wake herself up so she could hear whatever her cousins might speak of.
“Is it them again?” she asked softly.
Gybbon looked around at her, thinking she sounded very groggy, but the light was too dim under the trees now that the sun was setting to see what ailed her. “Aye, and Robert looks furious,” he answered just as softly. “Didnae ye hear your cat sound her alarm?”
She just shrugged. “I felt ye change direction and when I saw ye draw nearer to the road, I just assumed it was them.” She reached down to scratch her cat’s head. “Good lass,” she murmured.
Finally awake enough to see the road they watched more clearly, she saw the four men slowly approach. Robert led them, his three brothers still staying as far out of his reach as possible yet close enough to hear any orders he might direct at them. Gybbon was right. Robert looked furious. Since he was still alive, she had to assume he had not openly displayed his temper to the Camerons.
“So what do we do now, Robert?” asked Duncan.
“About what? Those fool Camerons?”
“The fact that Mora wasnae there, nor was Andrew.”
“We go and hunt for Andrew. He cannae be any harder to find than she is.”
“Robert,” said Murdoch, and he swallowed visibly, “Andrew is just a boy. Only seven.”
“Aye, and with no male about to raise him.”
Mora could feel all the blood drain from her cheeks for she now knew what he had planned. If she was right, and both her heart and mind screamed that she was, the man just might win if she could not get Andrew to someplace safe where Robert could not find him. Andrew would never survive if Robert got the care of him.
“I dinnae ken what ye mean.”
“He is a boy child and heir to a fine house and a goodly amount of land. He should have an older, higher ranked male guardian.”
“Ye want to take care of the boy?”
“God, nay. I just want to get my hands on him and that will help me do so. Who is that fool woman Aunt Rona liked so much? She lives in the town.”
“Maggie,” Lachlan said quietly. “She lives in a cottage just down the street from the butcher’s. What do ye think she can do for ye?”
“Give me the boy.”
“Ye think she has him? If ye thought that, why have we been riding all over the countryside?” Duncan demanded.