“If Mora doesnae have him, he is with Maggie. Thus far we have nay proof that he is with his sister, do we? The Camerons arenae going to let us look for Mora on their land; the laird made that verra clear as did the ones at the keep, so we will take the time to go have a look for the boy and start to get the papers needed to take him into our care. We are his closest male relatives. It shouldnae be hard to get whomever has a say in such things to hand him over to us.”
Mora felt as horrified as Duncan, Lachlan, and Murdoch looked, although they did their best to quickly wipe those expressions from their faces. She knew Robert meant to kill her brother, neatly ridding himself of the last heir to what he coveted, but she also knew he would make life a living hell for the boy before he found a way to kill him without being blamed for it. As soon as possible, she had to find Andrew and get him tucked away safely before Robert got his murderous hands on him.
Then she thought of Aunt Maggie. That woman’s life was now also in danger. Robert would not tolerate any defiance from a woman and Maggie would give him plenty as she protected her dearest friend’s child. Somehow Mora had to find a way to get to Maggie and help her.
Her cousins rode out of range and she could hear no more. Gybbon began to ride back into the trees, stripping off the blankets that hid his mount’s startling color. He knew she needed to get someplace where her wound could be seen to before she could even attempt to think of a way to help Aunt Maggie.
Once away from where her cousins had slowed their pace to talk, she said, “I have to get my brother before he does.”
“Aye, ye do, but we can decide how that will be done when we stop winding our way through the woods.” Gybbon glanced back at her. “Do ye think they mean to ride fast to town and catch her or that she is fool enough to stay where they ken she should be?”
Aunt Maggie was neither brave nor terribly clever, but she was not completely witless. She knew who had killed her friend and her husband. She would expect them to come looking for the boy. Mora was just not sure where she would, or could, go. Maggie had never spoken much of her family, save for one elder sister, or her life before the old laird had taken her for his leman. She did have one friend near her, Morag Sinclair, who would take her in and hide her, but that would then put two older women in danger.
“Nay, she isnae. Oh, she can be verra silly at times and she isnae the bravest woman, but she will ken that they will come looking for the boy. Of that I feel certain. She and my mother were as close as any sisters and adored each other. Aunt Maggie will do what she must to try and protect Andrew.”
“Then let her do what she must for a wee while as we come up with a sound plan to go and get her and Andrew.”
“I will.” Mora just hoped she could hold to that and not let fear and worry make her break that vow.
*
“Damn. Someone is staying in the manor.” Gybbon rode a little closer, almost out of the trees. “I guess we will have to go on and find the cottage and hope it is empty.”
“Wait,” Mora said as the door opened and some man stepped out. “Who is that? He has red hair. Could he be a Cameron?”
“Not only Camerons have red hair, ye ken, but aye, that is Sigimor.” Gybbon nudged his horse forward and the man turned to stare at him.
“What are ye doing lurking about in my woods?” asked Sigimor as Gybbon rode up.
“Keeping this lass from being killed by her greed-maddened cousin.”
Mora leaned around Gybbon and smiled at Sigimor. Now she understood why her own family had so much red hair. He looked big and strong and was frowning at her.
“Weel, come on in and tell us what the trouble is.”
Gybbon put his horse away, then led Mora into the manor. He entered the hall where Sigimor and his wife sat at the table and a maid was finishing the laying out of food and drink. After greeting Jolene, and introducing Mora to both of them, he urged Mora to sit on the bench and then sat beside her. She set her bag down under the table and a moment later Freya appeared at her side.
“Ye brought a cat?” Sigimor said.
“This is Freya,” Mora said. “She is my cat. Do ye wish her away from here?”
“No, of course not,” said Jolene, ignoring her husband’s frown. “I love cats, especially little ones.”
“So why are ye running about my woods, Gybbon?” asked Sigimor. “I shouldnae have Murrays skipping through my woods.”
“I was bringing Mora here. Her parents told her to come to ye if there was trouble, and there was. Someone killed her parents as they were coming home from the market.”
Sigimor looked at Mora and asked, “Who were your parents, lass?”
“They were Rona and David Ogilvy.” She saw a brief flash of sadness touch his face and was both saddened by the news she had just given him and pleased he had remembered her parents.
“A shame, lass. Your mother was very prompt in replying to any question I wrote her about when I was raising my brothers and sister. She would have stayed to help me if I had asked even though she ne’er mentioned it, but there was great comfort in kenning I had someone I could ask who would answer promptly.”
“I think she knew that.”
“Who killed them?”
“My cousin Robert. His brothers ride with him, but I begin to think they havenae had anything to do with killing anyone.”
“Then why are they riding with him?”
“I think they ken he is mad and wish to keep him from doing something even a nearly dead laird’s son cannae escape harsh punishment for.”
“Is he mad?” Sigimor asked Gybbon, and Mora used the chance to help herself to some food, carefully cutting up a bit of meat for Freya.
“Such a pretty little cat,” said Jolene as she sat on the other side of the animal and gently stroked her fur.
“And the best warning bell I have e’er had,” said Gybbon.
“Warning bell?” asked Jolene, staring at the cat, who calmly kept eating.
“Aye, she lets us ken when anyone is approaching on horseback. She growls or hisses when someone is coming, looks in the direction they are coming from, too. We now ken she hisses when it is Mora’s cousins.”
“Why would she do that?” asked Sigimor as he watched the cat his wife was cooing over.
“She is verra little for a grown cat and everything frightens her. She kens what is a danger and avoids it. In truth, she stays with me all the time, ever since I beat off a hawk that thought she looked tasty. I suspicion she also senses my alarm.”
“Smart cat, and those are words I would ne’er have thought to say. Why are your cousins trying to kill ye? And why did they kill your parents?”
“They want what was left to my father. I fear they also killed my brothers, Niall and David.”
“Ye dinnae ken for certain?”
“Nay, they were in France to fight and gain some coin, but they have nay returned and ne’er wrote to my mother and father. Verra unlike them.”
Sigimor kept asking questions and Mora did her best to answer though she was feeling deeply tired, fighting to keep her eyes open even as her head ached and her wound throbbed. When he turned his questions on Gybbon, she turned to Jolene. She hoped the woman knew something about healing as she knew she needed something done soon.
“Do ye ken anything about healing?” she asked softly.
“Aye. Do ye need something?”
“I got a wee wound when running from Robert and I begin to think it needs something.”
“Oh.” Jolene felt her forehead and frowned. “Yes, I believe ye do.”
“Has she got a fever?” Sigimor asked.
Jolene sighed. “Nay. She just needs a little woman’s aid. ’Tis just habit to feel for a fever. There is nothing I can catch here, so you can just go back to pummeling Gybbon for information.”
Gybbon watched Mora collect her bag, let Freya in it, and then follow Jolene up the stairs. “Why are ye fretting about fever? It hasnae struck here again, has it?”
“Nay, but I admit, I fret o’er illness,” Sigimor answered.
“No one has better reason. Is that why ye are here? There is illness at the keep?”
“Aye, and I am certain Jolene is right, that it is nothing of any great consequence, but I rushed her and the bairns here as fast as I could. Fergus will come to tell me when it is gone.”