“He hit our mum,” Alyse’s oldest son answered for her, which in turn made her cry all the more.
Wanting to save Alyse any further humiliation, Fiona said, “We’ll go to me study and ye can tell us in private what happened.”
Alyse was in no shape to argue; she clung to her little boys as if they were the only things keeping her from falling apart.
“Isabelle, please take the lads and get them somethin’ to eat,” Fiona said.
Alyse was reluctant to let them go. “I’ll take good care of them, Alyse, I promise,” Isabelle told her. “They can sit at the dais with us.”
“Isabelle and Mairi will take good care of them,” Collin told her. “I’m certain ye’d rather discuss this privately.”
Alyse handed the boys off to Isabelle, while Collin took her arm and led her away. Fiona and Caelen followed behind.
Fiona’s study — her old study — looked just the same as the day she’d resigned. The only difference now, was that it belonged to her brother. ’Twould take some getting used to.
Collin sat Alyse in one of the two chairs that sat in front of his desk, then offered the other to Fiona. Caelen stood behind his wife, while Collin leaned against the edge of the desk.
“Alyse, tell me what happened,” Collin said, in a low and soothing voice.
Alyse wiped her eyes on her kerchief and turned to face Fiona. “Everythin’ was fine our first night. But the next day, he changed. He started to drink and he has no’ stopped since. Last night, he was up all night long, drinkin’, and this morn, he was so drunk he could barely stand.”
“Has he always been like this?” Collin asked.
Alyse blew her nose and shook her head. “Nay, he has never been like this.”
“Do ye ken why he’s suddenly taken to drink?” Collin asked with a tilt of his head.
Alyse took a deep breath before answering. “Because of Fiona.”
Collin’s brow furrowed as he cast a quick glance at Fiona, who was just as confused as he was.
“Do no’ tell me he has feelin’s fer me wife,” Caelen said, sounding appalled with the idea.
Alyse shook her head, “Nay, ’tis no’ that.”
Fiona turned her chair so that she could face Alyse directly. Gently, she took Alyse’s hands in hers. “Alyse, why do ye say Bhruic be drinkin’ because of me?”
Alyse took a fortifying breath before answering. “I do no’ ken the whole of it, because he will no’ speak to me. But he sits all the day long, mumblin’ yer name and his daughter’s. He drinks and speaks to himself and then he gets verra angry. This morn, I begged him to tell me what was the matter. He got so angry, he began to throw things about, screamin’ and hollerin’ that I should go ask ye why he be so upset, that ’twas all yer fault that he’ll never see his little Aingealag again. When I told him he was no’ makin’ any sense, he struck me!”
None of it made any sense to Fiona. “Why can he never see his daughter again?” she asked.
Alyse shrugged her shoulders. “I dunna ken, Fiona.” She took her hands from Fiona’s and blew her nose again. “He loves his daughter. He be a good man, Fiona, but somethin’ happened the day after ye and Caelen were married. His uncle came to see him and spoke to Bhruic alone. I do no’ ken what they said, but after Edgar left, Bhruic was verra upset and that be when he started to drink.”
Fiona found that more than peculiar. Caelen placed a hand on her shoulder. Without saying a word, she knew he was thinking the same thing as she was. From Collin’s set jaw, he knew it too.
They now knew who was behind the raids.
They wasted no time.
While Collin set about preparing his men and people for battle, Caelen went in search of Phillip with a few orders of his own. Afterward, Fiona, Collin and Caelen left for Alyse’s hut. They had questions for one Bhruic MacKinnon.
Alyse’s little wattle and daub hut sat just down a small path near the eastern wall. To keep her anger in check, Fiona counted — with no end number in mind — all the way to the door of the hut. She felt betrayed not only by Edgar MacKinnon, but by Bhruic as well. Caelen looked to be just as furious as she, with his jaw clenched, his face red, and his hand on the hilt of his sword. Collin looked no better.
“Pray, keep yer temper in check, husband,” Fiona told Caelen as they stomped toward the hut. His expression said he thought her quite mad. “At least until we learn what we must.”
“I canna promise ye I’ll no’ kill him,” Caelen told her.
“I do no’ expect ye to,” Fiona said. “But keep in mind we need information at the moment. We can kill him after he tells us what we need to know.”
Collin gave each of them a warning. “No one will be killin’ anyone this day,” he warned them. “We do no’ have proof of anythin’, only our speculation.”
Caelen scoffed. “We’ll have more than speculation by the time I be done with him.”
Collin brought them to an abrupt halt. “If I canna have yer word that ye’ll no’ harm, maim or kill him, then ye can remain out of doors whilst I talk to him.”
Caelen worked his jaw back and forth for a moment. Collin’s patience had been one of the qualities Caelen had admired. Until now. “And if he doesna speak? Doesna tell us what we need to know?”
A wry smile formed on Collin’s lips. “He’ll talk. Do no’ worry it.”
Collin didn’t bother with knocking or asking permission to enter. With Fiona and Caelen behind him, he flung open the door and entered.
The tiny hut was in shambles. Broken crockery littered the floor along with clothing, bedding and empty jugs and bottles. Furs meant to keep out the weather, hung by a peg or had been ripped from the windows entirely and lay on the floor. The odor of sweat and ale permeated the air and assaulted Fiona’s senses, forcing her to breathe in through her mouth. Caelen came inside and stood beside her and watched Collin.
Bhruic sat at the small table and didn’t even bother looking up when the door flew open. He remained sitting, probably because he was far too drunk to stand.
He hadn’t shaved in days, his clothes were as rumpled and filthy as his hair. He looked like hell, with his bloodshot, watery eyes and disheveled appearance. On the table in front of him was a jug of ale and a cup. With a shaky hand, he lifted the cup and drank.
Collin stepped forward and knocked the cup from his hands. It went sailing through the air and crashed against the wall.
Bhruic shrugged his shoulders and reached for the jug. Collin slid it to the far edge of the table. “No more, Bhruic,” Collin told him.
“What the bloody hell do you want?” Bhruic asked, his words slurred.
“I want to ken why ye hit yer wife this morn?”
Bhruic snorted derisively. “Why do ye care?”
“I care because Alyse is a fine woman. She deserves better than a drunkard fer a husband.” Collin hid his disgust behind a mask of indifference. He was certain that Edgar was holding Aingealag as hostage, forcing Bhruic to do his dirty work else he’d harm the little girl. All he needed was Bhruic to admit it and hopefully to tell him why.
Bhruic found Collin’s assessment amusing. Chuckling, he said, “I would have to agree.”
“Where be yer daughter?” Collin asked.
Bhruic’s amused demeanor changed dramatically. Tears filled his eyes, his shoulders sagged. “I’ll ne’er see her again,” he muttered.
“Why? Why will ye no’ see her again?” Collin asked, his patience wearing thin. Bhruic was so drunk he teetered in the chair.
“She’s an innocent child,” Bhruic said, his voice cracking. “My sweet babe, she be so sweet and I’ll ne’er see her again.” Staring at the wall, he looked utterly defeated and lost.
Collin rested a hand on Bhruic’s shoulder. “Bhruic, did they threaten ye with yer daughter? Did he threaten to harm yer daughter if ye didna do what he said?”
Bhruic pulled his gaze away from the wall. He looked at Collin as if he had only just realized he was there. Daze
d and confused sounding he said, “Collin, have ye seen me Alyse?”
“Aye, Alyse is at the keep, along with her sons. I need ye to concentrate Bhruic. Tell me about yer daughter. Why is Edgar keepin’ her from ye?” Collin asked, raising his voice in hopes of keeping Bhruic awake and focused on the topic at hand.
Bhruic looked confused by Collin’s question. “Edgar?” he asked.
“Aye,” Collin said. “Tell me why they killed Bridgett and Stephan and Mildred. I need to understand why he killed them. What did he hope to gain? I canna believe it all be fer water.”
Bhruic’s eyes began to droop sleepily, the alcohol taking its toll.
“Bhruic!” Collin said his name harshly to gain his attention. “I need ye to tell me why. Why did Edgar have our people killed? Why does he hold yer daughter?”
“Edgar? Edgar has me daughter?” Bhruic asked as his head began to loll to one side. He was close to passing out.
Collin let out a frustrated breath. Bhruic was too drunk to either understand the questions or give answers to them. Collin grabbed Bhruic’s tunic and pulled him to his feet.
“Let me sleep,” Bhruic complained.
Collin shook him hard. “Bhruic, I need answers and I need them now,” he seethed through gritted teeth.
“I have no answers,” Bhruic said tiredly. “I canna even save me daughter.”
Collin gritted his teeth when he saw Bhruic’s head lolling again. Holding Bhruic up with one hand, Collin slapped him across the cheek to gain his attention. “Bhruic!”
The slap had the desired effect. Bhruic opened his eyes, strained to focus them on Collin. “Yer goin’ to tell me all that ye know and yer goin’ to tell me now, Bhruic, do ye understand?”
Bhruic looked defeated as Collin shoved him back into his seat then sat across from him. “Tell me why ye canna see yer daughter again.”
Bhruic took in a deep breath and let it out through his nostrils and rested his head against one hand. “Because Fiona married Caelen.”
“There has to be more,” Collin said. “Tell me.”
“They want unfettered access to yer lands,” Bhruic said, his eyelids drooping once again.
Under the table, Collin kicked Bhruic’s shin to gain his attention. “Why?”
“He wants access to the mountain, to the tunnels.”
Collin cast a curious glance toward Fiona. “He wants our whisky?” Fiona asked.
Caelen looked at her. “Ye keep yer whisky in tunnels?”
“Aye, we do. There be a few spots where ’tis never too cold or too warm and never to wet nor too dry. We’ve kept our barrels there fer decades,” Fiona explained.
Collin turned back to Bhruic who was drifting off again. Collin pulled away the arm his head rested on. “Ye canna expect me to believe yer uncle be willin’ to kill fer whisky.”
Bhruic shook his head. “Nay, ’tisn’t the whisky he wants.”
“The water then?” Collin asked incredulously.
“Nay, nay, nay,” Bhruic said as he shook his head.
“Then what the bloody hell does he want?” Collin demanded.
“I dunna ken!” Bhruic shouted.
Collin sensed there was much more that Bhruic knew but wasn’t telling. He was fully prepared to beat him within an inch of his life to get the information. He slapped Bhruic across his cheek again as a way of keeping him awake and letting him know he was not going to give up.
“They’ll kill me if I tell ye, and they’ll kill me daughter.”
Collin leaned in. “I’ll kill ye if ye remain silent.”
Bhruic threw his hands in the air in defeat. “Me daughter, she be only four years old. Do ye truly want the blood of an innocent on yer hands?” Bhruic asked.
“If she dies, ’twill be because ye were a silent coward. If she dies, there will be no one to blame but yerself. If ye tell us why yer uncle holds her hostage and what he wants, I will do everythin’ in me power to protect yer child.”
Bhruic let out another dejected breath. “Me uncle does no’ have her.”
Collin was stunned by that information. “What do ye mean he does no’ have her? Who does?”
Sweat began to bead on Bhruic’s forehead. He swallowed hard before answering. “Gelis Farquar.”
Collin, Fiona and Caelen stared at Bhruic in stunned silence.
They had all been convinced that Edgar MacKinnon was responsible. He had worked so hard to befriend Fiona, had earned her trust and she had promised that he could visit as often as he liked because he loved little Aingealag so much. With the information Alyse had given them an hour ago, they had assumed Edgar had lied, that he was holding the child as hostage to get Bhruic to do his bidding.
They were taken aback by Bhruic’s pronouncement that Gelis Farquar was holding his daughter hostage. It made no sense. But then, nothing about the attacks had ever made any sense.
“I do no’ understand,” Fiona whispered. “How did Gelis Farquar come to have yer daughter?”
“Because me uncle gave her to him,” Bhruic said, his disgust plainly evidenced in his bloodshot eyes.
Fiona quirked a brow. Edgar was involved. Knowing her first instinct was correct did not make her feel any better.
“Why?” Collin asked, his tone both curious and disgusted.
“Because he wants whatever it is he believes be in those tunnels.”
Fiona felt they were going around in circles. “Bhruic, start at the beginnin’.”
Though he was clearly fearful of spilling his guts, he was more fearful of spilling his own blood. He was also quite worried over his daughter’s safety. “Do I have yer word ye’ll protect me daughter?” he asked Collin directly.
“Ye do.”
He took another deep breath. “I do no’ ken what be hidden in yer tunnels, but I do ken that Gelis wants whatever it be. More than a year ago, he was visitin’ with the McKenzie and the McGregor. They’d been drinkin’ and tellin’ stories like they always do.” He turned then to look at Fiona. “Then out of the blue, Gelis announces he is goin’ to marry ye.”
He paused long enough to take a deep breath. “When they began to question why he’d want to marry ye, well, he could no’ tell the truth. So he lied about there bein’ magic water. Well, the McGregor and the McKenzie — bein’ the greedy fools they be — decided to beat him to ye. They gossip, far worse than any woman ever thought to. Word soon spread about the magic water.” Drunk and tired, he yawned loudly then tried to shake the cobwebs from his head.
“How did ye come to ken the water was no’ magic?” Caelen asked.
“’Twas me uncle that figured out there had to be more to it than water. He went to Gelis with a proposition, a way of gettin’ access to yer lands. Me uncle wanted a softer approach with ye, but Gelis grew tired of waitin’. That be when he hired the mercenaries.”
Caelen’s ears perked up and he took a step forward. “Mercenaries?” he asked, his brow furrowed, his face angry. “And they were to make it look like me clan was responsible?”
Bhruic nodded. “Aye, and they almost succeeded.”
“Who be the mercenaries?” Caelen demanded to know.
“John McRamey and his lot.”
Caelen’s face contorted into fury. Fiona could read her husband’s mind all too well. He was plotting his revenge against the McRamey as well as Gelis and Edgar.
Collin asked the next question. “So the idea was to have us go to war with the McDunnahs? But why?”
“They feared that since ye were the only one who had no’ yet proposed to Fiona, she might seek ye out fer an alliance. Ye have too many allies of yer own fer the Farquar to go up against. The idea was to have Fiona hatin’ ye, so that she’d go to them fer help. When that didna work, me uncle came up with the idea that I should marry Fiona.”
Silence fell across the room for a long moment, whilst Fiona, Caelen and Collin digested what they were learning.
“And when that did no’ work, they took yer daughter.”
Bhruic swallowed hard again as his eyes watered.
“But to what end? Ye be married to Alyse. How is keepin’ ye from yer daughter to solve anythin’?” Fiona asked.
Bhruic choked back his own tears and remained mute.
“Bhruic, what are ye no’ tellin’ us?”
He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and took a fortifying breath. “I’m to kill ye and make it look like Caelen did it. Then I’m to kill Caelen and make it look as though he was overcome with guilt and took his own life.”
Caelen chuckled half-heartedly. “No’ bloody likely.”
They were preparing to take Bhruic back to the keep where they could keep a watchful eye, when a hurried knock came at the door. Caelen opened it. Two of Collin’s men were there, and they looked extremely worried.
“Collin,” the taller of the two came rushing into the hut.
Collin stood to face the young man. “What be the matter, Rolph?”
The young man looked reticent to speak. His words came rushing out, almost indiscernible. “It be William! They were on patrol last night and when they did no’ return this morn, I sent a search party out.”
“Why the bloody hell did ye no’ tell me?” Collin and Fiona said in unison.
Rolph wasn’t sure whom he should answer. Deciding quickly it was best to answer to his chief, he said, “I be sorry, Collin. Ye can beat me senseless later. Our men have just returned.” He then pulled a folded piece of parchment from inside his tunic and handed it to Collin.
Blood was spattered across the parchment. Collin unfolded it and read it.
All color drained from his face.
“What be wrong?” Fiona asked, knowing she was not going to like the answers.
“They killed everyone, save fer William,” Rolph told Fiona and Caelen.
Tears filled Fiona’s eyes. She was glad for the steadying arm Caelen wrapped around her waist, especially after looking at her brother.
Collin cleared his throat once, then twice. “William has been kidnapped.”
Caelen's Wife, Book Three Page 8