That was said in such a calm, almost amiable tone of voice that it reached out and grabbed hold of the fear Katerina was struggling to keep at bay. She had to fight to keep it from swamping her. The way the man spoke of killing made her very certain that there would be no mercy to be found in him. Even if she tried to bargain with him, she would not win. He would agree with the bargain, take what he wanted, and then kill her.
“Why isnae she dead?” demanded Agnes as she came back into the hall, marched over to the table, and glared at Katerina. “If neither of ye have the stomach for it, just give me the knife.”
“Ah, my loving sister, blood of my blood, how good it is to see ye again,” murmured Katerina.
“We cannae kill her now,” said Freda. “We need her to bring Sir Murray here.”
“Why should he come here, put his own life at risk, just for her?”
“Because he is a knight, an honorable mon who will feel it is what he must do to maintain his honor.”
“Such nonsense.” Agnes gave Ranald a seductive smile before glaring at Katerina again. “Must she lie there like that?”
“Nay, I was just about to have her moved to a chair by the fireplace and tie her to it. It isnae wise to leave her free as she could interfere when Sir Lucas comes or use some small moment of distraction to flee. If ye would be so kind, Ranald?” Freda asked, her voice a chill parody of courtesy.
Katerina bit back a cry of pain as Ranald grabbed her by the arm and yanked her off the table. When her feet touched the floor she nearly collapsed, dizziness and nausea swamping her. She wished she could fight him as he dragged her over to the chair near the fire, but she was too consumed with simply trying to remain conscious. Before she had gained enough control to just see clearly again, he already had her tightly bound to the chair. Katerina let her head rest against the back of the chair, closed her eyes, and fought to soften the pain and quell the nausea assaulting her. She knew she needed her wits strong and clear, but feeling the way she did at the moment made her unable to think of anything except how miserable she felt.
A tug on her hair brought her out of her stupor and she opened her eyes. Freda stood by the side of the chair holding her hair, an alarmingly large knife in her other hand. Katerina took a long, deep breath and then let it out slowly as she reached for calm and, she prayed, courage enough to see her through the ordeal ahead.
“Feeling a need for some small token?” she asked.
“This is to be taken to the inn from whence I am certain it will get to Sir Murray. A small missive will be with it telling him exactly where to come and how to behave if he wishes to see ye alive.”
“Ah, let me guess. He is to come here alone and unarmed.”
“Aye.”
“Whereupon ye will let him see me alive and then kill him.”
“Aye.”
“Nay!” cried Agnes as she hurried over to glare at her mother. “Ranald said I could have him first.”
For a moment Katerina thought Freda was going to hit Agnes. There was such a fierce, furious look on the woman’s face that Agnes actually took a few steps back until she was pressed close to Ranald. Then the look faded, slowly changing to one that could only be called cunning. Katerina fought the urge to shiver when the woman looked at her again.
“It could well torment ye to see your lover with my daughter,” Freda murmured. “I suspicion it could cut ye more deeply than any knife’s blade.”
“And why would ye think the mon is my lover?”
“Because he believed ye were the one who had him beaten and nearly killed yet he fights with ye now.”
“And I ken weel that he willnae like to see Ranald take his woman,” Agnes said, as if she had such a clever plan to begin with and had not just been thinking of her own wants and needs.
Freda slowly nodded. She took a small piece of parchment from a pocket in her black gown and wrapped the hair in it before giving it to Ranald. “See that this goes to the inn and that it is made verra clear that Sir Lucas Murray must receive it as soon as possible. Make sure the mon ye send understands that he must nay try to follow the one who will take it to Sir Murray. It would be good to ken where these reivers have been hiding so that we could rid ourselves of them at last, but getting Sir Murray here is of more importance now.”
“Are ye certain of that?” Ranald asked.
“Verra certain. He is a warrior. He undoubtedly leads them now and could make them stronger and more dangerous. In truth, once this one and Sir Murray are dead, there is a verra good chance the rest of them will slowly fade away into the mists.”
Ranald shrugged and went to find a messenger. Katerina could not be sure he would obey Freda in this as he really wanted the rest of her men. She had to have confidence in the cunning of her people to keep Ranald from finding them. Not only would worrying about them distract her when she needed to be watching every move her enemies made, but there was nothing she could do to help them now.
“Ye really believe ye can win, dinnae ye,” she said.
“Why not?” asked Freda. “I have accomplished all I wanted until now. Ye have proven a sore trial and far more clever than I had anticipated, but I kenned I would win in the end. Your father ne’er kenned that about me. He thought me some fool woman who had spread her legs for a mon and would be willing to accept any scraps he offered after that. He thought recognizing Agnes as his daughter should be more than enough to please me, that I wouldnae feel the sting of shame when he made me her nurse and refused to let anyone ken what I had once been to him. The bastard threatened me with sending me away and keeping Agnes with him if I told anyone who I was.”
Katerina thought that Agnes might have fared better, been a better person, if her father had done that at the start. He had not been a particularly loving man, but he had still been a good one in most ways. Freda was a woman twisted by anger, an anger strengthened by thwarted ambitions. Katerina was both surprised and ashamed that she had never noticed that about Freda until now.
“Of course, I made him pay for that arrogance.”
The look on Freda’s face made Katerina wish she could suppress the need to ask any questions, but it was impossible. She felt a strong sense of foreboding about what she might learn, but even that was not enough to make her hold her tongue. She felt almost compelled to dig out the truth no matter how chilling and ugly it might be.
“Just how do ye think ye made him pay, Freda?” she asked.
“First I took his wife.”
Katerina just stared at the woman. She hoped she looked no more than curious, perhaps a little disbelieving. Inside she wanted to scream, knowing the woman was telling the truth. Freda believed she would win this game and that Katerina would take these confessions to the grave with her.
“She wasnae having an easy time with the bairn she carried and the right mixture of herbs was all that was needed to rid her of it. Then one just had to be sure she kept getting the potion that would keep her bleeding her life away.”
“So ye feel all clever and strong because ye killed a bairn in the womb and a woman on her childbed, neither of whom had ever done ye any harm?”
“It was because of your mother that I wasnae made the lady of Dunlochan as was my right.” Freda took a deep breath as if to calm herself and continued. “I allowed the old fool one more chance to live. He could have married me once his mourning was done but he didnae. He hardly e’er looked at me and was cold and cutting whene’er I tried to approach him.”
“So ye killed him, too.”
“Aye.” She frowned. “He took a lot longer to die than I had felt he should.”
“How inconsiderate of him.”
Freda gave her a look of disgust and then took Agnes by the hand to lead her over to the table. When the woman ordered some food and drink brought for her, Agnes, and the returning Ranald, Katerina nearly screamed. Freda had murdered her family and after confessing her horrible, cold-blooded crime, she sat down to dine. Katerina found that it both frightened a
nd enraged her.
“Here, lass, I have brought ye something to drink and a wee bit of broth.”
Katerina looked up into Old Hilda’s kindly face and suddenly wanted to weep. It seemed strange to her that simply learning that her parents had been murdered should make her grieve for them all over again. She supposed it was because she now knew it had not had to happen. That it had not been some illness or the all-too-common risk of childbearing, things one could not fight against, but the act of a bitter woman. If someone had known, if someone had really looked at Freda, it may all have been avoided.
“What are ye doing?” demanded Freda in a shrill voice although she did not make any move to stop Hilda.
“I thought that when ye called for food and drink ye meant me to see to the lass,” Hilda said.
“Oh, do as ye wish. It matters little either way.”
Katerina watched Hilda breathe a sigh of relief and then whispered, “She killed them.”
“Aye, lass, I heard.” Hilda helped Katerina drink some of the cider. “She will pay for her crimes.”
“Are ye sure? She hasnae yet and it has been years.”
“Your mother was too sweet to sense danger or see a threat from another woman and your da was too arrogant to see any woman as a threat. Ye are neither.” She carefully spooned the well-spiced broth into Katerina’s mouth. “Ye have the strength your dear mother ne’er had and the wit your da often didnae. Ye also have Sir Lucas Murray and a lot of good men on your side.”
“Da had good men.”
“But he wasnae so verra good at winning the sort of loyalty ye can. He commanded it yet he gave the men no real reason to care, if ye see what I mean.”
“I think I do. Da expected things just because he was the laird, but he ne’er actually did much to earn such things as loyalty and respect. He just was the laird.”
“Exactly. His people love Dunlochan, but didnae really love him, if ye will forgive me for saying so.”
“Of course. Still, he didnae deserve to die that way.”
“Nay, he didnae.” After glancing toward Freda and the others, Hilda gently patted Katerina’s cheek. “Dinnae ye worry, lass. Ye willnae be losing this battle.”
Keeping a close watch on Freda and the others, Katerina said, “Dinnae do anything that will put ye at risk, Hilda.”
“I willnae, lass. Ye just worry about yourself.”
The moment Hilda finished feeding Katerina she gave her a wink and hurried back to the kitchen. Katerina had the feeling that the woman was going to do something to try to help her and Lucas. Although she was grateful, and would be even more so if Hilda did successfully help them, she did not like the thought that yet another one of her people was about to be in danger.
For a moment she felt as if she was drowning in guilt. She had never seen the threat Freda posed to her parents, had never questioned the cause of their deaths. She had not really seen the threat to herself until she and Lucas had been nearly killed. Now she had all her most loyal people risking their lives to try and keep her alive. And they had all been brought to this point because she had never looked too closely at Freda. It had to be her own blindness that had brought all this tragedy down on Dunlochan.
It was a while before Katerina began to pull herself out of the deep well of self-recrimination and self-pity she had sunk into. A soft voice of common sense began to grow louder and louder, drowning out the voice that wanted to blame herself for everything that had ever gone wrong at Dunlochan. It was foolish because many of the things that had gone wrong had occurred when she was still a child. The first step on the path to the tragedy that had struck down her parents had been taken when she was not yet born.
Katerina sighed and realized that some of her desire to blame herself was born of not wanting to blame her parents. Her father had bedded Freda. He was the one who had treated the woman so shamefully. And it was Freda who had turned her anger into something vicious and deadly. The only one of the adults involved in the tragedy who could be said to have been completely innocent was her mother. Katerina hated to blame her father for her mother’s death and that of the child she had carried but he was partly responsible. If nothing else, his arrogance and his belief that women were neither strong nor clever, that they could never be a threat to any man, had allowed Freda the freedom to take her deadly revenge. Even when he had been so ill, even when he realized he was dying of a disease none of the healers could understand or cure, her father had not once looked at his scorned lover with suspicion.
“Weel, we will soon see an end to all of this,” said Freda as she walked up to stand next to Katerina. “We just got word that the missive is on its way to Sir Murray.”
“Do ye have any idea of who he is?” Katerina asked, even as she struggled to recall all the tales Lucas had told her of his clan during the time he had been recovering from the wounds Ranald had given him.
“He is your lover and your champion. It makes him vulnerable. What else must I ken about the mon?”
“His clan is verra important. After he, er, died, I fully expected them to show up here in force to find him and then make us all pay for his death.”
They didnae e’en show up to make us pay for his injuries and they were verra bad from all I hear. Why should I worry about them now?”
“Lucas was the reason they didnae come here to raze Dunlochan to the ground. He wouldnae allow it. But they will do it if they wish to. If ye kill him this time, ye willnae be able to enjoy your victory for long.”
“They willnae be able to prove we were at fault”
“Are ye certain of that? Mayhap Lucas told them about all of us, about Ranald’s part in his beating and the attempt to murder him. Mayhap they ken exactly where Lucas is now and are simply allowing him the honor of exacting his own revenge. If that is so, then the moment he doesnae come home when he should or they hear he is dead, they will ken exactly where to come and who to look for.”
Agnes stepped up to glare at Katerina. “If they are so powerful and important why havenae we heard of them?”
“Because ye dinnae trouble yourself to leave the little kingdom ye have made for yourself here. If ye had e’er gone to court ye would have heard all about them. Many of their kin have gone there and they are weel respected and trusted. Few wish to challenge them.”
“Ranald, have ye heard of these Murrays?” demanded Freda.
“Some. They dinnae like to fight.”
Katerina almost laughed, but she forced herself to just keep staring at Freda. Ranald’s opinion of the Murrays was clear to hear in the few words he had uttered. The Murrays preferred to talk, to try to make peace and alliances, a fight being their last resort. To a man like Ranald that made them cowards and no one to fear. Freda looked a little doubtful, but Katerina expected she was of much the same opinion. Katerina saw power and intelligence in the way the Murrays made alliances instead of enemies. Freda and Ranald saw weakness. She prayed that would make them underestimate Lucas.
“I think Sir Lucas was probably a good fighter, but he is crippled now,” added Ranald.
“Then we have nothing to worry about.” Freda looked at Agnes. “Ye want to bed a cripple?”
Agnes shrugged. “I dinnae intend to ask him to dance, do I. If he can still walk, he can give me what I want.”
Freda sighed. “And just why do ye want him? Because Katerina has had him?”
Agnes shrugged. “As good a reason as any.” Agnes then smiled at Katerina. “At least he will ken what it means to have a real woman ere he dies.”
“Too late. He already has.” She bit back a cry of pain when Agnes slapped her.
“Let us see just how much he appreciates ye after he watches Ranald have ye.”
“Agnes, he willnae be appreciating or nay appreciating anything after that as ye mean to kill him.” She spoke as if she was trying to explain something to a very small child and could see that it enraged Agnes, but Freda stopped her daughter from delivering another slap.
“Dinnae say ye are now protecting her?” Agnes asked her mother.
“I am protecting us,” Freda said. “I always consider the possibility that something will go wrong. If it does, I would rather not have to explain why she is bruised and bleeding.”
“Ye told her all ye have done, Freda,” said Ranald as he strolled up with a tankard of ale in his hand. “If this goes wrong, I think a few bruises on Katerina will be the verra least of your troubles. This one will see ye hang for her family’s deaths.”
“Then ye had best be verra wary and ready to kill the mon.”
“If ye dinnae mind, I believe I will bring a few men in here to help ensure our victory.”
“Are ye afraid of Sir Murray? The cripple? The mon ye have thrice had at your mercy and yet failed to kill?”
“As ye say, thrice I have failed to kill him. Mayhap this time I just wish to be sure his cursed luck doesnae save him a fourth time.”
Katerina watched Ranald walk away and tried not to let his words frighten her. She would not believe that it was only luck that had saved Lucas each time Ranald had tried to kill him. She had seen Lucas fight before he had been injured and after. He was a little slower than he had been, but if Ranald faced him squarely, one on one, she had no doubt that Lucas would slaughter him. Lucas could deal with even more than one man, of that she had no doubt. She did not like the thought of him walking alone and unarmed into this nest of vipers but, if anyone could walk away the victor, Lucas could. He had one advantage they did not. He had the passages he could use and Katerina was sure that, even at that moment, Lucas was making his plans to use them to their fullest advantage.
She relaxed a little, her fear nearly gone. Lucas would come for her. He would seem to do as ordered but he would have a plan that would finally sweep these villains out of her life. These people were not clever enough or strong enough to defeat Lucas. He would come and he would be calm, cold justice, one that was long overdue.
Chapter Fifteen
Highland Savage Page 18
