“I beg your pardon.” Adeline scowled at him, insulted even though she could understand his anger. “I believe I am one of these people ye call an Outsider and I havenae led anyone to their death, nor would I.”
Lachann looked at her and sighed. Revealing his own mistrust of all who were not of his clan was not a good way to win over her trust. He realized he did not fully extend that mistrust to her but doubted she would believe that, especially as he could not explain why he did not feel it as strongly with her as he should. He hoped it was not just because he felt drawn to her, attracted to her with a strength that left him a little uneasy. Lachann did not want to think he could be such a fool. Just because she saved a child of his clan did not mean she would be as accepting of all of them.
“We need to go and talk to this Anne,” he said.
“Ye want us to turn around and go all the way back?” Adeline shook her head. “Nay, that is foolish.”
“I need to ken who his father is and what has happened to him.”
“He is dead. Ye have just confirmed that with all ye just told us about this marking the mon did. If he wasnae dead he would have come to help Osgar. Ye want us to go to the place where he was probably murdered? Where they hunt for Osgar and think me a witch? That is madness.”
“Ye willnae be without protection this time.” The way she tilted her jaw up and crossed her arms told Lachann she was not going to be easy to convince. She had a right to her fears but he could not let them hold him back from what needed to be done. “I need to ken the truth. For many reasons,” he said when she opened her mouth to argue with him. “It can tell me what Osgar’s bloodline is, which is verra important. He could be of one of the more important families within the clan and that will make a difference in his future.”
The way she frowned told him that making the return trip to the village important for Osgar’s future was the way to get her to agree. Lachann began to explain just how important the boy’s bloodlines were and all about how his clan was trying to put together a history that could help them to solve all the problems their clan faced now. By the time he knew they had to head to shelter, she was a reluctant partner in his plans. He did not fool himself into thinking she would cease trying to make him change his mind, however.
Chapter Three
“I still dinnae like this,” Adeline muttered as she stood beside Lachann looking down the small hillside at the village. She had been grieved to leave her home but not the people who lived here.
“In truth, neither do I, lass,” Lachann confessed, knowing she could not turn back now. “These are the people who tried to kill Osgar and I am certain they killed the lad’s father. I suspicion they would have soon come for ye, too. Nay, I dinnae wish to be here but I cannae ignore the need to speak to this Anne. I need to ken who fathered the lad. If naught else, the mon may have close kin at Cambrun and they will wish to ken what happened to him. That and all the reasons ye have made me repeat again and again since we started the journey here.”
“And ye wish to ken who may be pleased that he left a wee bit of himself behind. I ken it. Doesnae mean I like being here, but I ken the reasons for this are good ones.”
“And ye couldnae have agreed from the start?”
“Nay,” she replied, and made no apology for her stubbornness. “And Osgar should ken if he has family.”
“Aye. Because Osgar is a Blooded Son his family may be able to ken who he is, but I cannae be certain of that. The blood bond may be clear enough for all the mon’s kin to see but a name will help us save some time in kenning who he belongs to if the mark isnae strong enough.”
He belongs to me, Adeline thought as she looked back toward the cluster of trees where Osgar waited with the ponies and Lachann’s horse, but she bit back the words. She hated to leave the boy all alone but had to trust that he knew to flee on the pony if anyone approached him. Osgar had learned how to sense and elude danger before he could even speak clearly. Sad as that was, it served him well. She idly wondered if that was one of the things his father had given him when he had marked him.
“He will be fine,” Lachann said quietly. “He is a clever lad and we willnae be long.”
“As ye wish. She lives in that wee cottage next to the blacksmith’s place. She is a widow now. Her husband was nay rich but he owned that wee home and Anne has a keen eye for lovers with full purses.”
“Any other children?”
“Two. One by her husband and one by a lover. ’Tis whispered that she had others but that she is fond of taking the poor bairns to the wood, returning without them. I ne’er found any, though, nor any sign that she had done so. Another rumor claims that she kens how to rid herself of a bairn ere it is born.” Adeline scowled at Anne’s cottage. “Unfortunately, some in the village believe the latter and think I am the one who gives Anne such potions. I ne’er have. My mother would spin in her grave if I e’en thought of it. But the priest decries my dark sin with near every mass he gives and Anne does naught to absolve me of such unfair blame.”
“And yet ye stayed here, stayed near enough to these fools to be at risk.”
“The cottage was my home,” she explained softly. “They destroyed that when they murdered my mother but I had thought I could regain it with Osgar. I thought he and I could make it a home again.”
Lachann had the strongest, and strangest, urge to pull her into his arms and soothe her pain, to tell her that she could make a home at Cambrun, with him. That was utter foolishness. He did not even know the woman, he told himself firmly and then immediately called himself a liar. She had already revealed her bravery by facing those men and protecting Osgar, her kind heart in the way she had taken in a child most of the world would run from or kill, and her stubbornness in the way she had argued with him so strenuously about returning to this village. She had done it all for Osgar’s sake. Lachann also sensed an old pain, one inflicted by the superstitious people in the village, people who had killed her mother and kept Adeline an outcast.
“Let us be done with this,” he said, shaking away his rambling thoughts as he started down the hill.
Adeline hurried to his side and directed him along a less obvious path to Anne’s cottage. The sun was almost set and most of the villagers were indoors but she saw no reason to risk meeting or being seen by anyone. Someone might already have discovered that she had fled her home. It would not take long for people to wonder why, especially since the suspicion that she was hiding Osgar had already set down roots in the hunters’ minds.
As they approached the back door of Anne’s cottage, Adeline noticed the signs of prosperity. A neat, full kitchen garden, glass in the windows, a newly thatched roof, and a stout door. If Anne was ridding herself of children she was not doing so because she had no means to feed and care for them.
The smile that curved Anne’s full mouth when she opened the door and first saw the strong, handsome man standing there quickly fled. Adeline was just wondering if the woman suddenly recognized something in Lachann that reminded her of the man who had fathered Osgar when Anne tried to shut the door in their faces. Lachann moved with that speed that still astonished her, shoving the door open and grabbing hold of Anne, his hand over her mouth to halt any attempt the woman made to cry out for help. He walked into Anne’s warm kitchen and Adeline followed, shutting the door behind them. A quick glance around told her the children were either gone or in bed.
“Now, mistress, ye will nay scream or cry for aid, aye?” Lachann said.
The hard chill of his voice made Adeline shiver. Anne’s eyes were so wide they had to sting as she stared at the man who held her captive. Fear and guilt were so strong in the woman that Adeline could almost smell them. Finally, Anne nodded.
“Be warned, woman. I can stop ye from screaming ere ye finish taking the breath needed to do so,” Lachann warned as he slowly released Anne.
“Who are ye?” Anne asked as she stumbled back a few steps and fell into a chair.
“I think ye have
a good idea. I look like your lover, aye? Like the mon who sired the wee lad ye tried to kill.”
“I have ne’er tried to kill a wee lad!”
“Ye are a poor liar. Ye set your son, a wee bairn, out in the wood kenning weel that he couldnae survive on his own. And, just to make certain the wild beasts made a meal of the boy, ye cut him, filling the air with the tempting scent of blood. Ye may nay have killed the boy with your own hand but leaving him like that ’tis the same, as I see it. What I need to ken now is who sired the boy. Give me a name and I will leave ye be.”
Anne trembled as she looked from Lachann to Adeline and back again. Then, slowly, a sly look entered her eyes and Adeline nearly cursed. It did not surprise her to see that the woman thought she could gain from this confrontation, could sell the truth Lachann sought. One look at Lachann’s face told Adeline that he, too, now saw the crafty thoughts crowding Anne’s mind. She had to wonder just how witless Anne was. Could the woman not see that her life was hanging by a very thin thread?
Lachann leaned toward the woman, letting Anne see the glint of the beast in his eyes. “Best ye think verra carefully about trying to play some game with me, woman. Dinnae think I will be gentle or merciful just because ye are a woman. Ye tried to kill a child of my clan and we dinnae take kindly to that. Nay, nor do we act mercifully to one who sent one of our own to his death.”
Anne went so white Adeline feared she was about to swoon. A quick glance at Lachann’s face told Adeline why the woman was so terrified. Lachann’s beautiful golden eyes had turned hard and feral and he was showing his teeth. Adeline suspected that if she were presented with that face attached to such a big, strong man, one who could snap her neck in the wink of an eye, she might wish to swoon as well. It puzzled her a little that she was not the least bit afraid even now.
“Arailt,” Anne whispered.
For a moment Adeline thought that Lachann was going to draw his sword and strike the woman’s head from her shoulders. Anne must have thought so too, for she tried to press herself into a very small figure in her chair and whimpered. Deciding that although Anne certainly deserved harsh punishment for her crimes and the blood on her hands, it was not wise for Lachann to deliver it, Adeline placed her hand on his arm. It took long enough that she began to grow nervous, but then she felt the hard tension in his arm ease a little.
“How did he die?” Lachann asked, his voice rough with the fury he was struggling to hold back.
“The men hunted him down the last time he left,” Anne replied, a little of her foolish bravado returning as she realized she was not about to be killed.
“Aye, as I thought. And ye told them he was here and where he was headed, didnae ye? Ye made certain your mon wouldnae return to trouble ye again.”
Anger twisted Anne’s face into something far from pretty. “He wasnae a mon! He was a demon and ’tis clear that the land is swarming with them. Ye are of his ilk and ye deserve the same fate. God demands it.”
“Jesu, dinnae try to cover your sins with the shield of righteousness, bitch. Ye were willing to take the mon to your bed, to do so for near to two years. Ye tired of him or found a richer purse to dip your fingers in.”
“Nay, I—”
“Dinnae twist your tongue with more lies. After being his lover for so long ye must have kenned his secrets and ye used them against him. Ye sent him to his death, willingly. Aye, and then ye tried to send his son after him.” He spat at her feet. “Tell me how he died.”
“I dinnae ken. The men hunted him down somewhere in the wood.”
“So how do ye ken he was killed?” Lachann’s stomach turned when he saw how pale she went. “They brought proof of their murder back so that ye could be sure. What? His head?” He could tell by the look on her face that he had guessed right and ached to put his hands around her white throat and choke her until she ceased to breathe.
Adeline shook her head. “Ye could share a mon’s bed, bear his child, and then see him brutally murdered? Why didnae ye just send him and the child away? Ye have ne’er hesitated to simply cast off one mon for another before.”
“Dinnae look down your nose at me, witch,” snapped Anne. “I shouldnae be surprised that ye have taken up with one of the demons. Like clings to like, aye? Weel, best ye run, run faster than your mother could.”
Adeline felt her nails dig into her palms as she clenched her fists, fighting the urge to leap onto Anne and beat her senseless. All the anger and frustration she had suffered over her mother’s death and her inability to make anyone pay for it rose up and choked her. If she had had anyplace else to go she would have walked away from them all. Instead, she had had to ignore their guilt, try not to think of what they had done, and nurse all their petty ills just to survive. They were fortunate she was not the vengeful sort, for she could easily have poisoned the lot of them before anyone became wise to her tricks.
Well, she now had a place to go, she realized, and the tide of her fury receded a little. Lachann had not just taken Osgar and left, something he could have done with ease. He was taking her to Cambrun, too, even though he really had no need of her any longer. She suddenly wanted to talk to him about that, to hear him say outright that she could stay at Cambrun. The thoughts crowding her mind actually helped her regain control of her anger and need for revenge against people like Anne, people who condemned and killed anyone they did not understand.
“Oh, aye, I am leaving,” Adeline said. “Best ye pray none of ye fall ill or have a problem birthing a bairn, for none of ye thought to learn any healing skills, thinking them the devil’s work.”
The look on Anne’s face told Adeline that need for a healer was the only reason she was still alive, her skills quite possibly the only reason they had so easily turned on and killed her mother without thought to all the good the woman had done for them. After all, they still had one healer left. Suddenly all Adeline wanted to do was leave, to get as far away from Anne and her ilk as quickly as possible.
“Fetch anything Arailt gave or left ye,” ordered Lachann. “ ’Tis all Osgar’s by right now.”
“I ken no Osgar,” said Anne.
“He is the bairn ye left to die. The son of the mon ye had killed. Now, I ken he would have given ye gifts or something of his, so I will take it now.” He grabbed Anne by the arm and yanked her out of the chair, and he watched as she tried to hide her hand in her skirts. “I believe we will start with what ye are trying to hide.”
He pulled her hand free of her skirts and stared at the ring on her hand. It was a wide silver band engraved with the badge of the MacNachtons and set with a fat, blood-red garnet. Poor Arailt had cared for this woman. Such rings were prized and not given away lightly. Lachann wondered when the man had realized he had erred in his choice of lover and suspected it had been the night he had marked his own child.
She struggled a little when he took the ring from her. Keeping a firm grip on her, he pushed and threatened her until she gave them several items. One was a medallion that Lachann was sure Arailt’s kin would recognize. He was surprised the woman had not sold it yet. Vanity or the need to keep something set aside for the lean times, he supposed. He looked at Adeline as he shoved Anne back into her seat.
“Go,” he ordered. “Start on the path I showed ye and I will catch up with ye.”
“Nay, ye still need someone to watch your back,” Adeline said.
“I willnae kill the bitch.”
“I ken it. That danger has passed, but she is still a threat. The moment ye step out of this cottage, she will be screaming for men to come and help her, men to kill you.”
“All of whom will have to ready themselves and run here, then listen to what she says. In that time, short as it may be, I can be gone. I think ye may need a wee bit more time than that and I have a faster mount.”
She hated to leave him but knew he was right. The time had come to leave this place and, since they could not kill Anne, the woman would soon rouse men to hunt for them. Her ponies were not fast
enough to outrun a man mounted on a large horse, and some of the hunters would get horses. It was best to get a good start in her retreat.
“Silence her then. A wee tap on the chin should do, although I wouldnae complain if ye broke her nose and stole away some of that beauty she uses so cruelly. I will be on the path ye showed me.”
Adeline did not wait to see what he would do. Anne’s gasp of shock and fear caressed her ears as she strode out of the cottage. The minute she reached Osgar and the ponies, she mounted behind the boy and kicked her sturdy little pony into a trot.
“Where is Lachann?” asked Osgar, twisting around to look behind him. “We cannae leave him.”
“We are nay leaving him,” Adeline said. “’Tis just that we may have to leave verra quickly and his horse can move faster than ours, so ’tis best we start out first.”
“They will take his head!”
It was a struggle to hold onto Osgar as he thrashed and twisted in an attempt to get off the pony. He started crying when she got a firm hold on him and they continued to put distance between them and the village. Now she understood the child’s occasional nightmares, why Osgar would grow so pale when he talked of how his father had not returned. He had seen the men return with his father’s head. Adeline fought the urge to go back and beat Anne until she was little more than a mess on her fine wooden floors.
She was several miles from the village and was thinking she might need to go back and rescue Lachann when she heard the rapid approach of a horse. Before she could fully conceal herself and her little group in the trees, Lachann rode up, slowing his mount to match the trotting pace of her ponies. He looked as if he had endured a hard race and she sighed.
“Ye didnae give her a little tap on the chin, did ye?” she said.
“I dinnae strike women, nay even murdering slatterns like her,” he said and then grimaced when he saw that Osgar was watching him. “It wasnae her that cried the alarum, however. Her wee son came in, saw me, and went screaming out of the house.” Lachann smiled a little. “I look enough like Arailt that the poor lad thought he was seeing a ghostie. I did give the woman a light slap that knocked her a little foolish, but she had recovered by the time I had mounted and was out there screaming for my blood.”
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