“So you have finally returned,” Margaretha said. “Where have you been?”
Val looked at his mother, feeling a stab of shame and sorrow. There was so much he had to tell her. In spite of the fact that she could be harsh and antagonistic, she also had the ability to be wise and calm. She had helped him through many a crisis with her sage advice. He trusted her.
“I took McCloud and Lady Vesper to Bishop’s Waltham,” he said, his tone dull. “I had not expected to go so far with them, but it was a good thing that I did. Come inside, Mother. I must speak with you.”
Curious at her son’s tone, Margaretha permitted him to take her by the arm and turn her around, entering the keep and heading for the small hall beyond. Already, she could feel his sorrowful mood.
“Valor, what is the matter?” she asked. “Why do you sound as if you have been beaten?”
Val could only shake his head. The dimly lit small hall greeted them and Val released his mother, heading straight for the pitcher of wine on the table. He didn’t bother to collect a cup; he drank straight from the pitcher, great gulps of the sweet red wine. Margaretha stood by the table, watching him with increasing concern.
“Valor?” she asked, her voice considerably softer. “What has happened? Please tell me.”
Val took another gulp of wine. He didn’t seem apt to look her in the eye. “You were right,” he said quietly. “About McCloud, I mean. You were right in your assessment of his character and I was wrong. I knew the man from years ago when he had honor. You saw that the man before you had none. You were correct about that, Mother.”
Margaretha, surprisingly, wasn’t one to gloat, not when the mood was as heady as it was. She was wise enough to know that there was no point. “Sit down,” she said softly. “Tell me what happened.”
Val did as he was told but he kept a firm grip on the wine pitcher. After a moment, he snorted ironically. “I hardly know where to start,” he said. “It seems that McCloud has changed much over the years. His farm has fallen into poverty and he and his son were starving. His son, being a simple-minded man with no sense of right or wrong, proceeded to go out into the countryside to kill people and take their food. This has been going on for a solid year, evidently, and the locals down in Bishop’s Waltham had taken to calling this murderer the Angel of Death. McCloud hid that from me, all of it. But that is not the worst part.”
Margaretha was listening with growing horror and struggling not to show it. “How did you discover this?”
Val looked at her, then. “When we entered Bishop’s Waltham yesterday, as it is only a short distance from McCloud’s farm, the locals had captured their Angel of Death. It seems that while McCloud was gone, his son killed again, this time two children, and he was discovered. By the time we got there, he’d been restrained and the town was going mad over the capture. That prompted McCloud’s confession. Or, shall I say, Vesper’s confession.”
Margaretha swallowed hard. “Sweet Mary,” she breathed. “She was complicit as well?”
Val shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Not complicit. She had only just found out about her brother’s activities when McCloud recently visited her at Eynsford. That is why they were coming home; Vesper thought she could stop whatever was happening. I feel a good deal of pity for the lass, in truth; she enjoyed a good reputation at Eynsford as a trusted woman of character, and then she finds herself part of a family of murderers. She thought she could fix the problem, as she put it, but it was bigger than she imagined. It was she who confessed the situation whenit became obvious that both she and McCloud knew the man known as the Angel of Death.”
Margaretha was truly astonished by the tale. “What did you do?” she asked. “Did you punish them all?”
Val shook his head. Then, he downed what was left in the wine pitcher, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Not all of them,” he said. “I had a confession from the murderer and eye witness accounts from people who saw him kill the children in his most recent killing spree. Based on that, I executed him on the spot. I will deal with McCloud at a later time; I simply didn’t have the will to do it. Discovering a longtime friend was an accessory to murder has not settled well with me. Worse still, he was evidently plotting to marry you for your money and marry Vesper to me so he and his son would never have to worry about food or money again. Even though you are a handsome woman, Mother, McCloud was trying to manipulate you. And I let him. I should have protected you against it and I did not.”
Margaretha was disappointed to hear that. Not disappointment in her son, but disappointed that she no longer had a male suitor. She had been rather pleased about that, in truth. It had been a very long time since a man paid her flattery but now to discover it had been with an ulterior motive in mind was disheartening.
“As you said, you saw the noble man you used to know,” she said, trying to sound as if McCloud’s flattery had not affected her. “You did not know what he had become, Val, although I tried… well, I will not say that I tried to warn you. Even I could not imagine how horrific your friend’s life had become. But I am sorry for you. I know he was your friend.”
Val just sat and stared into space, the wine in his veins starting to have some effect. It was giving him a bit of a foggy head, which he’d hoped for. Perhaps it would dull his angst.
“People change,” he said. “Did you not tell me that? You were right.”
Margaretha wasn’t going to confirm something he already knew. “What of Lady Vesper?” she asked. “What became of her?”
Val sighed heavily; that question seemed to affect him even more than the situation with McCloud. “She has returned to Eynsford,” he said with sadness. “She is under the opinion that it would not do for me to be keeping company with a woman from a family of murderers. She feels that by my courting her, it will destroy my reputation. She is afraid of what people will think.”
Margaretha was rather surprised to hear that. It spoke to her of a young woman who was more ethical than her father and more level-headed than her son. She knew Val was smitten with the girl; that had been obvious. He was thinking emotionally. But she tried to be sympathetic.
“And you?” she asked quietly. “What do you think?”
His jaw ticked faintly. “It is not her fault that her brother killed and her father let him,” he said. “She had no part in it. I still intend to court her, Mother. You may not want to hear that, but it is my intention. She has gone back to Eynsford, at her request, and I am to stay away from her for a time so we can each decide if we want to continue this courtship. I have already made my decision.”
“It was her decision that you should stay away from her?”
“Aye. She does not believe that I am thinking clearly on how a relationship with her will affect my future and my reputation.”
Margaretha was starting to like Vesper. She’d truly not had much contact with the young woman but hearing that she’d been most reasonable in this situation, Margaretha approved. Whether or not she actually approved of the woman herself was another matter, but at least she approved of her decision making. She had a feeling, however, that Val didn’t want to hear that.
After a moment, she stood up.
