“Aye, this is what ye need,” Sir Simon said. “The land was bought and paid for by Kerr Matheson’s late wife’s parents. I suppose one must give them some credit for nay just tossing the lass out into the street even if they did choose badly when they bribed Matheson into marrying her.”
“I suspicion he presented a fine image for them back then,” said Callum. “And, to be fair, he may have thought she would come to love him but she disappeared into dreams about Brett Murray, the one who gave her Bethoc.”
“Now we can free her but this does naught for that other poor woman. Ye are sure she is innocent?”
“Bethoc is and what we learned about her husband’s murder makes me believe Bethoc’s instincts are right. She has been treated poorly. I need to get Bethoc out of there before they treat her the same.”
“We need to find at least one of those five men.”
“Ye think he would confess or turn on his companions?”
“They tied a mon to a chair and cut bits off him until he died. They attacked ye, a lone rider, as a group. They were after a little boy, one they probably intended to kill or kenned they would be asked to do so. All for what, I suspicion, would seem a pittance to us. Aye. It may take a wee bit of persuasion, but any one of them will confess and point fingers at anyone involved in a vain attempt to save their own miserable lives or e’en just to be sure they dinnae hang alone.”
Callum nodded and began to understand how this man had risen to become the king’s man and gain such a fearsome reputation. “Then we best hope our Simon and Uven find the bastards for I cannae wait long when I can use these papers to free Bethoc.”
“Ye fear they will abuse her.”
“Aye,” Callum said between gritted teeth. “I doubt my threats will deter them.”
“Nay, nay for long. So we best make an effort to get those men.”
“Will two of them do?”
Sir Simon and Callum were startled by Uven’s voice, not having heard him enter. Right behind him came Robbie dragging two tightly bound men. Sir Simon strode over and stared down at the two men Robbie dropped to the ground and Callum quickly followed.
“Ye caught the leader,” Callum said, nudging the scarred man with the toe of his boot.
“Have we?” Uven shrugged. “Mayhap he will ken something useful.”
“What happened to the other three?”
“One escaped although I am nay sure he will live long with the wound he has. The other two are dead. They proved reluctant to come along willingly.” Uven grinned.
“Weel, at least ye left two to speak.”
“Ah, knocked them out first then tried to persuade the others.”
Sir Simon grinned. “Good work. Now we wake them and get information.”
Robbie walked off and brought back a bucket of water, which he dumped on the men’s heads and Sir Simon laughed softly. “Thank ye.”
Consciousness was regained slowly and then Sir Simon crouched down next to the scarred man. Callum saw the expression that had undoubtedly struck terror into the hearts of many. The scarred man could not successfully hide all his fear as he looked at Sir Simon.
“Why did ye take the boy Cathan?” Sir Simon asked.
The man’s voice was calm even if his face was cold and threatening. It revealed a great control over himself. That was terrifying and it was evident the scarred man thought so as well. Callum knew he would never want to be questioned by the man if he was hiding something.
“His family wanted the boy back,” said the scarred man.
“Why?”
“’Cause he is family.”
“And holds both coin and land.”
“Aye.”
“Yet his mother, when she ran to Whytemont, gave the rights of guardian to Sir Callum MacMillan.”
“She was sick and not in her right mind,” the scarred man spoke as if reciting a hard-learned lesson.
“And was that the reason ye beat the laird of Whytemont and tossed him into the water to drown?”
“What? I . . . He wouldnae give us the lad!”
Callum fought the urge to say something because he suddenly saw what Sir Simon was doing. Lulled by easy questions he had ready answers for, ones that could be answered without incriminating himself, the scarred man was thrown off when given a hard one and blurted out the truth. He was eager to see how the technique would work in getting the information to set Bethoc and Laurel free.
Sir Simon settled down on the ground, sipped his drink, and then began to question the other man, tricking him into also confessing the attack on Callum. Callum sat down on the ground to watch. It was as good as a play. Sir Simon showed no reaction with each hard truth he pulled out. He quietly listened and then pressed for more.
“I must say, it has been a long time since I have uncovered such a putrid mess. Corruption, bribes, murder, anticipated murder, and the use of helpless women to steal land.” Sir Simon stood up, handed Robbie his empty tankard, and brushed his hands off. “Ye will, of course, hang but ye will have a lot of company on the gallows.”
“No one will heed ye,” the scarred man said but the taint of panic was in his voice.
“Oh, aye, they will. Ye see, I am nay just a knight or a laird. I was served as the king’s mon. They called me the King’s Hound. Unflattering but useful.”
When Sir Simon walked away, Callum followed. “Ye, sir, are a marvel.”
Sir Simon laughed. “Thank ye, but there is naught marvelous about it. Ye make them calm with easy questions they have readied, practiced answers for, answers that will nay hurt them, and then abruptly slip in a hard one. They almost always falter then. Only the truly evil can evade the trap and these men are naught but hired brutes.”
“So we take them to the sheriff now?”
“Och, aye, and I will enjoy presenting them to the sheriff.” Sir Simon smiled. “From what ye have told me of the mon, that fool will break fast and give us a flood of information. I feel there will be a lot of men in positions of power who will fall soon. The fact that it involves the taking of land implies it. Then mayhap the people in the village will breathe easily again.”
“Thank ye for this, for coming so quickly.”
Sir Simon waved away the thanks. “Too many similarities to what happened to my wife Ilsabeth to resist. Women are too often seen as nay more than easy prey. Few risk standing up for them, either. And if what ye say is true, she could be a cousin. But this has felt good. I do like to keep my hand in, keep my skills sharp. Now, let us load these fools on a horse and go get the women free.”
“I pray we are in time.”
“Aye.” Sir Simon’s face darkened. “We will be or someone will pay.”
As they tossed the men on the back of their own horses, Callum felt his tension grow. He could not forget that huddled bundle of rags that was Laurel, a poor abused woman unfairly accused. Each day that passed, he could see Bethoc becoming that. It had only been four days since he had seen her, but he thought that three too many. Her place in that jail ate at him until he found himself making plans on how to break her out of the jail. He was glad he did not have to carry out any of those plans and he prayed the delay did not cost Bethoc too dearly.
* * *
Bethoc slumped against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. The footsteps had not been coming for her. They had been dragging in another poor woman. She felt sorry for her as it was possible they were blaming her for some crime she had not committed as well. If so, why was no one taking any notice? Did they think there was some outbreak of murderous rage among the women in town? Did all these women have no one ready to stand for them? Why was there no one in town simply asking about what was happening?
“Laurel? Was there no one to stand for ye? No one to ask why?”
“Nay. My family was pleased about my marriage but then they, weel, drifted away. They still had six children and Robert wasnae verra welcoming. What hurt was that my own mother believed I did it. She visited me here once and berate
d me for nay quietly enduring whate’er Robert did.”
“Sorry.” Bethoc sighed. “Do ye think the woman they just dragged in has anyone?”
“Nay. That was Lorraine Halliday. Orphaned. She had a husband much like mine so I suspicion there were nay too many friends. I dinnae ken what she has that they want, though. Mayhap the building the shop is in.” She shrugged. “I wonder if we can find out what she was taken up for. I dinnae ken her weel enough to e’en guess.”
“They have quite a nice business going here, dinnae they,” Bethoc muttered.
“Oh, aye. I wonder who leads it all. I just cannae believe it is the laird.”
“Mayhap one of his sons. Does he have sons?”
“Four. Aye, it could be one of the younger ones. It doesnae matter. ’Tis still too late for Yolanda.”
“Yolanda?”
“A woman who was here when I was brought in. She wasnae much older than me. They hanged her a few days ago for the murder of her husband.”
“Oh, Jesu,” Bethoc whispered. “’Tis what we face, aye?”
“Aye. I just dinnae ken when. She had a wee boy, too, and constantly wept for him.”
Bethoc tensed. “A boy. Do ye ken if she said what he looks like? Ye ken Kerr liked to get boys to work his fields and I may ken who the lad is.”
“Aye, she always spoke of his big brown eyes. She had them too. Big eyes, deep brown, and so full of expression until these bastards killed all the life in them. And I guess he was a clever wee fellow. She was so proud of him but ne’er saw him again before she was hanged.”
“Do ye ken how old he was?”
“Five? Six? He wasnae a bairn. Why?”
“Aye, I think Kerr had him, took him, whate’er. Ye ken the boy who stepped forward to describe the five men I blame for Kerr’s murder?” Laurel nodded. “That was Magnus. He is six and he has those eyes. Big, brown, full of expression. He has been with us for seven months now though so it doesnae fit, does it?”
“It may. I only caught a glimpse of him but if he has anything of his mother in him, I would recognize it once I got a good look at him. I still see the look in her eyes as they led her off to her hanging, see them in my sleep. The resignation, the depth of the sadness, was heartbreaking. She kenned she was going to die, her good name now blackened by a crime she didnae commit. And, at times, when she talked of her lad, I got the feeling she spoke of a dead child or one lost to her for a while.”
“If fate allows it, I will get ye that look at him.”
Both women tensed as footsteps echoed in the hall. Laurel whimpered faintly and disappeared into her disguise as a pile of rags. Bethoc felt her heart start to pound so fast and hard she feared it could break free of her chest. They had not given her as much time to recover from a near drowning as they had before. She was terrified Laurel was right about what followed the fourth dunking.
The sheriff and his two silent guards stopped before her cell. There was a look on the man’s face that told what she feared was going to happen. So did the absence of William. She stepped back and kept trying to step back as they unlocked the door and walked inside. The two guards leapt forward and grabbed her by the arms. To her shock, Laurel suddenly came alive and leapt at the men, her hands curved into claws.
“Bitch!” screamed the sheriff as Laurel’s nails scraped his face before one of his men pulled her off.
The battle was short but vicious. All the men were bleeding slightly before Laurel was knocked back against the wall so hard she lost consciousness. Bethoc kept struggling in an attempt to get free and go to her aid but the sheriff’s men just tightened their grip on her. As they dragged her out of her cell she saw Laurel move and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sir Callum said ye had best nay leave a mark on me,” she said.
“Then we will hold ye verra gently,” said the sheriff and the way the guards laughed chilled her blood.
So terrified she could think of nothing else to say, she concentrated on doing what she could to stop her progress down the hall. They passed a cell and she saw a woman sprawled on the floor, coughing and choking as she emptied her lungs and belly of water. The men did not even glance at the woman. At that moment her hatred of the men hardened. It would not do any good, would not save her, but it was there in her heart, cold and hard and begging for vengeance.
“Are ye nay e’en going to ask for my confession?” she demanded as they shoved her into a room.
“Ye will give it to us before long,” said the sheriff.
“But I am ready to give it now and save ye all the trouble of pulling it out of me.”
“It willnae be any trouble.”
The two men yanked her back and tossed her down onto a bed. Bethoc fought hard but they managed to get her hands and feet tied to the posts. Then she looked at the sheriff, who smiled coldly, and began to pray for Callum to arrive. She just wished there was some small chance her prayers would be answered.
Chapter Twelve
Callum helped carry the men into the sheriff’s and frowned when he found a strange man in the sheriff’s seat. “Where is the sheriff?”
“He is busy now. I am William and ye can tell me your business.” The man leaned back in his seat and crossed his impressive arms over his chest. “What do ye want?”
“I have the men who killed Kerr Matheson and murdered Robert MacKray.”
“Aye?” The man stood up and looked over the desk, peering down at the two bound men. “Why do ye think they are guilty?”
“Because they told us,” said Sir Simon. “They confessed it to me.”
“And who are ye?”
“Lord Simon Innes, laird of Lochancorrie, and I used to be kenned as the King’s Hound.”
The way William reacted told Callum he had heard of Sir Simon. He paled and carefully moved back to sink down in his chair. His big hands clenched the arms of the chair. For a moment he stared at Sir Simon in silence, his wide eyes showing fear, and then he cleared his throat.
“What do ye want?”
“I want Bethoc Matheson and Laurel MacKray released. Here are the guilty men so ye can set the women free. They are clearly nay guilty. Now, where are they?” demanded Callum.
“Down the stairs. Miss Matheson is being interrogated,” he said as if relating a lesson well learned.
Callum felt alarm tighten in his belly and took off. He heard Sir Simon order William to watch the men and, a moment later, he heard his three companions following him. He reached the cell she had been locked in and Laurel rushed up to the bars. There was a bruise on the side of her face and her lip was bleeding. The sight caused Callum to taste the sour wash of fear.
“They took her off!” Laurel cried. “Ye have to go get them, stop them.”
“Where?” he demanded as Sir Simon stepped up and unlocked the door, causing Callum to wonder why he had not thought of snatching the keys before running off.
“Follow me,” Laurel said, and took off running down the passageway.
Hurrying after the woman he had only ever seen as a pile of rags with an occasional sight of a blue eye peeking at him, Callum realized Laurel MacKray was beautiful. He caught sight of another woman in a cell, weeping as she stood at the front of her cell watching them. He glanced back to see Sir Simon stop to talk to the woman but Uven and Robbie stayed hard on his heels.
Then they reached a closed door and Laurel began to frantically try to open it, pounding on the door when it would not budge. Callum gently nudged her aside and signaled to Uven and Robbie. Those two men kicked it open quickly and as Callum rushed inside the sight that met his eyes caused rage to sweep over him. The sheriff was settled between Bethoc’s legs, his manhood in his hand, and he was reaching for the braies she wore. He yanked the sheriff off of Bethoc and tossed him into a wall. Uven and Robbie quickly took down the two guards as Callum bent to untie Bethoc’s hands and feet from the narrow bed they had put her on.
Bethoc just stared at Callum as he freed her, unable to believe he had c
ome, and just in time. He gently took her into his arms and, despite all her efforts not to, she burst into tears. She knew they were caused by both the fear she had fought to hide and pure, joyous relief. Rape had come too close. The men’s blatant lust had left her feeling dirty.
“Ye are safe now, Bethoc,” Callum said, holding her close and rubbing her back.
“I ken it.” She pulled away and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I need to cease being weak. How did ye get here in time?”
“We found the true killers and had just brought them in.”
“So, ye think that will free me? And Laurel?” She glanced at her friend to see Laurel being kept out of the way of the guards by Uven.
“And Lorraine Halliday,” said a tall, dark man as he stepped into the room, Lorraine staying close behind him.
Laurel and Bethoc both broke free of the men they were with at the same time and ran to each other. For a moment they just hugged. Bethoc felt a sharp sympathy for Laurel. She had been saved that final degradation, but had a better understanding of the terror the woman had suffered. To be so helpless was not something she wished to ever feel again.
“Did they . . . ?” began Laurel.
“Nay.” She pulled back from Laurel and looked at the room. “They have been doing this for some time.”
“Aye, I fear so. What better way to torture a woman, to make her swear to whatever ye want her to. I would have broken soon,” she added softly in a tremulous voice.
“I think it is to be ended now,” she said quietly as she watched the tall, dark-haired man who had brought Lorraine in walk over to the sheriff. “That is a verra serious mon, one who willnae abide lies or evil games like this one.”
He smelled like an old pine, she thought, one of those big, sturdy old trees that stood no matter what storm battered them. She tensed and glanced around then told herself not to be an idiot. People could not tell what she was thinking. Her odd little skill was still a deep, dark secret.
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