Chapter 8
“Where is that child?” demanded Old Bega as she stomped into the hall where Reid and Ilsabeth worked on his numbers. “I cannae find the bairn anywhere. She was with me in the kitchen and then she was gone.”
Ilsabeth felt a tickle of worry cut through her high spirits.
She had woken up in Simon’s arms for the third morning in a row and was finally certain that he was no longer running from her.
He had not even crept from the bed like some thief in the night but lingered to make love to her again.
She was not fool enough to mistake his passion or sweet words for love, but she was hopeful that she would soon know both.
Ilsabeth could not believe that a man could make love to a woman as he did her and hold her throughout the night without feeling more for her than simply passion.
“Mayhap she is but playing hide-and-go-seek with ye,” said Ilsabeth. “Elen does love that game.”
“I dinnae think so. We had a wee talk about how she must let us all ken if ‘tis time to play that game and she has been verra good at doing so. And she isnae verra good at hiding, is she, yet me and MacBean cannae find her. And Bonegnasher cannae find her either.”
That tickle of worry flared up into a chilling fear. The dog was an excellent hunter. It should have had no trouble at all finding a tiny girl who often gave her hiding place away by giggling. The fact that the dog found nothing was alarming.
“Come along, Reid,” said Ilsabeth as she stood up, doing her best to hide her sudden fear from the boy. “We need to find your sister.”
An hour later, Ilsabeth had to agree with Old Bega.
The child was not in the house. Ilsabeth was now fighting the urge to run outside yelling Elen’s name.
She set Bonegnasher to tracking the child again and the dog ended up at the kitchen door, scratching on the wood and whining.
Once outside, the animal went straight to the garden gate, which was wide open, and waited for her to tell him to come back or continue on the hunt.
Since she could not loose the dog in the town without someone at its side, she called it back.
“She has gone awandering,” said Reid, his eyes wide with fear for his sister. “I have told her again and again that she shouldnae do that and she will be good for a wee while but then she does it again. She could get hurt. I dinnae think she understands that.”
“Aye, she could, and the verra young take time to see that there is a lot of danger out there, but we will find her,” said Ilsabeth as she hurried back into the house to change into her nun’s attire.
“Bega, MacBean,” she said as she entered the kitchen, “Elen has gotten out through the garden gate. We shall all need to search for her.”
“Nay, ye must stay here,” said MacBean. “Ye cannae risk being seen again.”
“'Tis nay a risk–”
“It is and dinnae try to tell me it isnae. Ye were seen when ye went out in that nun’s gown. That means the soldiers will be looking about for a blue-eyed nun. Aye, them and anyone else who has heard the tale. We dinnae exactly have a lot of nuns about this place, ye ken. We will take the dog–”
“Ye cannae do that. Ye cannae let anyone make a connection atween Elen and Simon. He hasnae said that plain, but he hasnae let anyone ken that the children are here, either. Weel, except for Donald, who willnae dare speak of it, and Tormand, who can be trusted. I am thinking Simon fears I may have been seen when I first came here. Now that ye tell me that ye dinnae see many nuns, I can see that that is a possibility.”
MacBean cursed. “Another reason ye cannae start running about the town dressed as a nun again.”
That and the fact that she had more or less promised Simon that she would not do so, but MacBean did not need to know that. “Then I shall dress as naught but a poor maid with my hair covered as many of the wedded lasses cover theirs. Verra few people pay any heed to a poor maid.”
Ignoring MacBean’s stuttered protests, Ilsabeth hurried to her room, Old Bega at her heels.
Together they got her dressed quickly, her hair braided and hidden beneath a kerchief.
It was a thin disguise but, if anyone was looking for her at the moment, they were looking for a blue-eyed nun, not a servant.
The disguise would work long enough for her to find Elen.
Simon was going to be angry, she thought as she headed back down the stairs. For a brief moment she considered sending him a message and waiting for him to come and help find Elen. She quickly shook that thought aside. There was no time. Elen had been missing for too long already.
Both she and Old Bega ignored MacBean’s continued complaints.
He finally gave up the fight when Ilsabeth sent him and Bega off in two different directions while she and Reid went in a third one.
There was a very pretty little girl wandering the streets of the town and they all knew how many dangers such a child could face.
It was growing dark by the time she and Reid saw Elen.
Ilsabeth’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched the man Elen spoke to stroke the little girl’s bright hair.
It could be an innocent touch but Ilsabeth’s heart and mind were both clamoring danger.
There was something about the way the man acted with Elen that was just wrong.
Elen was not smiling at the man, either, and she smiled at everyone.
Before she could think of a quiet way to extract Elen from the man, Reid started to run toward them.
The hard, angry look upon his young face told Ilsabeth that he might well know exactly what sort of danger his sister was in.
Ilsabeth cursed and hurried after him before he could start a confrontation that would draw a lot of attention, but feared she would be too late.
“Dinnae touch her,” yelled Reid as he grabbed Elen by the arm and yanked her back, away from the man.
“Here now, laddie, what are ye doing?” said the man, his plump face twisting into a scowl. “I was just helping the wee lass. She is lost, aye?”
“She doesnae need your sort of help.” Reid kicked the man in the shins, causing the man to howl in pain and anger. “I ken what ye are. Ye werenae going to help her at all. Ye just wanted to–”
“Reid,” Ilsabeth snapped as she reached the boy, and then she gasped as the man backhanded Reid across the face. “Dinnae touch that boy!”
“The wee bastard kicked me!” The man reached for Elen. “And he was trying to steal away with the lass.”
“That lass is his sister.” Ilsabeth pushed Elen behind her. “We have been looking for her for hours.”
For a moment the man just frowned and studied her and Reid, who now stood at her side.
Then his too pale eyes narrowed and he gave Ilsabeth a smile that made her skin crawl.
She knew what he saw, a woman and two children who clearly had less money and power than he did.
He looked at Elen and then back at Ilsabeth.
She had to wonder just how many little girls he had gotten his hands on in this way and it made her stomach churn.
“Ach, now, lass, I am thinking ye could use a wee bit of coin, aye? Too many mouths to feed and all that. Why dinnae I just make the burden on your shoulders a wee bit lighter. I will pay ye for the lass here. A wee bit of training and she will make a fine servant in my house.”
“I wouldnae sell ye a sick goat, ye pig,” snapped Ilsabeth, trying not to think of how many other little girls he had bought this way, offering a false future for a daughter to some poor mother.
“Ye cannae hide what ye are. E’en the lad saw it.
Ye ought to be nailed to a wall where all can pass and spit on ye. ”
The man’s face went so red she thought he might collapse at her feet.
Instead he swung one meaty fist toward her head.
Ilsabeth ducked the blow and pushed Elen toward Reid.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see several of the king’s soldiers watching them with far too much interest for her liking.
At the moment all they could see was her back.
If they came any closer they could see her eyes and too many people had told her they were memorable.
This was not a good time to test the truth of that.
She had to end this quickly and flee but the way the man began to curse her told her that would not be an easy task.
Offers of money had not worked and now he was intent upon using intimidation and brute force.
Simon heard the sound of an argument even before he saw who was making all the noise.
Shock brought him to a halt as he saw a woman and two children confronting a man who was doing his best to hit the woman or the boy, all the while trying to grab the little girl away from her protectors.
The children were easy to recognize and that told Simon who the woman dodging the man’s flailing fists was.
Ilsabeth had obviously found herself a new disguise but it had not kept her out of trouble any more than the last one had.
He was beginning to think she attracted trouble the way a table attracted dust.
This time was worse for there were half a dozen soldiers watching the battle with keen interest.
Cursing as he watched the soldiers start toward Ilsabeth and the others, Simon hurried to get there first. At the moment, Ilsabeth was turned away from the soldiers and that might be all that saved her.
He grabbed the man swinging at her by the wrist, halting the blow that had been aimed at Ilsabeth’s face.
The man tried to wrench free but Simon tightened his grip until the man paled and stood still, finally realizing how close he was to having his wrist snapped. Then he looked at Ilsabeth.