Gray dreaded the chore set before him. Aileas wanted to see Beala and by rights as Fearghal’s mother, Gray could not deny her. He scrubbed a hand over his tired eyes. Lore, he would be glad when all this was over. He hoped Aileas wished to take Fearghal’s body with her. In fact, he would suggest it. What better way to rid MacKenna keep of the wickedness Aileas and her son had stirred?
Trulie met him at the top of the stair. The love shining in her eyes was all that gave him strength. He held out a hand and felt the tension slip away as Trulie slid her hand into his. Blessed be Tamhas and Granny Sinclair for bringing this woman to him.
“Fearghal will be gone by sunset,” she whispered. “Death rattles in his lungs.”
“Aye.” Gray sucked in a deep breath as he tucked her close to his side. What else could he say? No love or even basic respect had ever existed between himself and Fearghal. He regretted the coward had suffered such an end. But from what he had gathered, Fearghal had chosen his destiny by his actions. Gray believed in accountability for choices made and Fearghal’s situation confirmed that conviction.
“Who is that?” Trulie whispered with a glance down the staircase.
“Aileas’s most loyal servant.” Gray actually felt sorry for the woman who had cursed him with so many unpleasant hours. “He will more than likely join her retinue when she returns to sanctuary.”
“The chieftain has stated I may question the prisoner.” Aileas’s loud, unpleasant voice boomed down the corridor.
Gray sucked in another deep breath as they rounded the corner. Lore, he felt as though he walked toward his own end. Two burly warriors barred Aileas from the room where they had placed Beala. They stood broad shoulder to broad shoulder with arms crossed and eyes fixed straight ahead.
Aileas waited with her fists clutched just below her sagging bosom. Her expression soured even further when her gaze fell first on Trulie and then on Gaedric. She jerked her chin toward them. “Those two have no right here.”
Gray halted and slid his other hand atop Trulie’s where she held onto his arm. “My betrothed has every right because I say it is so.” He glared at red-faced Aileas, daring her to argue.
Aileas motioned toward Gaedric with a flip of her hand. “And him? He has no duty here.”
“On the contrary,” Gray replied. “Gaedric has sworn fealty to ye and yer father’s clan. Ye should be honored by his presence.”
Aileas huffed a disgusted breath as she whirled back and faced the stoic guards. “I have no time for such. Now, do ye mean to allow me to pass or not?”
Gray motioned to the guard on the left. “Open the door.”
As the door swung open, Beala hopped down from the wide stone seat located below the room’s high, narrow window. Her thin hands fluttered nervously up and down the wrinkled folds of her plain linen shift.
When Gray bent and entered the room, Beala’s sunken eyes rounded even wider in her pale, drawn face. Her bare feet slapped against the floor as she skittered to the farthest corner with her odd hitching run. “Ye must not touch me. Fearghal is my husband!”
“Lying bitch!” Aileas roared as she exploded into the room. Gray grabbed her arm and held her back as she strained to reach the girl.
“Get behind me,” Gray hissed to Trulie.
Gaedric limped his way into the room after them. The agitated man looked around, then moved to stand beside Gray. “Yer woman will be safe behind us.”
“Leave hold of my arm.” Aileas twisted in Gray’s grasp. “Leave hold of me now.”
“I said ye could come and question the girl. I never gave ye permission to attack her.” Gray yanked Aileas back and brought his face close to hers. “If ye try to harm her again I shall have the guards remove ye.”
Aileas’s bloodshot eyes narrowed as her gaze darted first to Gray, then toward the corner where Beala cowered. “Agreed,” she finally said.
Gray forced himself not to recoil. For the thousandth time since he had known Aileas, he wondered how the hell his father had ever married such a vile woman. He released her arm and eased back a step. “Ye may question the woman. That is all.”
Aileas jerked the wrinkles from her sleeve and smoothed her thick hands down her skirts. She straightened her broad, rounded shoulders and walked slowly toward Beala.
Beala crouched behind the upended cot she had pulled to the corner. The closer Aileas approached, the higher the young girl peeped from behind her barricade. A smile lit up her small, pinched face. “Mother Aileas.” Beala clapped her hands with chilling excitement and tittered with a happy cackling. “Have ye finally come to praise me for helping ye and my lovely Fearghal?”
“Shut yer maw.” Aileas swiped a shaking fist through the air. “Keep yer vile mouth closed. No one wishes to hear yer lies.”
The smile faded from Beala’s face. A worried frown replaced it. “But I set the fires just as ye asked. The evil woman in the tower died so she canna cast any more spells on the keep.” Beala crept from behind the cot, her hands twisting in front of her rounded belly. “And now Fearghal can be chief. I made certain old MacKenna couldna escape the judgment of the flames either.” Beala chilled the room with an eerie singsong chant. “Old MacKenna and his witch are dancing with the devil. Old MacKenna and his whore are gone to the fiery pits of hell.”
Aileas lurched toward the girl, wrapped her pudgy hands around Beala’s throat, and charged forward. Beala crumpled under the force of Aileas’s weight. As the woman landed on top of the girl, she repeatedly bashed Beala’s head against the hard floor. “Shut it, vile bitch. I told ye hold yer tongue!”
“The babe,” Beala choked out while squirming beneath Aileas’s weight. “Take care lest ye kill Fearghal’s babe.” She weakly flailed against Aileas’ attack.
Gray charged forward, only to be yanked back by Gaedric’s iron grasp. The man’s face had turned blood red; his eyes glittered wild and crazed. Gray fell back to Trulie, spreading his arms to shield her from attack.
