"It may be the truth," replied Ilsa, "and Nanty intends to hunt down that maid. Yet, I just cannae fully trust the mon. Dinnae ask me to explain why, as I cannae. Tis mostly a feeling. Could be instinct giving me a warning I should heed. Could be I just dinnae like dour men and Geordie is a verra dour mon. I will watch him."
"And I will find out what I can about the women working at the keep," said Glenda. "Gay can help some." She smiled faintly at Fraser, a hint of apology in her look. "I am nay sure ye can be much help there. Ye are tied too closely to the old lady of the keep and now the new one."
"I ken it." Fraser took a sip of wine, then frowned. "Isnae Gay tied rather closely to the new lady also?"
"Some, but she is the wet nurse, common born, and verra young. E'en though many people can see she is treated verra weel, nay like a servant, she is more one of diem than ye are. And Jenny can help. Ye and her ladyship can watch the men."
"If the women would have trouble confiding in Ilsa or me, why should the men be any easier to get information out of?"
"Because ye are a woman." Glenda laughed softly at Fraser's look of confusion. "As long as ye dinnae set the fool in a chair and openly question him, a mon willnae guard his words as carefully around a woman as he will a mon.
Most men simply cannae see a woman as a threat. Since they dinnae feel threatened, they speak freely. Tom and Nanty will also be watching each and every mon, too, but as some poor, weak, foolish woman, I suspect ye have a better chance of uncovering some clue." Glenda winked and the other women laughed.
They talked over their plans as they finished their meal and Ilsa felt hopeful. The number of people she and Diarmot could trust might be small, but they were clever and loyal. Since the traitor had to watch closely, gather information, and get that information to his master, he had to leave a trail.
Things had moved swiftly since her poisoning and the men's attention had quickly become fixed upon finding the enemy who would, in turn, lead them to the traitor. Ilsa would dearly like to present them with that traitor when they returned.
Gay and Fraser excused themselves but when Glenda also began to leave, Ilsa briefly grasped her by the hand, halting her. "Dinnae mistake me, Glenda, I am verra pleased ye have decided to come live at the keep. That said, I feel the need to ask if ye are certain this is what ye really want."
"Och, aye." Glenda patted Ilsa's hand. "I had a nice wee house, but twas all it was. A nice wee house. A nice wee empty house. Aye, I have some friends in the village, but we can still visit each other. Here, weel, it certainly willnae be lonely. I can also do my healing work for all who need it, but dinnae have to worry about keeping warm, or dry, or my belly full. And here I can be safe."
"Was there some danger for ye in the village? I ken Wallace said--"
"Wheesht, that was just an angry young fool saying hard words without thought. Yet there have been times when fear or grief made people turn angry eyes upon me. Tis the lot of a healer. The same gift of healing and herb lore they all seek when they are hurt or ill becomes dark and threatening when there comes an illness that cannae be cured. Or a blight or drought which can bring hunger. Ye cannae always depend upon good sense prevailing in time to save ye from harm. Weel, here I nay only have companionship when I want it, and all my worldly needs met, but I have verra thick walls guarded by some fine, burly men to hide behind if tis necessary. Nay, I want to stay here, lass."
"Weel, then, weelcome to Clachthrom."
Ilsa rested her forearms on the walls and stared out over the moonlit lands of Clachthrom. She had tried sleeping, but was too restless. She thought on what Diarmot was doing, whether he would succeed in his quest, and whether it would change anything between them. A sigh escaped her when she finally admitted to herself that she hated sleeping in that bed all alone.
"What are ye looking at, Mama?"
Odo stepped up beside her and Ilsa gave him what she hoped was a very stern frown. "Ye shouldnae be up on these walls, my fine lad. I cannae believe Fraser let ye come up here alone. Nor would anyone else."
"I had to talk to ye, Mama. I have come up here before, too."
"Alone? At night?"
"Weel, nay."
"Odo, my love, ye are a verra clever boy, but I think ye need to try harder to remember that ye are still just a wee laddie. Climbing up to the top of the keep's walls, at night, isnae something a lad of but five should be doing."
"I am sorry, Mama."
Ilsa put her arm around the boy. "Just try to remember that ye are a little boy. Ye will grow to be a mon soon enough. Now, what was so important that ye had to follow me here and risk a scold?"
"Why is Papa unhappy?" asked Odo.
"Ah, I hadnae realized ye had noticed. There are many reasons. None of them have anything to do with ye. Ye do ken that, dinnae ye?"