Although Fiona had expected to lie awake, imagining horrid things having happened to Àdham, she fell asleep before the first such thought entered her head and slept deeply until the dawn’s light wakened her.
After breaking her fast, she helped with the chores as usual. But directly after the midday meal, unable to find Sirius, she took Argus and Eos with her and went out through the main gates and down into the west woods to find Granny Rosel.
Warmly welcomed into the dark, earthy cottage, she managed to smile and to give the dogs the sign to lie down, but when Granny raised her eyebrows in silent query, Fiona shook her head.
“Art sick, m’lady?” Granny asked her gently in the Gaelic.
“Nae, iomagaineach,” Fiona said. “Worried for Sir Àdham.”
Pointing to a nearby wooden settle, Granny silently urged her to sit. Then, with gentle fingertips, Granny shut Fiona’s eyelids, put one hand lightly on Fiona’s forehead, the other against the back of her head near her nape, and began to hum a soft tune that sounded to Fiona’s ears like a bairn’s lullaby.
She soon found herself relaxing, and might well have gone to sleep where she sat had Granny not stopped humming and said gently, “Ye be strong, m’lady. Be strong enough tae trust God, and be he willing, all will be good.”
“You speak Scots!”
“Nae more than ye speak our Gaelic,” Granny said. “We learn taegether.”
Although Fiona knew no more about Àdham’s fate than she had before, her spirits had lifted considerably by the time she took her leave with Eos and Argus.
Instead of taking her usual path, she continued up the hill behind the castle and made her way through the trees, keeping southward until she looked down on the several paths that led to Castle Finlagh, including a portion of the narrow fork she had taken the day that Àdham had found her with Gilli Roy. If Àdham were to come home, she wanted to meet him before anyone else did.
Instead, less than an hour later, she saw Rory running full tilt through the woods below her from the north. Catching up her skirts, she scrambled down on a diagonal line to meet him and reached a small clearing northeast of the castle just as he entered it from the northernmost end.
Àdham opened his eyes, wondering where he was. The room was as black as pitch and whatever he lay upon felt as unyielding as stone. Worse, although his head had ached after Mar clouted him, it pounded now.
Memory followed slowly after thoughts of Mar. They had traveled long to reach Nairn, and he’d seen the earl off on his galley toward Aberdeenshire.
Then, what? He remembered thinking of Fiona and how near she was. After that, he recalled nothing, but thinking of her brought her image achingly to mind.
He tried to find a more comfortable position and realized that he lay supine with his arms stretched over his head and tied in place. His legs were also stretched and tied, so he was helpless, and he could hear water lapping nearby, close enough that he wondered if he was somewhere near the Moray Firth shoreline.
If the tide was coming in . . .
Rory had apparently run for some distance, because when he met Fiona, he bent over, hands on his knees, and gasped, “Sir Àdham’s MacNab be . . . in the woods yonder a-talkin’ tae . . . a pair o’ wicked Comyns . . . their Hew and some other ’un.”
Only then did Fiona see that Sirius was at the boy’s heels.
“Where have you been, Rory? Did MacNab send you to me?” She realized as she spoke that she could not imagine Àdham’s customarily reticent squire sending the boy to her as a messenger. Perhaps, though, she had misjudged them both.
“Nae, m’lady,” Rory said, shaking his head, “MacNab didna say nowt tae me, nor did he see me. Sirius and me saw them, though, all three o’ them, together.”
“But how do you know any Comyn well enough to identify him by name?”
The boy shrugged.
Raising her eyebrows and capturing his gaze, Fiona said, “Rory . . .” As she did, she heard Davy’s sternest tone in her voice.
Apparently, and despite its having affected only that single word, Rory understood that her tone was one to obey. Swallowing visibly, he said, “Sir Àdham and Sir Fin say that a chap should ken the lands round anywhere he finds hisself. And ye ken fine that I roam about when I’m no wanted for summat else, tae see what I can see.” Giving her an oblique look, he added, “Just as ye do, m’lady.”
Ignoring both the look and the gibe, she said, “Surely, MacNab is not talking to two well-armed Comyns all by himself.”
“Nae, he has three o’ our lads with him. All o’ them be armed, too.”
“Where were you then?”
“Yonder on the hillside,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Like I said afore, from the top, ye can see Raitt Castle. But the last time I went, I near ran into a pair o’ them damna—them wicked Comyns. So that be some whiles ag—”
Falling abruptly silent at the sound of male voices approaching through the trees north of them, Rory darted into denser woodland. Sirius ran after him.
Although strongly tempted to follow them, Fiona resisted the impulse and waited. When MacNab and his three men appeared, Eos and Argus stepped in front of her but stood quietly when the four men entered the clearing.
Visibly surprised to see her, MacNab exclaimed, “In faith, m’lady! Ye should no ha’ come this far from Finlagh, no by this path. Ye must ken fine that ye stand nearer Raitt Castle here than Sir Àdham would like.”
“I have met no Comyns, though,” Fiona said, pleased that her voice was steady. She waited to hear if he would admit to talking to the Comyns himself.
“Had ye wandered further,” he retorted grimly, “ye’d ha’ come upon two o’ them glittous hellicats less than a quarter mile from here.”
His men nodded, also looking grim.
“Mercy, what were they doing so near?” Fiona asked them.
“They said they were hunting rabbits,” MacNab said. “But Sir Àdham said they do count all the land for miles around Raitt Castle as their own. They had talked o’ possessing much of it, even Lochindorb, for many years, ye ken.”
“You cannot mean these current Comyns,” Fiona said. “Sir Àdham told me that Clan Comyn sacrificed most of their estates more than a hundred years ago.”
“Aye, sure, but men dinna always agree about property rights. And some old ties keep strong forever.”
It was the longest talk she had had with McNab since Àdham had introduced him, but that thought stirred a more urgent one. “Did you ask if they had seen Sir Àdham?”
“Aye, sure, I did, for have I no been asking folks that verra question all day?” he replied. The trio behind him nodded again.
“But from them two,” he added, “I had only insolence. In troth, they seemed tae find humor in our having mislaid him, as they would have it we ha’ done.”
“But did they answer your question?”
“They did not, m’lady. They offered only mockery.”
Fiona wondered if that was true or if he was keeping what he had learned to himself. However, although Rory had run full pelt to her, MacNab and his men had been close behind. She recalled, too, that Rory said only that he had seen MacNab talking with the Comyns. But the other three men were Àdham’s men—or Fin’s. Surely they would not be supporting MacNab’s version of events if it was untrue.
She said to him, “You ought to have pressed them harder, even so. Have you learned aught of importance from anyone today?”
“I did hear talk o’ two ragged men striding through Nairn as if they owned the town, seeking the Earl of Mar’s ship. A boat did set sail soon afterward, but whether them two men were aboard, nae one could say.
“One other chap did say he thought he’d seen Sir Àdham in town,” he added. “It were at a distance, he said, when one bearded man looks like another, so he couldna be sure. ’Twas the mudd
y green plaid made him think o’ Sir Àdham, but o’ course, nigh onto every man hereabouts owns a green hunting plaid.”
“And Àdham would not have gone anywhere without first coming to Finlagh to tell us he was safe,” Fiona said. “If he was in Nairn then, he would be here now.”
“I agree, madam,” MacNab said. “But Sir Àdham be well known hereabouts, and I ken some o’ his acquaintances in Nairn. Nary a one o’ them had heard from him. In troth, though, we should no stand here talking. Those Comyns I met seemed of an ilk as might instigate a mischief.”
“Aye, we must go back,” she said, fighting an urge to cry. “I did hope . . .” Her voice failed her, and she fell silent, catching her lower lip between her teeth.
“Sir Àdham be a survivor, m’lady,” MacNab said, his tone gentler than she had ever heard it. “Also, the man never goes unarmed. You must cling tae that and tae the fact that we ha’ had nae word o’ his having fallen at Inverlochy.”
“But who would know? Any men still there are either prisoners or dead.”
“Ye can believe me when I tell ye that had Donal Balloch’s men found a knight o’ Sir Àdham’s repute slain on the field or amongst their prisoners, Donal Balloch would ha’ sent word hisself and demanded ransom.” Pausing, he added firmly, “Sakes, he would ha’ demanded ransom even had Sir Àdham been dead.”
Fiona wanted to believe him. But the faith she had in so many of the Highlanders she had come to know did not extend to the shameless villains who still stood hale, hearty, and victorious at the horrid place they called Inverlochy.
As they turned toward the castle, MacNab said quietly, “I’ll tell Sir Fin what little I did hear today, m’lady, but I doubt he’ll think any more of it than I did.”
She had to agree and remained silent all the way back to the castle.
No one asked what path she had taken while MacNab was with her, so he had no reason to mention it. She knew that he might tell Fin when he reported meeting the two, but she was sure now that the squire had not lied to her about that meeting. More likely, Rory had overreacted to the brief exchange of words.
Having no more appetite for her supper than she had had the previous night, she forced herself to eat, knowing that she would do herself no good by starving. However, as soon as she was finished, she begged to be excused.
Catriona eyed her narrowly. “Art sure you are well, dearling?”
“I am not sick, just unusually tired,” Fiona said honestly. “I did sleep well last night, though, so doubtless another night’s sleep will do me much good.”
Signing to Bridgett to finish her supper, Fiona felt Catriona’s gaze still upon her and hoped that her weariness had not caused her kind hostess undue concern.
Performing her ablutions hastily, she put herself to bed and fell asleep, only to awaken with a start when a small hand clapped over her mouth. Her eyes flew open to dusky light and the dark shadow of a head and shoulders close to her face.
“Dinna shriek,” a hoarse voice muttered. “I think I ken fine where he may be, m’lady. But we dinna want tae raise a fuss till we think more on it, quiet like.”
“Rory?”
“Aye, ’tis m’self,” the boy murmured. “Be your Bridgett close by, or nae?”
Fiona sat up, drawing the coverlet up to cover herself. “I don’t know where she is, but she lives with her granny. Do you mean you know where Sir Àdham is?”
“Aye,” he said. “Least, I think so.”
“Then why do you come to me instead of telling Sir Fin?”
“He got a message from some’un on Cawdor’s estate that straightaway took him there. ’Sides, I wouldna ha’ told him anyhow, ’cause if he takes a host o’ men there, he’d be like tae get Sir Àdham killed afore he could stop them villains.”
“Where is Àdham?”
“On an island in a loch a ways or so from Raitt,” the boy whispered. “Mind, I canna be sure he’s there, but that be where Hew and them kept captives afore.”
“How do you know that, Rory?” Fiona demanded, albeit quietly.
He hesitated.
“I shan’t repeat what you tell me, laddie. But I must know the truth.”
He remained silent, frowning. But, when she did not prod further, he said at last, “I were used tae live at Raitt, m’self. Hew’s big brother, Rab Comyn, made me go wi’ them tae that place they called Lochaber tae fetch and carry for them. When the battle started, I tried tae run away, but Rab caught me. He called me a feardie, and he were a-taking his tawse tae me fierce when Sir Àdham stopped him. Then he tried tae kill Sir Àdham. But Sir Àdham killed Rab instead and Hew ran away.”
“So you lied to me before, when I asked you about that day.”
Rory shrugged. “I twisted the tale, is all, lest ye might repeat it tae the wrong sorts. I warrant Sir Àdham willna like it that I told ye, though, ’cause I never did tell him that I knew they was Comyns. I were too scared he’d give me back tae Hew, so I told ’im they just found me in them woods and made me fetch and carry.”
“I will not betray your confidence, Rory. I do think that you must tell him yourself, though, before one of those Comyns sees you and tells Àdham or Sir Fin.”
The boy shrugged again but did not say anything more.
Deciding that was enough, she said, “What do you expect me to do?”
“Tae help me think is all,” he said. “I darena go alone, ’cause if that Hew catches me, he’ll kill me. I didna ken the other one as was with him today, but a Comyn be a Comyn, and wicked withal. Certes, ye canna go wi’ me. But we ha’ talked many times, and I thought ye might ha’ a notion or two in your cockloft.”
“Sir Fin would have notions, too,” she said gently.
“Aye, but we canna wait for him. I dinna think he’d believe me about stirring bad trouble if he takes a host o’ men wi’ him tae Raitt, neither, even did he still ha’ such a host the noo. Old Comyn o’ Raitt be there hisself, ye ken, and he’d raise a din and likely tell the King, ’cause the King did say they mustna fight over Raitt.”
“I do know about that,” Fiona said thoughtfully. “Still, I believe Sir Fin would confront Comyn of Raitt if they have captured Àdham. And he would likely need only a few men to do that, Rory, because everyone’s manpower is reduced now. But what makes you so sure that Àdham may be on that island?”
“Sithee, I heard MacNab a-tellin’ ye he’d heard Sir Àdham might ha’ been in Nairn. So, I took Sirius tae the edge o’ town and told him tae find Sir Àdham, like I taught him in Perth. He turned right round and led me straightaway toward Raitt, but he cut off eastward afore going on tae the castle itself. So, I bethought me o’ that island. I couldna go all the way tae the loch, o’ course, without them likely a-seeing me, but I kent fine by then that them dam—them wicked . . .”
“Call them damnable if you like,” Fiona said grimly. “If they abducted Àdham after he’d escaped the carnage at Inverlochy, those men belong in hell.”
When Rory nodded, she said, “Could you show me where that loch is?”
“Aye, sure. But we’d ha’ tae be daft tae go there on our ownsome.”
“There is still some light out, though, aye?” She glanced at the open window.
“It’d be dark afore we could get there.” He hesitated, then added, “There do be a bit o’ wind, though, as might clear away some o’ the mist and the clouds.”
Making up her mind, Fiona said, “I want you to show me where that loch is. You need go no farther, Rory, but do you know how to get out of the keep without running into any of the family?”
“Aye, sure,” he said, frowning. “But ye mustna go, m’lady. There’ll be consequences for us both, bad ones, an we get caught.”
“Then we will not get caught,” Fiona said. “I just want to look. Everyone thinks I’m asleep, so no one will look for me. You say that the loch is near Raitt?”
He thought about that. “It be east o’ the castle and a wee bit southlike.”
“Can we reach it without being seen from there?”
“Och, aye, over yon pass Sir Àdham uses tae avoid Raitt. That be how Sirius and I came back t’night. But Hew will likely leave guards near the loch.”
“I must get dressed. We can still get outside the wall, though, aye?”
“Aye, sure, although if ye mean tae take the dogs—”
“We cannot take them. They would bark or growl if anyone came near us.”
“Sakes, m’lady, Sirius doesna bark or growl, and I ken all o’ his signals, even his whistles. Moreover, if ye go alone, Sir Àdham or Sir Fin will—”
“We cannot think about that,” Fiona interjected hastily. “We’ll take Sirius, because if Àdham is a prisoner, we must find him. Do you have any weapons?”
“I ha’ me knife,” he said, patting the small pouch hanging from his belt.
Fiona eyed it dubiously. “It cannot be very long.”
“Nae, I just use it for cutting twine or making arrows for me bow. But I could stick someone with it an I had to,” he added.
Deciding that that would have to do, since she had no weapon of her own, Fiona asked Rory to wait on the landing. Then, hastily donning her shift and kirtle, she snatched her dark hooded cloak from its hook by the door and stepped cautiously out of her chamber, shutting the door silently behind her.
Rory led the way down to the scullery, clear of servants now, and they slipped out through the postern door to the garden. Keeping close to the wall, they waited until the man on the gate moved a short distance away in the course of his duties; whereupon, Rory revealed a small postern gate in one of the two tall iron ones that swung open to let a person out without having to open the heavier gate.
Sirius slipped out ahead of Fiona to follow the boy, who headed around to the east side of the knoll.
“Keep close tae the wall,” he whispered. “They dinna look straight down much, and this be the dark side anyhow, even when there dinna be mist and such.”
The Reluctant Highlander Page 32