Athol, now alive and knowing Cleve wouldn’t kill him, looked about for the outlaws, then said, “My father loves me. He will take my side. He will forgive me.”
“Actually, he won’t,” Chessa said. “Or if he does, then he has no more wisdom than you do.”
“You’re a damned witch. My mother said you were a witch after she saw you holding theburra,and I knew then it would be best if you died, your evil with you. You’re just a woman, yet you would have stuck that knife in me.”
“Mayhap you’re right that I’m a witch,” she said, just smiling at him. “You’re a fool, Athol, if you think you can ever overcome me. Don’t forget that. Your father knows me for what I am. You’re stupid if you forget it.” She knew he was watching her with fear and hatred as she walked to her mare. She stood there, waiting for Cleve to hand her up.
One of the men gave a shout. “It’s the monster. It’s Caldon! By all the gods, it’s Caldon.”
Chessa whirled about to look out over the loch. There was naught but the heavy gray mist, veiling everything in sight.
“Over on the eastern side, just yon!”
Then she saw it, a shadow, a long neck, it seemed, with perhaps a head atop that long curving neck, a small head that looked upward, then slewed about and looked toward them. But then she couldn’t be certain, for the mist divided that long neck into three parts, showing dark mottled flesh and then thick sheets of mist, mingled together until nothing was clear, nothing was certain.
The men murmured amongst themselves. They believed they saw Caldon. They believed they saw the monster of Loch Ness.
Chessa didn’t know what she saw. She looked toward Cleve, who had managed to get Athol atop his horse. He just shook his head, saying nothing.
Kiri was staring in silence toward the loch, just staring, her head cocked to one side. Igmal said to her, “The monster is a good creature, Kiri. There’s nothing to fear from it. It has a family, babies, just like you.” He paused, and Chessa knew he’d lied, and he’d done it well, cleanly and without hesitation. She wanted to kiss him, for Kiri just nodded and leaned back against his chest. Suddenly she straightened and said, “Igmal, the bearskin smells bad. I’ll wash it for you.”
The ugly man just stared down at the little girl on his lap. “You’ll wash it for me?”
“Aye, unless you have a wife. You don’t have a wife or the skin wouldn’t smell, would it?”
“You’re right about that,” Igmal said. He looked over at Chessa. “Cleve is blessed in his women.”
Athol screamed, “He’s a damned bastard! He’s nothing. You’ll see, Igmal, my father will kill you for trying to harm me. He’ll kill Cleve and he’ll kill that damned witch.”
“I wonder if he’ll leave anyone alive,” Igmal said. “Be quiet, Athol, else Cleve just might break your jaw, and I think all the men would like that.”
Chessa wondered if Athol’s mother, Argana, knew what her son had planned. She prayed it wasn’t so, but there was the woman’s silence, the woman’s utter devotion to her son. Argana was Cleve’s half sister, but still, blood was blood. She didn’t want to return to Kinloch. She didn’t want to see Varrick.
24
WHERE THE HELLwas Kiri? Cleve had looked in the sheep byre, in the privy, in the bathing hut. Where was she? He turned to look back toward the fortress, but he didn’t see her amongst all the people standing there. He strode toward the barley fields. He’d shake her good for disappearing like this.
Inside the huge fortress, Varrick, as was his wont, stood on the raised dais, regarding the fifty-some people in the great hall. He said in a calm voice that seemed to ring from the blackened wooden beams above, “Argana, you will come here to me now.”
Chessa frowned. Where was Cleve? Why was Varrick calling Argana to him? She looked to see Athol, standing next to Igmal and his men, but he didn’t look frightened. Indeed, there was a stark look of pleasure on his thin face. He looked triumphant. She frowned, puzzled. What in the name of the gods was going on here?
Argana walked tall and proud to the dais, to her husband. She stood below, flinging back her head to look up at him. “Yes, Lord Varrick? What is your pleasure?”
“You will learn of it shortly. Answer me now. Would you agree, Argana, that our son, Athol, is only a boy?”
“Aye, he is but sixteen. But he is nearly a man. You yourself have been seeking about for a suitable wife for him. You have said you wish him wedded soon. You wouldn’t want a boy to be a husband.”
“But he is still not of full reason. He is still easily swayed by those he admires, those he loves, those he trusts. Like you, Argana.”
“I trust that will be true when he has reached even your years, Lord Varrick.”
Varrick was silent, just staring at her, but Chessa wasn’t fooled, the insult had made him furious. Suddenly, a wind came from the wide-open shutters behind him. He was holding theburra,fingering its surface with his long white fingers. There was conversation all around her, low and frightened. Where was Cleve? She looked over at where Merrik and Laren stood, Laren holding Kiri. The little girl looked bored, but she stayed quiet in Laren’s arms.
Slowly, the winds died. Varrick said nothing until there was utter silence both inside and outside the fortress. He sheathed theburraonce again at his belt. It was a quick gesture, a furtive gesture. She wondered if anyone else had noticed that he’d had theburraout when the winds had so suddenly arisen. “A mother has great influence over her children, particularly her sons.”
“Aye,” Argana said quietly, “that is usually true. But here at Kinloch, with you, Lord Varrick, it isn’t. Athol takes his direction from you and from no other. All here take their direction from you and none other.”
“Didn’t you call Chessa a witch?”
