Silver Flame

Chapter 14

S ine clenched her hands together tightly in her lap as the Brodie messenger was led into the great hall of Duncoille. She struggled to remain calm. The people seated with her at the head table gave her some help. She could depend upon the experience of Lords William and Thomas. Gamel, his three brothers, Blane, and Sir Lesley offered their strength. Lady Edina and Margot gave her sympathy. Farthing, she mused as she glanced at him, shared her deep love for the twins.

She had slept very little after Gamel had urged her from the parapets of Duncoille and back into their bedchamber. As he held her close throughout the night, she had concentrated on regaining her strength and will to fight. She had carefully considered every possibility, even the ones she dreaded, and prepared herself to meet them. When the morning had finally come, she had felt able to face anything. At breakfast Lord William had carefully instructed her on what to say when the messenger came.

Now Sine stared cooly at the Brodies’ man as he bowed, cleared his throat, and began to speak. “I am Andrew Moore, a messenger in the service of Dorchabeinn. I have been sent to inform ye that Lord and Lady Brodie have taken possession of the late Lord Brodie’s bastards, Beldane and Barre.”

“Have they?” Farthing smiled coldly. “And we are to simply accept their word on that, are we?”

The short, heavy-muscled man stepped a little closer and held out a small silver medallion. “Lady Brodie believes that this will serve as adequate proof of her claim.”

Farthing took the medallion and studied it. Sine could tell by his faint loss of color and the way his jawline tightened that the medallion was Beldane’s. It had been given to the boy by their father to mark him as the firstborn. When Farthing held it out toward her, she shook her head. She did not need to look at it. Neither did she want to unclasp her hands, for she feared they might tremble and she did not want to expose any weakness.

“Aye, ’tis proof enough,” Farthing said. “What does Lady Brodie want?”

“Her other child. Although she loves all children and is hurt by her daughter’s fears and accusations, she will agree to release the boys if Sine Catriona returns to her.”

“And are we to believe in her word?” asked Sine.

“Lady Arabel Brodie’s word is her bond,” Andrew Moore said in a strong, firm voice. “As is Lord Malise’s.”

Sine shook her head. “I dearly hope ye dinnae really believe your fine words, Master Moore, or ye are a doomed mon. Half of Scotland has proof that the word of the Brodies is as empty as a beggar’s belly. I certainly wouldnae ever accept the word of Arabel or Malise without great hesitation.”

“Am I to tell my masters that ye willnae return to Dorchabeinn?”

“Ye are to tell your masters that I must consider the matter. I need some time ere I can make any decision.” She almost felt pity for the man; he looked frightened at the thought of returning to Dorchabeinn empty-handed.

“How much time?”

“Two days. If I dinnae appear at the gates of Dorchabeinn by sunset on the morrow ’twill mean that I have decided I dinnae like Lady Brodie’s terms. She can then decide if she wishes to offer me some new ones.”

The man bowed and left. As soon as the doors of the great hall closed behind Arabel’s messenger, Sine slumped in her seat. She felt weak, as if all her strength had been drained out of her. When Gamel urged her to drink some wine, she smiled faintly and took a sip from the tankard he pressed into her hands.

“Ye did the only thing ye could do,” he said, taking her hand in his and brushing a light kiss over her knuckles.

“Aye, but ’twas the hardest thing I have e’er done. ’Twas nearly impossible not to see my words as a cruel betrayal of my own brothers. And then I could all too easily imagine Arabel’s reaction to my refusal. She will be incensed and my poor brothers could weel suffer dearly for it.”

“What ye do or dinnae do will make verra little difference to how they suffer,” Lady Edina said. “’Tis a harsh truth, but one it may help ye to remember.”

“Aye, and I tell it to myself often. It does help to ease the guilt I feel. I but pray that my brothers will understand.”

“They will, lass,” Farthing said. “They will turn whatever anger or blame they may feel upon those who so richly deserve it—the Brodies. Dane and Ree have the wit to ken that naught will be gained if ye blindly walk into Arabel’s trap. In fact, I wouldnae be surprised to learn that the woman has made her vile plans verra clear to the poor lads.”

“Aye, she probably has. She would do so in the hope that it would terrify them. Arabel has always enjoyed seeing fear in others.” She frowned. “’Tis somewhat of a surprise that Martin Robertson didnae act as her messenger.”

“And not a verra nice surprise either,” muttered Margot.

Sine sent the girl a sympathetic look. “True. Martin always performed such errands for Arabel and Malise in the past. One has to ask oneself why it was different this time. I fear the answer to that question may not be good.”

“Martin once told me that he believed that they had already begun to suspect him.”

“That would certainly explain why he wasnae used on this errand.”

“Ye dinnae think they have hurt him, do ye?” Margot asked in a small voice.

“I wish I could say nay without any doubt, but I fear that I cannae. I am sorry.”

“There is no need for ye to apologize. Ye cannae take on the guilt of your kinsmen. Nay, nor of Martin. If he is in danger now, ’tis mostly his own fault. If he isnae already dead, then it is how he acts now which is most important. Will he let his fear direct him again and just flee Dorchabeinn, or will he stand firm and help us?” She shrugged. “I heartily pray that he chooses the latter.”

“So do we, lass,” said Gamel. “’Twould be an assistance we should be verra grateful to receive. Howbeit, we must continue to act as if we have no one to rely upon but ourselves.”

“Now that we ken what Arabel’s game is, what is your plan?” Sine asked Gamel.

“Farthing, Blane, Sir Lesley, and I shall leave for Dorchabeinn in just a few hours. That will allow us to arrive there by nightfall. We shall perform a little reconnaissance during the night. ’Tis always wise to ken the land of the enemy ere ye ride into it. If God so pleases, we may e’en discover a weakness which will aid us. Come the morning, lass, ye and a small force from Duncoille shall start on your own journey to Dorchabeinn. We will meet up together a few miles north of Dorchabeinn and that is where we shall make our final plans about the best way to confront the Brodies.” He watched her warily as she considered all that he had said.

“’Tisnae really much of a plan, is it?” she murmured.

“There is more to it, dearling, but—again—there are some things that simply cannae be determined until we have had a chance to closely study Dorchabeinn.”

“Are ye absolutely sure ye must do this study?” She did not like the thought that Gamel and Farthing would be drawing so close to the treacherous Brodies without a well-armed force of men right behind them.

“Weel, as I said, we cannae ride in there blind. Aye, we have some information on the strength and habits of the guards at Dorchabeinn, but we would all feel a great deal more at ease if some of our own people had a wee look at the place ere we ride up to the gates.”

It still did not sound like much of a plan to Sine, but she said no more. The men had all had years of experience in battle. They all seemed very confident. She would do her part as well as she could and pray that their confidence was justified.

Sine clutched her cloak more tightly around herself as a chill breeze curled around the walls of Duncoille. She stared out over the parapets, south toward Dorchabeinn, and prayed. Everyone she cared about was now within Arabel’s murderous grasp. Gamel and Farthing had left just a few hours ago, and the woman already held the twins as well. The mere thought of that made Sine feel nauseous with fear. A soft footfall drew her out of her dark thoughts and she turned to find Margot at her side.

“Have ye come to gaze uselessly toward Dorchabeinn as weel?” she asked.

Margot smiled briefly. “Aye. I also saw ye up here and thought ye may be in need of some companionship. If ye would rather be alone, I will not be offended.”

“Nay. Stay. ’Tis a lovely night, if a wee bit cool when the wind stirs. Soon the cold will come. Fall draws near and winter isnae far behind and why am I babbling on and on about the cursed weather?”

“Ye are worried about what may happen at Dorchabeinn.”

“Aye, mayhaps. Ye have your own fears about that, dinnae ye?”

“Some. I try not to let them prey upon my mind. ’Tisnae the same trouble as ye have. The one I worry about isnae an innocent victim of the Brodies’ greed. I cannae help him either. He must choose his path himself. All I can do is pray that he chooses the right path this time and that the Brodies allow him to live long enough to do so. I have but one person I love in danger, although I care for all of the people caught o’er there. Ye have your brothers, Farthing, and your husband to think about. Everyone who is dearest to ye is at Dorchabeinn. I couldnae bear it.”

“I keep telling myself that God couldnae allow Arabel and Malise to win.”

“Nay, He couldnae.” Margot placed her hand over Sine’s where it gripped the rim of the wall tightly. “All those ye love will return to ye. Justice demands it. Do ye also think about what ye will do when all of this is finally over?”

“I shall have to try and clear the name of Brodie and banish the darkness which has hung over Dorchabeinn for so many years.”

“’Tisnae enough that the ones who caused such harm are gone?”

“Nay. I am their kinswomon.”

“How can ye mend such damage?”

“There are many ways. I cannae bring back the dead, but I can undo other crimes. I can return what has been stolen and work to cleanse any names that have been sullied.”

Margot nodded, then asked softly, “And what of Sir Gamel, your husband?”

“What do ye mean?” Sine asked, tensing slightly.

“I am not really sure.” Margot’s smile was a little crooked. “I but have the feeling that ye dinnae intend to remain his wife.” She waved her hand. “No need to speak. ’Tis a strange thought and I cannae guess how it entered my head. ’Tis also none of my concern.”

Sine stared at Margot for a moment, a little astounded by the girl’s insightfulness. She had such an urge to talk to someone about all that she felt that it actually hurt. With a sigh, she turned around, leaning back up against the parapet and staring down into the bailey. Mayhaps, she thought wryly, it would be good to talk it all out with Margot. When she had to end her marriage to Gamel, he might well demand some explanation.

“Will ye swear not to speak to anyone about what I tell ye now?” she asked.

“Aye, of course I will swear, if ye are verra sure that ye want to tell me at all.”

“I need to say it to someone.” Sine ran a hand through her hair. “Nay, I dinnae intend to remain Gamel’s wife.”

“Ye dinnae love him?”

“Oh, aye, I love him. I am almost certain of it now. Weel, at least as certain as I can be, considering that the mon hasnae given me one wee moment to think clearly since I first set eyes on him. It doesnae matter—neither what I feel or what he may feel for me. I cannae allow it to matter.”

“But why? Such feelings are verra important. They shouldnae be cast aside or ignored,” Margot urged, gently grasping Sine by the arm. “What could possibly make ye wish to turn away from love when there are so many who are starved for it?”

“My heritage,” Sine whispered. “I am my mother’s child.”

“Ye said that once before. She didnae have the raising of ye, Sine.”

“Nay, but her tainted blood runs through my veins.” She met Margot’s wide-eyed stare. “I carry that evil seed within me.”

“Mayhaps it will ne’er affect ye. Mayhaps it isnae e’en there. Ye carry your father’s blood as weel and he was a good mon. His name is honored. That is also your heritage.”

“True.” Sine felt slightly comforted by Margot’s words, but she knew that it was not good enough. “Howbeit, I cannae ignore the fact that part of me comes from Arabel.” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “I see the truth of that every time I peek into a looking glass. ’Tis Arabel who stares out at me. ’Tis Arabel’s hair, Arabel’s eyes, Arabel’s face.”

“That doesnae mean that ye will become just like Arabel in nature.”

“I pray that I am not and ne’er will be, but the chance is there. That is why I must leave Gamel and why, someday, I may have to send the twins far away from me. I couldnae bear to turn upon the ones I love. ’Twould kill me to see Gamel look at me with loathing or to see fear and hurt in my brothers’ eyes. And, if I do carry that bad seed, I could pass it along to whatever children Gamel and I might have.” Sine shuddered. “’Tis a thought too dreadful to consider.”

“Could ye not just wait until ye see it begin to happen?”

“I dinnae think it is something ye can see. Nay, I must leave Gamel ere I hurt him or those he cares about.”

“I think ye will hurt Sir Gamel when ye end the marriage,” Margot said as she slumped against the wall by Sine’s side. “But ye must ken that for yourself.”

“Weel—aye and nay. I havenae allowed any talk between us about how we feel, not even of our marriage. ’Tis rather a surprise to me that Gamel hasnae pressed the matter more vigorously. I just felt that it would be much kinder to keep silent and thus leave him with his pride intact. ’Tis sure that he would be deeply hurt if he spoke of whate’er is in his heart and I repaid those sweet words with an annulment.”

Margot winced and nodded. “And if ye had spoke any sweet words to him, after he left he would think they were lies and be painfully confused. Being kind isnae always easy, is it?”

Sine laughed softly and shook her head. “Nay, curse it. I have ached to speak my heart so many times, only to have to bite back the words. Sometimes I have even had to pretend not to hear what he has said, for fear of revealing something of what I am feeling. So, we let our passion rage and keep all else to ourselves.”

“It sounds verra sad. Do ye mean to spend the rest of your life alone?” Margot asked.

Sine shrugged. “I think I must. If I dinnae wish to do the harm which my mother has done, then I must place myself in seclusion.”

Margot bit her bottom lip lightly, studying Sine intently for a moment before asking, “Will that be enough? If ye do carry the same evil which taints Lady Arabel, will ye not break that vow of seclusion? Ye willnae care anymore, will ye?”

A chill went through Sine’s body that had nothing to do with the slowly falling temperature. She felt as if she might drown in the hopelessness that washed over her. She could not bear to believe that she might give up everything that meant anything to her and still end up hurting people just as Arabel did.

“God couldnae be so cruel,” she whispered. “Jesu, Margot, if I turn away from all that I want, from all that I love, then God must spare me from the torment of committing the sins my mother has.”

Margot briefly clasped Sine’s hand in hers. “I have often heard talk of bad seeds, of tainted blood. It troubles me, yet I cannae say that I believe it with all my heart. For each child who is born of a bad parent and grows up to be equally bad, there is another who grows up to be a good and honorable person. There are many of us who can point to some rogue amongst our kinsmen yet the whole family doesnae become tainted in the same way.”

“Arabel Brodie is far more than a rogue.”

“Ye dinnae plan to tell Gamel any of this, do ye?”

“Nay. He would undoubtedly try to dispute it all. He would try to convince me that there is no chance that I could become like Arabel. And he could convince me because I so want to stay with him. It makes my head ache just to think about it.”

Margot shivered and held her cloak more tightly around herself. “I think we had best go back inside the keep.” When Sine nodded, they linked arms and began to walk back toward the keep itself. “Ye must do what ye think is necessary, but I wish ye would speak with someone else about it. I ken so verra little…”

“Ye ken more than ye realize, Margot. I pray that Martin Robertson has the wit to recognize all that he would gain if he but chooses the right path.”

“Thank ye. And I shall pray for ye, Sine. I shall pray verra hard that ye are wrong, that although ye look like Lady Arabel there is none of that woman’s poison in ye.”

Gamel turned his head to scowl through the dark at Farthing, who kept shifting around. They were at the edge of the woods bordering the cleared lands encircling Dorchabeinn. From the moment they had reached their hiding place to try to study the movements of the guards upon the walls, Farthing had not been still. Gamel began to wish he had paired himself with Blane or Sir Lesley, both of whom had wended their way around to the southern side of Dorchabeinn. Instead, he lay on an uncomfortable patch of ground next to a man who had contracted an irritating and continuous twitch.

“Cannae ye be still, curse your eyes?” he hissed.

“I think I am lying on top of a thistle,” muttered Farthing.

“Weel, endure it. There is far more at stake here than your comfort.”

Farthing edged a little to the right. “I believe I realize that more keenly than ye do. I raised those lads.” He looked toward Gamel. “As I raised Sine.”

A brief curse escaped Gamel and he glared through the dark at Farthing. They had been lurking around Dorchabeinn for several hours, but had accomplished very little. Gamel knew that frustration was feeding his irritation with Farthing, but he decided not to fight it. If nothing else, a squabble with Farthing would help to distract him from his own fears and doubts about the chances of beating Arabel and Malise.

“Ye need not keep reminding me of the place ye hold in Sine’s life. ’Twould be verra nice, howbeit, if ye would keep your long nose out of our lives from time to time. I might have a wee bit more luck in wooing her if ye werenae always lurking close at hand.”

“Wooing her? What need do ye have to do that? She is your wife.”

“For now. I ken that ye were told of the promise I had to make. Weel, Sine still hasnae agreed to remain my wife when this trouble is at an end.”

“I begin to question why she should. A lass like Sine needs a husband with some sense.”

“And just what do ye mean by that?”

“’Tis clear that ye have verra few wits rattling about in your head. If ye had any ye would ken how she feels about ye and about the marriage.”

“If ye two raise your voices a wee bit higher, they can enjoy this bickering in Dorchabeinn,” drawled a voice from behind Gamel and Farthing.

Gamel flipped onto his back and drew his sword. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Farthing do the same. For a moment, all he could see was that the man leaning against a tree a foot or two away had his arms held out to the sides and there were no weapons in his hands. It took Gamel a little longer to recognize the man as Martin Robertson. He relaxed somewhat, but did not yet resheath his sword.

“How long have ye been standing there?” asked Gamel, sitting up slightly and idly brushing off his clothes.

“Long enough to see that your spying has served only to leave ye empty-handed and angry.”

“We arenae here alone.”

“I ken it. Your two companions are watching the southern walls and have had as little luck.” Martin sat down facing Farthing and Gamel. “They willnae discover verra much either. At sunset Dorchabeinn is shut up tight and no one, absolutely no one, is allowed in or out.”

“Then how is it that ye are outside?” demanded Farthing as he sat up, put away his sword and began to pluck thistles off of his clothes. “Were ye locked out at sunset?”

“Nay. I slipped out. There is an escape route, which should come as no real surprise. Most places have one, and the Brodies are in need of one far more than most.”

“So ye never get locked out, hmmm?” Farthing muttered a curse as he yanked a thistle out of his hair.

“Oh, aye, I do. Arriving late is often a difficult thing to plan for, and if one doesnae secure the door to the passage it cannae be opened from without—only within. If ye let it shut behind ye, ye will be locked out.”

“And do ye mean to show us this passage?” asked Gamel, struggling to not let his hopes grow too high.

“Aye. All I need to ken is whether ye wish to slip inside now or wait until ye have a few more men with ye.”

“Why should we trust ye? It could be a trap ye are trying to lure us into.”

Martin smiled faintly. “It could be, but it isnae.” He shrugged. “What else can I say? I offer ye a chance to get within the walls of Dorchabeinn and gain the advantage o’er your enemies. I offer ye a chance to save the twins. All I can do is give ye my solemn word that I plan no treachery. The decision of whether to trust me or not is all yours.”

“Mayhaps if ye offer us a reason for your change in loyalty we can better decide whether we should put our lives into your hands.”

“’Tisnae so simple to explain. There are many reasons—some good, some selfish, and some I dinnae much understand myself. I realized last evening when the lads were brought before Arabel and Malise that I have earned the mistrust and suspicion of the Brodies.”

“We suspected as much when ye werenae sent to Duncoille as their messenger.”

“’Twas that which told me that Arabel has ceased to consider the matter of my trustworthiness and decided against me. ’Twas that which told me that I am a dead mon. E’en if I decided to stand back and allow Arabel to win this battle, I wouldnae long survive the twins and Sine.” He cocked his head slightly to one side as he studied Gamel. “Nor would ye, m’friend. I thought to buy ye some time by reminding Arabel and Malise that just as ye can claim Sine as wife, so can ye claim all that she owns.”

“And did it buy any time?”

“Who can say? Malise grew deeply thoughtful, but Arabel just demanded that ye be killed as weel. There does seem to be more behind her wish for your death than whatever claims ye may be able to lay upon Dorchabeinn. Ye have inspired her hate by ignoring her invitations at Duncoille that day and then standing between her and Sine. Howbeit, Malise may yet convince Arabel to move with a wee bit more caution, although he has had less and less influence o’er the woman of late.”

“Her madness probably grows too strong to be tempered, but all of that matters little right now.” Gamel leaned forward, trying to read Martin’s face more clearly despite the shadows. “So, ye have decided to aid us because your masters have turned upon ye. Ye mean to slight them first.”

Martin grimaced. “Mayhaps. After all the years of service I have given them that they could so easily discard me breaks all bonds in my eyes. I have sold my verra soul for them and they repay me with the threat of death. To be loyal after such a slap is to be a fool. I also thought that, ere I died, I might be able to do some good. Aye, and I would have the pleasure of stealing a victory from that shewolf, Arabel.”

“Not exemplary reasons, but believable ones,” murmured Farthing. “And Margot is an understanding lass.”

“Aye, almost to a fault,” Martin agreed, and sighed. “I would be lying if I didnae confess that pleasing her, mayhaps bettering myself in her eyes, had something to do with my choice. There is also the matter of the lads.”

“Have they been harmed?” demanded Farthing.

“Weel, they arenae dead. I fear they have been knocked about some. Arabel enjoys that sort of thing. The children of Dorchabeinn have always been kept out of her sight. Mayhaps wee Sine Catriona can find some comfort in the knowledge that she isnae the only child Arabel hates.”

“She just hates Sine the most.”

“Aye, and ’tis a chilling thing to see. She loathes the twins too. They are living proof that her grip upon Sine’s father wasnae as tight as she had thought. Arabel has been in the brightest of humors since she got her hands on them. Even the return of Andrew Moore without Sine Catriona didnae really change that. Aye, Arabel was enraged, but not for long. She is verra, verra confident that she holds the perfect lure to attract Sine into her grasp.”

“I fear she may have a reason for such confidence.”

“Aye, I can recall Sine with the lads ere they disappeared from Dorchabeinn. She was only a child herself, but she was already a mother to them. I kenned that they were going to run away from Arabel, but I said naught. ’Twas for the same reason I am forced to act now. I cannae be part of the murder of children. With the others, I could always tell myself that they werenae so verra innocent themselves, that greed or lust had led them astray, and that they had the strength and skill to fight if they chose to. ’Twas mon against mon, adult against adult. But children? The boys are barely nine years of age. They cannae fight Arabel and Malise. Children are innocents. They are to be protected. It chills me to the bone to think of staining my hands with the blood of bairns.”

Martin stared at the two men he faced, waiting for some sign that they believed him. In aiding the Logans and Sine he was casting aside all he had ever known. He was reaching out for another chance. Nothing could fully absolve him of the wrongs he had committed for Arabel and Malise, but he ached to at least try for some absolution. He also feared that, if they refused to believe and trust him, the twins could never be saved.

“Where does this secret passageway lead?” Farthing asked. He glanced quickly at Gamel, who nodded and finally resheathed his sword.

“It winds through the inner walls of Dorchabeinn and opens into the steward’s chambers.”

“Which is near the great hall?”

“Aye, mere steps away from it.”

“Do Arabel and Malise ken where this passage is?”

“They do, but I believe they often forget about it. They worry more about keeping people out of Dorchabeinn than about escaping themselves. ’Tis why they secure the gates at sunset. Aye, ’tis true that most folk do the same, but Arabel wouldnae let her own mother in. Since the passageway cannae be opened from outside, without the aid of some traitor from within, they pay it little heed. There are no living traitors within Dorchabeinn.” He gave a short, faintly bitter laugh. “Weel, until now. And who kens how long this one will live?”

“If ye can elude being killed until the morrow, ye will survive their mistrust,” said Gamel. “Now, shall we make our plans so that we can all survive the confrontation to come?”

Farthing and Gamel looked at each other in silent agreement.

“I think ye had best try and slip back inside Dorchabeinn, Martin,” Gamel said. He edged away from the shallow brush into the denser concealment of the trees, then he stood up, stretched, and brushed himself off. “’Twill be dawn before too long.”

Martin stood and stretched along with Farthing. “Are ye certain it wouldnae be better to creep inside with me now? I cannae be certain what the next few hours may hold for me. I may lose the chance to fulfill my promise to aid ye.”

“We must await the arrival of our full ranks. Once a few of us enter by way of the tunnel, we can throw open the gates to let the rest of our men in. Besides, I dinnae think ye need to fear for your life. Arabel thinks to gain all that she covets today. She will be far too busy to bother about ye. I wouldnae eat or drink anything, however.”

Farthing laughed softly when Martin grimaced. “Just show us the way in, and make sure that we can open the door and slip inside.”

“Aye. I will. But be careful, for I cannae leave it open too wide or the guards may spot it. ’Twill be barely unlatched. If ye arenae careful, ye could lock yourself outside. Then all will be lost. I may be able to slip away and correct the problem, but I cannae promise anything.”

“Dinnae take any risks, Martin. If ye are seen now, we could indeed find ourselves walking into a trap after sunset.”

“I understand.” Martin took a step, hesitated, and then looked at Farthing. “I will also understand if ye feel ye must deny me the chance to woo Margot. As her kinsmon ye have the right to demand that she look higher. Aye, she could do a great deal better than to choose me, a mon soaked in sin.”

“She has chosen ye, Martin Robertson,” Farthing said. “I havenae kenned my wee cousin for verra long, but I trust in her judgment already. Aye, and I can say verra little about what a mon has done in his past. I am not without sin myself.”

“ There is a truth that none can argue,” muttered Gamel. “Go back inside, Martin, and try to stay alive. We will return an hour before sunset. Dinnae fear, we will be sure that all of our people ken just whose side ye are on now.” As soon as Martin was gone, Gamel turned to Farthing. “Do ye think we are fools to trust him?”

“Nay. Although he may waver o’er Margot or e’en his need to strike at Arabel and Malise, there was one thing that he spoke of which will ne’er change. I believed him when he said it and I believe it now.”

“And what is that?”

“He cannae stomach being part of the murder of children. Martin saved the twins and Sine six years ago with his silence and he will save them again.”

Gamel nodded and started to walk through the thickly shadowed wood to the place where they had hidden their horses. “I too believed that. Aye, far more than I believed anything else he said.”

“We had better hurry.” Farthing took a quick look up at the sky. “We dinnae want to be late in meeting with Blane and Sir Lesley. They could easily think that something has gone awry and start to look for us.”

“God’s beard, and then we could waste hours just trying to find each other in these cursed woods.”

“Aye, and I am far too weary to play that game.”

“’Twas a long uncomfortable night,” agreed Gamel. “’Twill be a verra long day ahead of us as weel.”

“Howbeit, each cold, cramped hour we crouched outside of Dorchabeinn was weel spent.”

“Aye, it was, for it allowed Martin to find us and reveal Dorchabeinn’s weakness. ’Twill be a delight to have some good news to relay to Sine for a change.”