She smiled and nodded.
“I’m not.” He whispered the words. No guilt in him. No shame. “Uradech was mean.”
That was true. She hefted Finn into her arms and hugged him. He helped by holding her around the neck and wrapping his legs tight around her.
“Dear child, yet another thing ye need to keep to yerself.” She said the words at his ear, glancing around to be sure no one had overheard.
They continued their trek across the glen, the wooden poles in the distance. The men would take Uradech’s body and lay him across the logs on the top before starting a fire underneath. She’d been to a few of these ceremonies over the years, offering her own prayers to the one true God. It was out of consideration for Finn that she was usually able to stay behind, and she was fine with that. Not this time. This time they’d decided the lad needed to be a part of it. All of it. It was his uncle, after all.
When Finn got down, Ethne wrapped the blanket close against her, the wind blowing over their morose procession. A storm was coming. A strong one. It might rain for days. And poor Lachlann—poorinnocentLachlann—awaiting a trial for a crimeshecommitted.
Every time she’d tried to find him, offering to bring him water or food, they refused to give her any information. Aidan had given each of them strict orders to keep her from seeing Lachlann. She was so desperate the second night when she found the food intended for him still beside their hearth. When she told Malcolm, she was reprimanded for trying to interfere and ordered to keep to her own work.
And now, here she was in the place of honor as Uradech’s betrothed.
After several tries, the flames caught beneath the corpse and the men stepped away. A circle formed around the pyre and around the five of them: Malcolm, Domelch, Ethne, Finn and Mongfind. The baby slept peacefully in her father’s arms despite the murmuring chant as those around them began their mournful prayer song.
The conflagration finally took, and when the flames licked high enough to singe the corpse, Ethne had to look away. The tightness in her chest threatened to do her in. The disgusting smell of burning flesh covered them just as the clouds moved in from the ocean, low and ominous, to fill the meadow. The smoke had nowhere to go, and still the ceremony droned on. She stopped paying attention. To Aidan when he stood beside the flames and spoke of Uradech’s lineage. To Malcolm, whose gaze kept falling on her as if she had lost someone she cared for. To Domelch, who would probably never be the same.
When they’d all stopped their speeches, extolling the man’s virtues, and turned to her, Ethne gasped. All their expectant gazes weighed on her!
They wantedherto speak?
Oh no. Mindlessly, she backed away from them. One step after another, knocking into two men forming the circle behind her. Malcolm lifted a hand toward her, his eyes rounded with concern, but she could not let him touch her. If he touched her, he’d unleash the scream trapped inside. The scream telling them all how much she disliked the man. The scream telling them all howshehad killed him, not Lachlann. The scream that, once unleashed, would never be silenced again.
All she could do was shake her head and back away. She had to get away from these people, away from their sick ceremony. Away from the truth of what she’d done. All while Lachlann was kept apart, awaiting a possible death sentence, for being a good man. A better man than she’d ever known.
“Let her be, Malcolm.” Aidan’s voice carried to her. “I will deal with her when we return.”
She turned and ran. That threat and what Aidan might mean spurred her back toward the hill. She ran harder, stumbling several times for her effort. When the trail split and the path to the cave came in sight, she resisted the urge to continue down the road to the castle, to seek out assistance for Lachlann, and escape once and for all. She would not leave Lachlann, not after he had lied to protect her. She didn't deserve such gallantry.
She groaned, a desperate sound. Lachlann had seemed so convinced it would work out. She had known better. As did his friends, or so it seemed since they’d completely abandoned him.
Gasping for breath and with every limb threatening to collapse, she stopped. She needed to rest. To make a plan. Mayhap after some time away from the others, a plan would come to her. Mayhap she’d figure out what to do. She prayed it would be so because, as of yet, she could barely think.
In the midst of the open heath, she slowly twirled to scan the area around her. Her heart clenched with hope. If only she could locate Lachlann, she could help him escape. She had a general idea of where the pit was located. Everyone did. It was along the ridge where the many shrubs, heather, and stiff tufts of grass seemed to mock her feeble attempt to discern the well-hidden entrance.
“Lachlann!” She bellowed his name, half-expecting to see Niall and Aldred poke their heads up, but there was nothing. No response except that every creature became silent. She called again. And again. Until she was hoarse and could scream no more.
Once within the cave, the strong draft blew about the small pile of kindling and cooking items that lay discarded. Left behind like they mattered little, like the people who lived here had just up and left, never to return. Ethne clutched her arms to her chest and let the desolation roll over her.
It was only the people that used the items that gave them their importance, to warm the small area and bring light into the darkness, to prepare a meal and sustain themselves for another day. It would take time to collect more dry leaves and twigs to build another fire once they returned and that would prolong their hunger. Domelch’s treasured brush lay half-buried in the sand, no longer having a place on the gilded stool to keep it from harm. In her mind Ethne saw Domelch sitting there, Uradech beside her.
Some items could be easily replaced. Others not so much. Ethne closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the stale air. She could either curl into a ball and cry herself to sleep, or she could stiffen her back and work out a plan to move forward. With a firm shake of her head, she opened her eyes and began to gather fresh kindling.
After seeing to the fire, she sat and nibbled at her thumb nail. Her gaze went toward the narrow passage to the hidden area. It certainly didn't look like a passage, more like a shadow cast against the wall. It had often been a place of refuge for her and Finn, to be protected from visitors and those who would harm a young woman alone with a small child. Now, it was a place of hidden treasure. That silver could be the very thing she needed to get help. If she offered it to Aidan, could she arrange Lachlann’s release? No. Their chieftain had little interest in material wealth.
Slipping through the narrow crevice, she thought of how to approach someone she didn’t know. A woman traveling alone. And desperate. No one was more vulnerable. If she asked the wrong man, he’d realize she had no protector and take whatever he wanted from her. The right man might offer to be that protection.
She’d hoped for an opportunity to speak with Niall or Aldred alone to find out if they were planning to break Lachlann out of his hellhole, but they’d not been seen since Lachlann was imprisoned. And what could she say that would make them trust her enough to tell them of their plans anyway? Aldred’s obvious irritation with Lachlann could only come from realizing that Lachlann was taking the blame for Uradech’s death to protect her. Niall might also be privy to the information. They’d assume the worst since she was willing to allow an innocent man to suffer at the mercy of people who were not his own. They’d be right.
The cold was worse in this deepest part of the cave. She’d always avoided having a fire that might reveal the hiding place’s very existence. The nasty smell surrounded her. A funeral for someone from the line of kings would take many days. Alone here and expecting no one back for days, she gathered the dried leaves that blew in from the darkened crevices to start a fire, piling on the twigs scattered about. The wood so dry, it was easy to blow the fire aflame. She held out her hands and rubbed her fingers.
With a heavy heart, she crossed to the crevice overhead where the coins were hidden and climbed the boulder to reach inside. She had no choice but to go out on her own to get help for Lachlann. The sound of someone coughing startled her. She jumped off the rock. It came again, and she instinctively glanced toward the darkness in the corner where the sound had come from. The distance was only a bit farther than her stretched arms, but the darkness had always kept her away from that end. That and the sound of small, scurrying creatures.
Everyone was gone now, so no one should be here. Only Lachlann had been left behind in some pit. When someone sneezed, she drifted toward the sound, her body casting an ominous shadow along the wall from the light of the fire. She slid her hands, scraping her palms along the crevices that remained, some deep and wide, others barely small veins. Another sneeze. Her breath stilled in her chest.
“Lachlann?” She whispered the name, closing her eyes to better use her other senses. She spoke louder. “Lachlann? Is that ye?”
