“Because they are full grown. Our da was tall.”
“Aye, that is what Maman said. But ye are full grown, too.”
“Ah, aye, I am. I took after Maman.” She reached around the boy and pinched Gybbon on the arm when she saw he was laughing.
“But I am almost as tall as ye are already and I am only seven.”
“I suspect ye will grow even taller and be bigger than me.”
“Like David and Niall?”
“Aye, like David and Niall.”
“Did Robert kill them, too?” he asked softly, stirring his porridge instead of eating it.
“I dinnae ken, Andrew.”
“Eat your porridge, laddie,” said Sigimor in a gentle yet firm voice. “Ye have a long trip ahead of ye. No need to chew over sad things by asking questions no one has an answer for.”
“Where are we going?”
“I told ye,” said Mora. “We are going to ride to Sir Gybbon’s brother’s keep.”
“’Tis a fine keep, too,” said Gybbon.
Mora smiled faintly as Gybbon told Andrew all about Gormfeurach and her brother ate his porridge, even accepting a small added serving. He kept Andrew fascinated with his talk of big gates, high walls, and a dungeon. Mora heard most of it and had to admit she was eager to see it.
Something bumped her arm and she looked down to see Freya at her side. She scratched her cat’s ears and cut up some of her meat to put it on a small plate for the animal. Mora hoped a three-day journey hidden in the back of a wagon would not cause the animal too much distress. She was not so certain how she would endure it, either.
As they left the table and collected up what they needed for their journey, Mora felt a touch of sadness. This was her family’s land, where her parents had grown up and where she had spent her whole childhood. She could not help but hope she would be able to return sometimes without worrying about her cousins.
She stared at the cart Gybbon put her bag in. It would be a crowded ride, but they had so well padded the bed of it that she suspected it would not be too uncomfortable. She and Andrew stayed inside the door as Gybbon and Sigimor told them to and waited.
The way the man was so carefully making sure they were not seen as they left woke a fear within Mora. It strengthened what she already felt about her cousins by telling her just how hard they were hunting her and Andrew. He had even come up with a clever way to sneak both of them into the cart without much risk of them being seen.
“My Sigimor is a very careful planner,” said Jolene as she stepped up beside Mora. “Before he even takes a step he has plotted out every one of those steps and all that could go wrong so he can be prepared for that, too.”
“Oh, I wasnae doubting that. It was just how all of this made it so sharply clear that I am in a fight for Andrew’s life. And my own.”
Jolene patted her on the back. “A hard thing to look straight in the eye. I was faced with such a dark sight when we fought to keep my nephew alive. And for much the same reasons. Greedy relations.”
“If David and Niall should come back and come here to ask after us . . .”
“Oh, Sigimor will ken what to say and tell them how to find you. As well as giving them a fine escort. Do you think they might appear?”
Mora shrugged. “Who can say? They were going to meet up with some friends who had gone to France for the same reason, so I can only hope they had others on their side if Robert went after them there. Since I have heard naught from them, any of them, and I ken little about France and its wars, I simply cannae say.”
“And so, a tiny spark of hope flares now and then. Aye, I would not wish to believe the worst without proof, good hard proof, even if it would make me sad beyond words. But, not to fret, if they do happen to come and speak to Sigimor, or if he e’en hears word that they have returned, he will take care of them if it is needed.”
Jolene looked closely at Mora. “You have not really taken time to grieve for your parents, have you?”
“A bit, but there is Andrew to worry o’er. He grieves and is afraid and I have to appear strong. Da adored him and was teaching him about the wood and how to see what could be made in it, what it wanted to be made into. Andrew actually understood what he was talking about. I see a lump of wood as nothing more than something ye put on the fire.” She smiled when Jolene laughed. “My older brothers were much like I am. I think David understood what Da was talking about but simply could not see it as he did.”
“Did the laird get sick long before your da died?”
“Nay, ’twas shortly after. ’Tis why I have nay seen much of him. I would go with my mother, but he was rambling and near senseless each time we went. Then my parents were killed. And, aye, I think that was all planned out that way.”
“I think so, too, and so does Sigimor. We just say Robert is mad, and he most certainly is, but he can plan carefully and that makes him even more dangerous. And you are mucking about with his plan. Sad to say, even if he believed Andrew was no longer a problem, Robert would still come after you.”
“The day he burst into our home and tried to kill me, I could see that. He was furious and then in pain, but the hate still gleamed in his eyes.”
“Men do hate it when women muck about with their plans.”
“As they should,” said Sigimor as he kissed his wife on the cheek. “Especially if it is a good plan.”
Mora laughed when Jolene just rolled her eyes as she slid her arm around Sigimor’s waist. As she watched them she realized no one would have ever tried to match them. They would have looked at the small, somewhat delicate, raven-haired Englishwoman and the big, rough-mannered, and red-haired Scot and never thought of them as the perfect pair, and yet they were.
Sigimor suddenly left to direct the placement of some barrels of cider and ale at the rear of the cart. Mora realized she and her brother would not only be covered by a blanket but have a solid wall of casks behind them. This was going to be a very long journey.
Sigimor and Gybbon appeared to be having an argument as they walked around the side of the manor, the cart slowly following them, so Mora asked, “Is there a problem?”
“Aside from the fact that Gybbon insists he should pay Sigimor for the cider and ale, no.” Jolene took her by the hand and caught Andrew by his to lead them into the somewhat fancy little sitting room Jolene had set up for herself and any ladies who happened to come by. “Sigimor decided to slip you two into the cart out this way as it can be brought closer to the door, so if you are in sight, it will only be for a very short time if at all.”
“He has really planned this out,” Mora whispered in amazement.
“Aye.” Jolene picked up a crate but shook her head when Mora reached for the other one. “You are not to lift anything heavy for a while. Your wound has closed and looks fine, but the skin is fragile there, so you must play the invalid for a while. A very annoying pose to hold but, trust me, just reminding yourself that if you ruin my work you will have to go through all the mending steps you have done already all over again can be enough to make you behave.”
Sigimor stepped up to the door, leaned against the frame, and held his cloak out a bit. “Tuck yourself up in here, lad,” he said to Andrew, and the boy hurried to do so. “Feet on my foot and hold on to my leg. Good lad,” he said, and walked back to the cart after taking the crate from Jolene.
Mora watched as he went to the rear of the cart, talked to Gybbon, and Andrew quietly slipped into the back of the cart. Even she barely caught a glimpse of the child and she knew where to look. Sigimor then slid the crate in place.
He came back to the door, stood in the same position, half inside, half outside, and took the second crate from Jolene. “Now, lass, under the cloak, feet on my foot and arms about my waist. I tested this out with Jolene so ken I can walk fair normal when ye do.”
“I am more weight than Andrew.”