“When did the laird fall ill?”
Mora frowned. “The day my parents went to market and were killed on their way home. Robbed of the money they had as weel. Ye dinnae really think they would try to kill their own father, do ye?” She shook her head. “Nay, if naught else, Murdoch, the youngest, wouldnae have had any part of that. Although the murder they claim I did was done with Robert’s sword, the item I am accused of stealing along with my own da’s money.”
“And your father was their uncle. Aye?” When she nodded he smiled faintly. “Nay a big leap from uncle to father.” She was growing a bit pale, so he decided to leave that subject. “I will take ye to Dubheidland.”
“I cannae take ye out of your way,” she said as she fought to banish all thought of her cousins from her mind.
“’Tis nay really out of my way. I was actually thinking of stopping in there to beg a good meal and a proper bed for a night or two.”
It was madness to go off with a man she did not know, Mora thought, but she was already caught fast in a kind of madness. What her cousins were doing had to be madness. Murdoch could not know the extent of his brother’s crimes. She felt certain of it. He had not known they were responsible for her parents’ death; she was sure of that. His expression as his brother taunted her with what they had done was one of horrified astonishment. He had definitely aided in hers and Andrew’s escapes. And, she feared, it would eventually lead to his own death.
“Come, eat something,” he coaxed as he held out a plate of rabbit and bread. “Then we can get some sleep and be on our way at the break of day.”
Taking the plate, she nodded. She was not feeling particularly hungry, despite her stomach’s interest in the rabbit earlier, but she knew she needed to eat. Strength was needed for what lay ahead. Staring down at her plate, she picked up a chunk of rabbit and nibbled on it, watching with calm amusement as Freya’s small paw reached out and caught up a small chunk of meat. The faint smile that crossed Sir Gybbon’s face did a lot to ease her mind about going off with him.
“It is always hard to discover one’s kin are nay to be trusted,” he consoled.
“Or just plain greedy and evil with the blood of one’s own parents dripping from their hands?”
“Nay sure I would put it that way,” he murmured, then glanced at her. “Ye did say one of the brothers didnae seem to be part of it all.”
“Murdoch, aye. He is only eighteen and he really looked horrified, and then he tried to stop them from killing my goats. May be why some of them fled successfully. Then he said nothing when I helped my young brother escape out the window to run to Aunt Maggie. He also told me to run after Robert hit me and his other two brothers were trying to help Robert stop bleeding.”
“Does sound innocent. Why was this Robert bleeding?”
“He grabbed me when I tried to get by him and I cried out. Freya leapt onto his face and slashed him. He threw her toward the fire, but she is an agile little girl”—she scratched her cat’s ears—“and twisted while still in the air so she fell to the floor off to the side. I ran over and got her, and it was Murdoch who signaled me to run, to get out. So, I did, though Robert tried to stab me as I passed by him. And I have continued to run. I was surprised that they did not come by me while I was on the road. I then thought that they might have taken Robert to someone to tend to his wounds or even told the sheriff of the crimes they want to charge me with and got some of his men to help them.”
Gybbon stared at the small cat, who was primly taking another piece of meat. “She really doesnae look so fierce.”
“She always goes for the face.” Mora smiled when he winced. “She is actually afraid of a lot of things. Think it is because she is so small. Even a hawk eyes her as a meal. Fortunately, it also eyes a small female with a broom as a threat. So, ye think Sigimor Cameron might help?”
“Aye, unless his own family is facing some threat. To Sigimor that would be the trouble he needed to deal with.”
Mora nodded. “Of course it would be. Completely understandable.”
“And your mother was right to not stay and mother everyone. She wouldnae have agreed with all the ways he did it. I am fair certain of it. A rough mon is Sigimor, but his brothers all turned out well and most of them are still at home.”
“It is a shame she didnae live to see that. Every now and then she fretted over her decision. So Dubheidland is still a place filled with big men with red hair?”
“Aye. Often a lot of MacFingals, too, although that has lessened some as they get older and, I suspect, Sigimor doesnae appreciate any of them flirting with his wife.”
Mora laughed. “Who are these MacFingals?”
As she finished her food she was thoroughly entertained by Sir Gybbon’s talk of the MacFingals. Although the old laird was a scandal, she had to admire him for the care he took of all his children, legitimate or not. Few men would bother.
She was just setting her plate down when Freya stared at the road and then hopped into her bag. “I need to hide,” said Mora as she grabbed her bag and tugged her hood up over her hair.
“Why?”
“Someone is coming down the road.” She pointed to the woods just beyond the horse, and added, “I will only be hiding over there.”
Gybbon watched her head into the woods and wondered if she meant to flee. Even as he thought he should make sure she did not, he heard the hoofbeats of a couple of horses coming. A man and a woman rode by, quietly talking to each other and taking no notice of him. As soon as they passed by, he stood up and walked to the edge of the woods. He stared into the shadowed area but caught no glimpse of Mora.
“Mora?”
Suddenly her head popped up and he was briefly startled. Her hood had completely covered her hair. It appeared she had a true skill at hiding and he idly wondered why.
“It was just a couple riding by. Naught to worry about.”
Mora climbed out of her hiding place. She wondered why she had not taken the chance to run. The man had said he knew Sigimor and knew how to get to Dubheidland, but she had no way to test the truth of that until she reached the gates and he was recognized by the Camerons. Then she shrugged and brushed the debris from her cloak. He was the best hope she had of getting where she needed to go before her cousins got to her, and he had a horse.
“I will come along in just a moment or two.”
Gybbon started to ask why the wait and then clamped his mouth shut. Women needed a moment of privacy just like men. He walked back to the fire and began to clear up what small mess he had there. Just as he began to put some sand over the embers of the fire, she walked back into the campsite, that strange tiny cat at her side.
Mora stepped up to the fire and watched the man as he made certain it was fully out, no heat evident. He was a very handsome fellow, she mused. His hair was a gleaming black and a bit long, hanging a few inches past his shoulders. There were slender braids at the front and she recalled her father talking of warrior’s braids when he would tell her stories about old battles, although she had gotten the feeling that was from a long time ago. It suited Gybbon, however. From the slightly elegant lines of his face, she would judge him well born.
When he stood up and looked at her, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from making any sound. His eyes were a beautiful clear green yet there appeared to be some blue in there as well. She wondered how she had missed that.
He walked off into the trees and she released a small sigh of relief. Now she had time to settle herself, calm the odd reaction she had to his looks. She had to admit she had never seen such a fine-looking man or had such a reaction to any man. Mora hoped that was not going to make the trip they would soon take together awkward. She would be humiliated if he caught her staring at him all cow-eyed.
When he returned he spread out a blanket for her, then spread another across the fire pit. “Sleep, lass.”
“Is it safe to sleep out here?”
“Aye. Anything too mean and dangerous and Jester will ale
rt us. I begin to think so would your cat. Would it help if I relit a fire?”
“Nay. I will be fine. An unwatched fire would make me nervous.”
“Get some rest then. My sword is at the ready.”
She smiled faintly as she settled on the blanket and tugged the rest of it over her. She also kept her cloak on. A moment later Freya nudged her way under the blanket and curled up by her chest. He was right. Freya would warn her if there was any danger. She just hoped her pet stayed close and did not give in to the rare temptation to wander.
* * *
Gybbon woke up and stared into the moonlit forest wondering what woke him before the sun rose. Jester was making no sounds to wake him. He turned and looked across the small fire pit at his companion. She was asleep, and right next to her, staring back at him, was her odd little cat.
The cat showed no sign of alarm, but he was surprised it stayed with her in the blanket. He had always thought that cats loved to roam the night. This one seemed perfectly content to stay curled up with the woman. Shaking his head, he decided he had been awakened simply by a need to make certain everything was quiet. He closed his eyes, determined to get a little more sleep, and hoped Sigimor would help her.
If Sigimor did not, or could not, then the Murrays would, he decided. Falsely accused and with a set of brothers close on her trail, she was going to need help. He began to go through the long, long list of his kinsmen and connections to think of which would be the best one to approach. It was enough to put him peacefully back to sleep.
Chapter Three
Someone was shaking her, Mora realized, as she became fully aware of a big hand gripping her by the shoulder. She swatted at it even as she felt sleep loosen its hold on her. Then a familiar furry head butted her and rubbed against her face. It was the loud purr that finally caused her to open her eyes. Freya sat tidily next to a pair of thick deer hide boots. She frowned as she slowly looked up long legs, over a kilt and a shirt, until her eyes finally rested upon a face.
Her sleep-clouded mind cleared abruptly as she stared into a pair of bright green eyes. Last night she had agreed to allow this man to take her to Dubheidland. In the clear light of day, she now questioned that decision. Freya leaned against his boot and Mora decided to trust in her pet. It was obvious that Freya trusted the man, or that fine boot she rubbed her head against would be shredded. Carefully, Mora sat up and rubbed her eyes.
A minute later she became acutely aware of needing a little privacy. She was just standing up when Freya spun to face the road and hissed. When the cat dashed to her side, still staring at the road and growling deep in her throat, Mora picked her up.
“What is wrong with her?” Gybbon asked.
“She hears someone riding our way. I need to hide again.”
“How could she know?”
“I dinnae ken. The same way she can tell a wee mousie is running through the grass farther away than we can see, I think. She has been a great help. I always kenned when someone was riding our way and would hide.” She put Freya in her bag, pulled her hood up to cover her hair, and darted into the trees.
Gybbon grabbed a branch, snapping it off the nearest tree, and brushed away all sign of her footprints. Tossing it back into the trees, he wondered why he was acting as if that cursed cat had just warned her of danger. He stared toward the wood she had run into, but could not see her.
Next, he looked toward the road as he folded up the blanket she had slept on. A moment later, four men came riding into view, pausing to stare at his campsite, which was much more visible in the daylight. When they cautiously turned off the road and rode toward him, he took his porridge pot off the fire, drew his sword, and faced them.
“We dinnae mean any harm, sir,” said the one in the lead, looking almost apologetic with his blue eyes and blond hair tumbling around his face as he bent his head in greeting.
“Then why do four of ye approach a lone mon?”
“We are looking for someone.”
“Who?”
He glanced at the man just to the right of the man he was speaking to. He was leaning forward in his saddle and looked as if he wanted to be the one to speak. He also had a badly scratched face. Looking at the ones close to his eyes, Gybbon was surprised the man still had eyes. Looking a little more closely, he decided they were also too red and swelling somewhat.
“Our young cousins. A woman and a boy of about six or seven. Their parents recently died and in their grief and fear, they saw danger everywhere, and finally fled.”
Gybbon looked past the three men in front of him and saw the young bruised man at the back. He was slowly shaking his head and Gybbon chanced a nod of acknowledgment, rubbing his chin while he stared at the ground as if he was thinking. That young man, he was sure, was Murdoch, and Mora was right. The boy was not in league with his brothers. Sadly, she was also right to think he might not survive not joining with them wholeheartedly.
“I have seen neither a young boy nor a young woman. Anything that might help me ken they are the ones ye seek if and when I might espy them?”
“They are both fair-haired. The boy has a lot of red in his hair though. The woman carries a cat with her everywhere.”
“A cat?”
“Aye, I fear so. It has caused some talk amongst the villagers, but she willnae give it up. But ye say ye have nay seen anyone like that?”
“Nay, and I have been on the road for nearly a week.”
“She probably hid whene’er she saw ye,” said the man Gybbon guessed was Robert. “She wouldnae trust any mon. Never did.”
Gybbon could see why. Polite as the one talking to him was, Gybbon knew he could not be trusted either. He did not wish these men anywhere close to Mora. It was going to take some hard thinking to figure out a way to leave this site without meeting up with these men.
“Then I willnae see her, will I? Now, it has been fine meeting ye, but I have somewhere I am trying to reach as soon as possible.”
“Weel, if ye do happen to see her or her wee brother, just send word to the Ogilvys at Wasterburn. Just go down this road and ye will pass it. Ye will at least meet someone who can tell ye the right way to go.”
“Got it. Wasterburn, just down this road. As ye wish.” He glanced at Robert and said, “I would get those scratches seen to and cleaned out because they look to be starting to fester.”
They all muttered something he suspected was supposed to be courteous thanks and rode off. Murdoch cast a quick look back at him and, after a glance at his brothers, gave Gybbon another nod. That boy was walking a very thin line, Gybbon thought, and shook his head. He turned back to place his porridge pot on the fire again and wait for Mora to return.
* * *
Mora slipped away from the spot she had chosen to hide in and took care of the business she needed to. As she used some of the water she carried to wash up, she watched Freya do the same. She had been scolding herself for taking the cat but began to think Freya would not have let her leave her behind. Mora had to accept that the animal was far too attached to her, but she would not do anything to end that, not even if it would stop the whispers about her in the town.
Freya came trotting back and got in the bag. Picking it up, Mora cautiously approached the campsite. The sight of her cousins facing Gybbon had chilled her blood. He had stood calmly holding his sword at the ready and Duncan had done the talking. She had winced as she had caught sight of Robert’s face, not realizing how much damage Freya had done. He was going to be scarred and that was going to infuriate him as he was a bit vain. Mora scratched her cat’s head and knew she could never leave the animal alone anywhere near Robert.
She had watched her cousins, afraid they might find some reason to strike out at Gybbon, but they finally just rode away. The way Murdoch nodded at Gybbon made her say a quick prayer for the boy. As Gybbon went to put a pot of something on the fire, she waited until she felt as certain as she could that her cousins would not come back, then stood up to go back to Gybbon and sit
down next to him.
He handed her a plate of porridge and then set a small plate of chopped up rabbit meat in front of Freya. She idly wondered if he had had some experience with cats. Eating the porridge was a little difficult without the sweet cream she was used to putting on it, but it was good enough and she finished it. At some time, she would have to cook him a meal to make up for all the food he had supplied her with.
When she set her plate aside and looked at him, she caught him staring at Freya. “What is it?”
“I was just thinking on the scratches marring Robert’s face. It is a bit difficult to believe such a tiny thing could do that much damage. She doesnae hunt her own meal?”
“Ah, weel, nay. Oh, she catches a mouse or bird now and then, but she rarely goes out alone. Every time she did something tried to kill her. Last time was the hawk. So, since I drove it off and it left her be, she considers a kindly person the safest armor to have and willnae go outside without one. Animals learn what to avoid when they are young, and she learned that being outside alone was bad and it stays with her.” She took a deep breath and asked, “So did they wonder if ye had seen me?”
“Oh, aye. Ye and a small boy.”
“I was hoping they were nay after Andrew as weel, but of course they are. He is still an heir, e’en if all the rest of us die.”
“And, of course, ye are just seeing danger everywhere and need to be saved,” he drawled.
Mora shook her head. “I am sure they will spread that tale as far as they can. Sadly for them, I am nay a person weel kenned in the area. My parents were because they went to the market each time it was held and kenned all the others who sold their goods there. Such a tale will serve them as weel as me. But I wonder why they didnae mention the crimes they seek to charge me with.”
“Dinnae fret o’er it. I believe they took my word for it when I said I had seen neither a woman or a boy. They were nay pleased when I said I didnae ken who they sought, have never seen them, but they left me a description and rode away. I was just sitting here eating and wondering what would be the best and safest way to continue on to Dubheidland. Do they ken about that?”
Highland Devil Page 3
