Chapter Fifteen #3
“Aye, that would be him. Saw him once when Sir Adam came to rail at David. That mon has a darkness in him that e’en gives me the chills.
He is the killer we all fear whether we want to admit it or nay.
He kills without a hint of remorse or regret, mon, woman, or child, makes no difference.
And if the way Biddy died is any sign, he can enjoy himself in the doing of it if he chooses. ”
“A mon who badly needs killing.”
“Verra badly. If I was a good bowman, I would take him down from here and, I promise ye, nary a mon there would come hunting us.”
“Weel, I believe I have seen enough.”
Harcourt carefully moved away, staying low and quiet until he could stand out of sight of the camp, Nicolas following and doing the same.
Then they kept to the cover of the trees and shadows until they reached the place where they had tethered their horses.
Harcourt said nothing as they rode back to Glencullaich, keeping a watch for any of Sir Adam’s men, until the keep came into sight.
“A part of one can understand the mon’s desire for this place,” he said as they slowed their pace and let down their guard a little. “Good land, plenty of water, a fine strong keep. But he doesnae want it for the right reasons, for what makes it such a prize.”
“The people and the peace of it all.”
“Exactly. He will bleed it dry and destroy the lives of all these people. Nay just Annys and Benet but every mon, woman, and child here. There can be no bargaining with him.”
Nicolas nodded. “None at all, but ye kenned that.”
“I did. ’Tis just me reminding myself for I ken the mon has to die. He will ne’er let it be, nay matter what he may promise if cornered and pressed for a vow.”
“Do ye think your lady hopes for some bargain, some pact that will end this?”
“Oh, aye, she hopes but she also kens it will nay happen.”
As Harcourt rode through the gates he saw Benet on the steps up to the keep.
The child smiled and waved at him, while idly stroking his lamb with his other hand.
Seated comfortably on the lamb’s back was the cat.
Harcourt’s heart lightened at the welcome from his son.
He decided to ignore the boy’s strange companions, as well as Nicolas’s laughter.
It was not as easy as he thought it should be because too many others in the bailey were grinning or laughing at the sight.
“Harcourt?” Nicolas called softly as they dismounted and the stable boys came to take their horses.
“Dinnae speak on it,” Harcourt muttered.
“Just have to say one wee thing. Ye do ken that, if ye find a solution to what must separate ye and Lady Annys, that when ye leave here with the lad and her, ye leave with those two creatures as weel, dinnae ye?”
“Mayhap I can find a solution to them, too.”
“Ah, sorry, old friend. Ye take them, too, or ye put a pain in the wee lady’s heart that could burn ye as weel.”
Harcourt knew that. He simply did not want to think about it until it was absolutely necessary.
He walked up to Benet and lightly ruffled the boy’s hair.
When the lamb stretched its neck up, clearly asking for a pat as well, he sighed and gave it one.
The cat just stared at him as if daring him to put his hand close enough to get it properly shredded. Harcourt glared back.
“Dinnae ye like Roban?” asked Benet, scratching the cat’s ears and laughing when it loudly purred.
“Roban and I are in the midst of a parlay,” he said.
“Dunnie says he is a good cat. Kills lots of mice and e’en takes them outside so the wee bodies dinnae muck up a place. Says he doesnae stink up the place like the other he-cats either, so he may nay need to geld him.”
It was difficult but Harcourt smothered the urge to look at the cat who had growled softly when Benet had said that, seeing it as giving in to the nonsense of seeing the animal as more than it was. “He can do that to a cat?”
“And a dog.” Benet frowned. “It goes wrong sometimes and can kill them so I dinnae think I want him doing it to Roban but Maman says they fixed that and she gives them something to make them sleepy and still and it works so maybe I could let them try but since he doesnae stink things all up I dinnae see why we have to.”
It took Harcourt a moment to thread his way through that long, long sentence, but then he nodded. “That decision can wait. Where is your mother?”
“In there.” He pointed to the door of the keep.
“Ah, I see, weel, thank ye, laddie.”
Harcourt went in search of Annys, finally finding her in the herb garden.
She sat back on her heels when he crouched down next to her.
The welcome smile she gave him warmed him as much as Benet’s had, just in a different way.
This was what he wanted, that welcome, that home, and he vowed he would find a way around the things that could separate them.
“Herbs for cooking or medicines?” he asked.
“Most are for medicines. Salves for wounds and burns.” She studied his face and sighed. “I am going to need a lot of that salve, aye?”
“Aye, love. I fear ye are. An awful lot indeed. And soon.”