"Nay? Ye dinnae want to ken the answers to all of this?"
"I do, desperately. I feel those answers will only help me. Howbeit, tis truly only Diarmot who can hunt down all those answers for they are all tangled up in the memory he still cannae grasp."
"So, why did ye want this meeting? And that is what this is, aye?"
"Aye." Ilsa folded her hands upon the table and looked at each woman in turn.
"Since the men seek out the who and the why, I think tis our duty to seek out the traitor. I think that can be done e'en if we dinnae ken the who and the why."
Fraser nodded. "It can. Ye dinnae always need to ken why a mon becomes a traitor to discover his betrayal."
"Couldnae it be dangerous?" asked Gay.
"I was poisoned in my own solar, right within these walls," said Ilsa. "I think the danger is here already."
"Ah, of course. Still, I think Nanty is searching for the traitor."
"It willnae hurt if we do the same. In truth, since Nanty is the laird's brother, he may have some trouble getting many people to talk freely to him. His murderous uncle didnae win many people's hearts. Then, shortly after he became laird here, Diarmot wed Anabelle and she only added to the unease and mistrust that still clings to this place and its laird. I fear Diarmot's unhappiness and then his wariness, his suspicious nature, didnae win many allies, either."
Glenda shook her head. "Nay. He cares for these lands and the people better than his uncle did, but he was e'er distant, an anger clinging to him that kept people wary. The lad ne'er had a chance to bring this wee clan together ere he was mired in his own troubles. And, after that beating, weel, he didnae have to accuse anyone to his face for most to ken he was eyeing them all as if they held a dirk at his throat."
It was all so sad, Ilsa thought as she chewed on a thick slice of bread layered with soft cheese. Diarmot's uncle had spent most of his life drunk, jealous of his own brother, and sunk in plots that kept three clans tearing at each other's throats until they had nearly obliterated each other. The man had done nothing to strengthen his own lands or people. She suspected that when Diarmot had arrived to take his place as laird, there had been a brief flicker of hope only to have it crushed. The new laird had quickly become all caught up in his own troubled, unhappy life. Some things had improved, but no sense of unity or loyalty had been established. To the people of Clachthrom, their laird was a morose stranger. To Diarmot, the people of Clachthrom were all possible threats.
Once all this trouble was behind them, Diarmot would have a lot of work to do. He was going to have to bring this small branch of the MacEnroy clan a sense of unity, that sense of family that made a clan so strong. Clachthrom had promise and he was going to have to win the trust and respect of his people to fulfill it. Ilsa did not think it would be too difficult. In many ways, he had already improved the lot of his people. Diarmot just had to let them come to know him as a man.
"That constant air of suspicion around Diarmot can be wearying," Ilsa said.
"One may understand why tis there and sympathize, but it can still set one's teeth to grinding. Twill be better soon, once Diarmot kens exactly who his enemy is."
"But, can he forget and forgive?" asked Glenda. "I dinnae care to think on how many of the men on these lands cuckolded him."
"He didnae banish the men or hang anyone, did he? No beatings? No cut throats?"
"Nay, nary a one. I think he put most of the blame upon his wife, then simply stopped caring."
"Weel, I dinnae see the men as quite so blameless. After all, Diarmot's brothers resisted the woman. She wasnae raping the men. Mayhap some of the trouble round here is caused by guilt. But it matters not. Diarmot willnae be punishing anyone. He didnae then, and he willnae now. I think he just wants Anabelle set firmly in the past, all wrongs and sins forgotten. That will soon be clear to all those cuckolders. We must concern ourselves with only one mon now."
"The traitor," said Gay. "Do ye think it a mon?"
"Aye, I do," replied Ilsa, "and I cannae tell ye why I do. That doesnae mean we should ignore the women, however. I could be wrong. It could be one of them.
All I ken is that someone is helping our enemy, that a traitor walks the halls of this keep and that brings the danger too close to the bairns for my liking."
All three women heartily agreed and Fraser asked, "Who do ye suspect?"
"Everyone save ourselves, Jenny, Nanty, and Tom."
"Geordie, too?" asked Gay. "Your husband believed what the mon said about the poisoned wine and that maid is still missing."