Chapter Fifteen #2
“Though I am angry that ye felt the need to gossip this way about my own sister, did we no’ all do the same type of thing about William and use those suggestions to bring him low?
To mock his love for Ailith? And did we no’ permit those rumors of Ailith to grow ourselves?
I –” He flicked his eyes to Daniel. “We are no better.”
Then he pulled on her hands to draw her into his embrace, and her entire body, her too-thin body, crumpled into him. He pressed his face into her smooth, black tresses.
“Do ye believe her a changeling or a witch?” he whispered.
“Nay!” Mairi exclaimed in a ragged voice. “Odd, and aye, she charmed William, but no more than I charmed ye!”
He chuckled against her hair. “And och, that did ye, lass.”
His words broke the tension in the room, and he felt like he could breathe again.
“But nay a witch,” she finished firmly in a tone reminiscent of his strong Mairi.
Seocan straightened and caught her gaze.
“Ye will have to make retribution to her, but for now, we must get through this.” He turned to Daniel, who was already prepared to ride.
Seocan realized that Daniel would have ridden to save Ailith without him if he had not roused from his sleep.
“Come. We’ll send a messenger to William at Drumoak in case he does no’ yet know, informing him that we are also on our way. ”
Seocan tugged his tunic over his head as he spoke, and when his head popped through the neck opening, Mairi stood directly in front of him, deeply contrite and holding out her thick, green and blue plaid hooded cape.
Her best plaid. Immediately, Seocan recognized it for what it was, a peace offering for Mairi’s unintended actions.
“If she is in the gaol or a dungeon, ‘twill be wet and cold. Please give my plaid to Ailith.”
Her offering bled away a bit of his ire over what her ill words had wrought for his sister. He took the plaid, then cupped his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her face close to his.
“We will return with her. Dinna fret, and once she is returned, let us move on from this, aye?” Seocan’s voice was tender.
He forgave his wife – of course, he would. What else might he do when she had not intended anything foul with her gossip? Who could imagine mere words would be taken to this extreme?
He had to hope that Ailith was as forgiving. Her reaction was out of his hands.
“And know this, my love. I will always, always return to ye.”
Mairi’s eyes were downcast as she nodded at his words. Then he pulled her lips to his and kissed her, sealing his forgiveness with a gentle kiss that told her more than his words ever could. She wrapped her arms around his waist and returned the kiss with ardor.
Tactfully, Daniel cleared his throat.
Seocan withdrew, and with a final, encouraging smile at Mairi and a flick of his gaze to the babe still impossibly sleeping in the cradle, he strode out the door, grabbing his broadsword from the wall as he left.
Seocan and Daniel kicked the horses’ flanks, urging them on in a full gallop.
Their intense gazes focused on the road toward the Grants, a dark path in the misty, cloud-obscured night.
They agreed that James Grant must be away from his lands or indisposed, otherwise he would have put an immediate stop to these actions.
“If James is no’ present, could we bring in an abbot or priest to speak on her behalf?” Daniel asked over the echoing sounds of hooves crashing to the ground. “Someone to counter their misguided abbot?”
“Who? The only one I know who is close by is Finian, and he’s naught more than a monastic culdee hermit. Many believe him to be crazier than any witch and comparable more to the old pagan druids than any monk. Nay. He’d no’ do us any good. And most other priests try to avoid the issue altogether.”
“Anyone else then?”
“A rider is on his way to the MacDougals to bring William, and with him Cormag and Bernard, most likely. But other than that, nay. I fear that the Grants are using this as a means to get back at Ailith for some personal offense.” Seocan lifted an eyebrow at Daniel as he leaned over his horse’s neck.
“Any ideas whom she might have slighted so terribly?”
Daniel lifted his head and gazed into the black horizon. “Ye know the rumors of her fighting skills and her plants.”
Seocan pressed farther over his steed’s neck. “A weak reason for something this dire, and William has tried to squash those rumors. But after what happened at Stonehaven with the Keiths . . .” He trailed off.
Seocan understood the poor light that fight had shone upon Ailith.
It set fire to the kindling rumors. What woman bested a larger man with naught but a stick and a knife?
A bow and arrow, maybe. A shieldmaiden if Ailith was Norse, but a properly raised chieftain’s sister?
Though he did not agree with nor see the event the same way others had, he could not deny the impression the fight had left on many.
“The tale made the rounds through the Highlands,” Daniel continued. “And her assistance with the entry to Dunnottar to defeat the mad King. Surely some have whispered about that in the shadows.” Daniel’s gaze dropped to his horse galloping beneath him. “Little is secret in the Highlands.”
“And simple jealousy, or a slight, or a grievance,” Seocan offered. “What if kin or a loved one died in that battle, and they lay the blame on Ailith? Witchcraft is a fine way to deal with a problem, if not eliminate it completely.”
“Surely ye dinna believe they would kill her? The church has no’ strong stance on witchcraft or the pagans other than conversion, and many shame those who believe in it as letting superstition be stronger than their Christian faith. ‘Twill be a fine that must be paid, for certain. Naught more.”
Daniel’s words held sound reason, but his voice lacked conviction.
Seocan narrowed his eyes. “No’ if the slight is significant, or if ‘twas against someone of power, someone highborn or close to a chieftain or the King himself. Then she might be imprisoned for the rest of her life.”
He did not add the words or worse. He did not have to.
Daniel, who often considered Ailith as his own daughter, blanched at the thought as his hands tightened on the reins. “Nay, they would no’ –”
Like Seocan, he did not finish the thought.
“And neither the Gordons or MacDougals, or even the MacIntoshes, would abide by that,” Seocan responded. “Yet how difficult do ye believe ‘twould be to have someone die in a dungeon? Nay difficult at all.”
A dark shadow crossed Daniel’s face as his hand drifted to his sword hilt.
“If ‘tis such an outcome, I will slay every last Grant. I will slay them all.”