“That why it sounds so scratchy?”
“Nay. She didnae make many sounds as a cat does, but she has been doing that constantly since Mora rode off. Without her.”
Gybbon ran up to Mora’s bedchamber and cautiously opened the door. He barely managed to dart inside before the cat was there. He looked all around and the sight of her bag made him frown, for some of her things were missing, yet she had to have carried them in something else. He had never seen her without that bag. The more he thought on her disappearance, the more he felt sure he knew what she had done. He went to the door and sighed when Freya leapt onto his shoulder and wrapped her tail around his neck.
“Dinnae get comfortable because ye are nay coming with me,” he said, and hurried back down to the others. “I ken where she went.”
“To talk to our uncle,” said a small voice from behind him, and he looked at Andrew.
“Did she tell ye that?” Gybbon asked as the boy reached up and took Freya in his arms.
“Nay, but she felt she should do it, so I figured that was where she slipped off to. Mentioned it a few times and one of the boys we played ball with yesterday is kin to one of the Ogilvy guards. He told me he saw my sister ride into the keep just before the gates were shut for the night, so I kenned I had guessed right. She wants to tell Uncle the truth.”
“That is what I fear she has done, too,” Gybbon said.
“Oh, nay. That old mon willnae listen to anything she says, especially if it is a criticism of his eldest son. She will ne’er convince him that Robert lies or killed her parents and tries to kill her and Andrew,” Annys said, and shook her head. “If she had just mentioned what she planned, I could have told her, given her good solid reasons for why I think it, too. She has put herself in danger with no chance of success.”
“I have to go after her. If the mon still has the sense to give orders, she has walked into a trap. Robert will make sure she cannae leave and will allow his da to kill her for him.”
“I will come with ye and we can stop at the manor and pull in Sigimor,” Harcourt said.
“Why do we need Sigimor?”
“Aside from the fact that I promised I would tell him if something new happened about all this mess, he is keen on getting the old mon to finally see what his son is. His clan has lost some animals to the mon and so have others. All our allies. The laird just willnae listen to the truth—that ’tis the son’s doing. There are also Camerons at the keep, as men-at-arms, and some in the village. And at the manor are some guards we may be able to make use of. Robert willnae be able to get many of his men to face off against Sigimor’s. Plus, he probably has a few MacFingals with him.”
“Then I will get Freya and let us ride to get Sigimor.”
“Why get the cat?”
“She will want to see it when she is freed and I think all that scratchy yowling might be bothering Annys.”
“Ye get the cat then and I will get Andrew so she can have both when we get her free.”
*
“Aiden! What are ye doing here, laddie?” asked Annie, Dubheidland’s cook, as she hastily dried her hands so she could hug the boy.
“She brought me.” He pointed toward the woman standing behind him.
“Hilda? Why have ye come here so early? Ye ken I love to see the lad, but today isnae a good day. I am just finishing the meal to break the night’s fast, then I must pack up things as we will return to Dubheidland today.”
“I need to speak with the laird.”
“Weel, I fear ye may have to stand in a line and wait as we already have visitors and more stepped in just as ye did. Ian popped in to tell me.”
“If the visitors are who I think they might be, then I may speak with them, too?” She reached out and ruffled Aiden’s bone-straight black hair, which too often fell into his eyes. “Are ye ready, lad?”
The boy held on to a piece of paper and nodded, then looked at his aunt. “Is the laird in the hall, Aunt Annie?”
“Aye, but ye cannae go there. He has men with him and they are doing whate’er it is men born higher than we are do when they get together.”
“I have to. I have an important letter for him.” He walked out of the kitchen and Hilda smiled at Annie.
“Hilda, he shouldnae be interrupting the laird!”
“Dinnae fret. The laird willnae care after he reads the letter.”
“What is in it?”
“Wheesht, how would I ken that? I cannae read. Now, what can I help ye with?”
*
Niall frowned at the manor as he and David were about to ride past it. “That doesnae look empty anymore. I wonder whom Sigimor allowed to live there.”
“Himself,” David replied, and turned his mount toward the large stone house when a tall, red-haired man stepped out. “Those guards must have told him about us riding by. Hope nothing happened to Dubheidland,” he said as he reined in before Sigimor.
“Nay, save for the fact that all my people fell ill with something, so I brought my wife and bairn here. I am looking and I am sure I ken who ye are, but no name is coming to mind. Havenae broken my fast yet. Ye arenae kin, are ye?”
David dismounted as he laughed. “Only verra distantly. David Ogilvy.” He held out his hand to shake Sigimor’s as Niall dismounted and came to stand beside him.
Shaking Niall’s hand, Sigimor then turned and opened the door. “Guards didnae recognize ye, either, so I will take some comfort in that. Come in. Food will soon be served. I fear I have some verra bad news for ye.”
As they followed him in, David said, “We have heard it. We talked to Morag Sinclair. She told us but she also had some good news. Aunt Maggie made it to her sister’s. She had some burns though, so will be staying there for a while.”
“For the best. Things are nay right here as yet. Now what?” he grumbled as a boy walked into the hall and headed straight for Sigimor. “Who are ye, lad?”
“I am Aiden, the cook’s nephew. I have a letter for ye.” He thrust it toward Sigimor.
“What does it say?”
“I dinnae ken. Cannae read, can I. Ye can. Ye are a laird.”
“Who sent it?”
“A lady. Our laird has put her in the dungeons.”
Sigimor just grunted as he watched Jolene hesitate briefly in the doorway before she walked toward him. “A lady in the dungeon? Hurry and read it, Sigimor.” She smiled when the boy bowed to her, then she sat down next to Sigimor and whispered to him, “Why is there a scullion boy in here?”
“Brought the letter,” he whispered back, and kissed her ear. “After I present ye to these two fools so they can sit down again. Jolene, meet Niall and David Ogilvy, Mora’s brothers who couldnae seem to find their way out of France.”
“Oh! Mora will be so delighted!”
She pretended not to notice the little boy had slid onto the bench next to her and was filling his plate with food but handed him the right utensil as he studied all that was standing around the plate. Jolene knew she should be outraged and order him to leave, but he looked like he could use a good meal, so she said nothing, just made certain her skirts were well away from his clothing.
Then she studied Mora’s brothers. Both were tall, lean, and handsome enough to draw many ladies to their side. The one called Niall had brown hair, but it was liberally sprinkled with red and some gold. David had dark red hair. She could actually see a small similarity to Mora in them, especially in the blue of their eyes.
“Uh, Sigimor, she is English,” said Niall as he sat down, and earned a slap on the back of his head from David.
“I ken it but I decided I would forgive that flaw,” he said, and leaned out of reach when Jolene tried to hit him. “Let me read this letter, woman!”
David watched as Sigimor read the letter and his expression grew darker and darker. He suddenly understood why the man’s name could be enough to unsettle people. That was the face of a man who would ride into a gathering of the enemy and cut them to pieces, then go home, wash the blood off, and bed his wife with no lingering remorse about what he had done.