Chapter Sixteen #3
Daniel snorted as Seocan shook his head and spoke.
“Ailith, William has loved ye for most of his life. He is more accepting of any perceived peculiar nature than ye are of yourself. He’d no betray ye this way.
If I know anything of William, I know this.
These accusations spring from jealousy of ye and the MacDougals, and fear over the state of the Highlands in general.
I’ll no’ let ye be a pawn in this, nor will any Gordon or MacDougal kin.
” His tone grew more stern, and he shifted around as he spoke.
“Let me see if I can get ye out of there.”
He and Daniel went to work, trying to pry up the grate, but it was well set and secured with a large brass lock.
“Lass, the grate –” Seocan seemed to stumble over his words.
“I can stay the night here, brother.”
His pasty expression through the grate blazed with absolute fury.
She had seen that look before when he discussed the Morays and mad King Donald, and anyone else who saw it would cower in fear.
And she could not bring herself to even look at Daniel.
If Seocan was her brother, Daniel stood in the stead of a father.
If Seocan’s expression was one to fear, she knew Daniel’s promised death.
Nay, they were not pleased with her predicament and would fight to the death to get her out. That one thought was enough to warm her and keep her going.
“Daniel and I will bed down with the horses next to this pit. We will no’ leave ye alone this night. And here, ‘tis a much-needed gift from Mairi.”
A gift from Mairi? Her sister-in-law who had a heavy hand in Ailith’s present occupation of the pit? What gift might she send? Poison to match her words? A snake?
Instead, Seocan threaded a dark cloth through the grate’s opening. A heavy, wool cape.
In the thin light that barely permeated the darkness, she made out the outline of the cape and its hefty thickness. Her hands brushed against a hood at one end with a finely etched wooden button to hold it all closed.
It was more than a plaid.
Mairi’s cape? Her fancy one, the one she wore for special events, like Ailith’s own wedding? What did this gift of her cape mean? Had Seocan taken it in haste? Or, more impossibly, had Mairi truly given it to him for her?
She turned her face up to her brother. Seocan gave her a flat, remorseful smile.
“’Tis from Mairi herself. She worried that ye might be in a cold dungeon and wanted ye to have something ye might use to keep warm so ye dinna fall ill.”
“Mairi sent this?” Ailith asked, not fully believing.
Mairi was the reason she was here, in this fecking pit, and now she sent a gift to warm her? Why would she do that, unless . . .
Unless she, too, was as sorry for this situation as Seocan appeared to be, and the cape was an apology.
Was such a thing possible?
Mayhap Mairi’s involvement in these witchcraft accusations wasn’t as earnest as Eoghan had led her to believe.
Hope bloomed as a fragile bubble in her chest.
She wrapped herself in the thick wool, tucking it in tight so she did not feel any cold muck against her skin, popped the hood over her head, and burrowed in like a mole in his hole.
“She is repentant for any actions her words might have caused,” Seocan explained from above. “I can tell ye her mind, but only she can give her apologies, and only ye can forgive if ye decide to do so. But she offered her finest cloak to show ye the depth of her remorse.”
Mairi regretted her words? Sorry that something she had said led to this? Maybe Ailith had misjudged her sister-in-law a bit. Even if, right now, she didn’t particularly care what Mairi felt.
A tomorrow problem, she told herself.
“Thank ye for bringing it, brother. I’m warmer already.” That was the truth. The heft of the wool kept the chill and the mud away, and she was grateful for the cape and its warmth. With any luck, her teeth might stop chattering soon.
“We are right here, lass. Try to get some sleep, and we will deal with the Grants on the morn.”
Then his head and Daniel’s disappeared from the grate.
Her chest hollowed again once they were removed from her sight, but she had something else to focus on now, something else to help keep her mind occupied and help her sleep.
If Eoghan had overemphasized or outright lied about Mairi’s involvement or opinion, perhaps he had done the same with William.
That bubble of hope grew and warmed her as much as the plaid.
With the heartening words of her brother and the warmth of the plaid cape (och, Mairi must be sorry! She sent her best plaid!), Ailith finally closed her eyes and drift into a jerking, tortured sleep.
And she dreamt again of dream-Eladon. In Ailith’s mind, she was surprised, but in her dream, young Eladon’s presence made complete sense.
This time, however, instead of swirls, her dream was in shades of blue and gray. And instead of a silhouette of Eladon in the distance, her face appeared right next to Ailith's, a dark complement to Ailith’s bright hair and skin.
But it wasn’t Eladon, and Ailith knew it never had been.
Ailith finally saw the woman up close. In addition to the dark, rich waves that cascaded over the woman’s shoulders, her eyes were darker and rounder than Eladon’s.
While that might be attributed to a difference in age, the button nose could not be.
The Romani witch from the future had boasted a sharp, pointed nose, while this woman’s pert, button nose bordered on adorable.
And the gold dots Ailith had noted were threaded coins dangling from her scarves, one midnight blue scarf she had wrapped around her waist, and a second hunter green scarf tied around the crown of her head so the tail caressed her black-brown hair that fell halfway down her back.
The woman in her dream was stunning.
Help me, Ailith called in her dream. How do I fight this?
The dream woman smiled slightly, and her voice was as billowy as her loose peasant-style blouse. You don’t. You don’t fight.
Ailith didn’t understand and shook her head. She had been taught how to fight, trained in it, and now, when her life hung in the balance, she was supposed to sit idly and watch this nightmare unfold?
And what? Do nothing?
The woman turned to face Ailith directly, her skin dusky in the pale blue landscape.
Everyone knows you can fight, but some things take more than you in combat. You will lose even if you win in this fight.
Dream-Ailith shook her head again. That doesn’t make any sense. How can that be?
The Romani dream woman moved, walking in a circle around Ailith, her bejeweled scarves tinkling as she moved.
You can’t fight. It will only make you appear exactly as guilty as they accuse you. Wait, have patience, and stay your hand. The solution will appear before you. Everything for this will be answered.
Everything for this, meaning this bizarre accusation. But what of her other questions? What of William’s loyalty?
Who are ye? Ailith asked. Now that the woman was near enough to see, perhaps that meant she was physically nearby. Maybe she was coming to bail her out of his mess? Are ye the one who will help me?
Not in this. There are things in this world that are too filthy to speak of.
They are ‘marime,’ the unspeakable, and the lies and presumptions about you are that.
But you have a community here that will help you.
Don’t fret. And in this accusation, don’t fight.
If you fight, you will only give the marime what it wants.
Don’t give the marime your time or thoughts.
The woman’s words were like the wind in her hair, present then gone so quickly, and Ailith struggled to understand them.
Then why are ye here? Why are ye reaching out?
The woman stopped circling and stood in front of her again. The night sky filled with stars reflected in the round orbs of her black eyes.
If you don’t fight, you will win.
It made no sense. How can ye know that? It was absurd to Ailith that fighting was the one thing she shouldn’t do, no matter what her dream woman said.
I know because I am touched. I can see what one should not and know what others cannot.
Why are ye reaching out to me? Are ye in England? In her previous dreams, Ailith had the sense that her dream Romani woman was nearer than the European continent. In her dream, she was sure she had seen the woman walking along the beach in England.
I am coming. But if you want to meet me, you must survive. Do as I say, and you will win the battle. Don’t fight.
Then the woman’s image thinned, becoming transparent before the figure, like her voice, and faded into nothing more than a wisp on the wind.
Ailith’s last thought before full sleep claimed her was the advice the Romani woman Eladon had given her before Ailith voyaged here.
Your dreams will speak to you, guide you, and lead you. Pay attention to them.
As much as the advice of the dream Romani made no sense, Ailith swore to herself she would do as the woman commanded.
For once in her life, she would not fight.