Aldred scratched the whiskers on his chin. “Something wasna right there, that’s true enough.”
“Yea, then we found her with Peter and they were under attack.” Niall laughed. “I dunna ken what that was about.”
“But ye and Aldred brought the little man and his friends to the coast for Peter, did ye not?” Lachlann’s tone held his disbelief. “Did they saynothing?”
“We were not listening to their blathering. We were glad to be rid of him,” Niall said.
“Ye had the better end of the trade with that little fox hugging ye the whole way to Tanshelf.” Aldred’s wide eyes and raised brows accused Lachlann right back.
Lachlann grinned. “Aye, she was a fair lass with her auburn hair and huge, brown eyes. And her bre—”
Thomasina glared at him. “So what of the man named Peter? Sean said he knew him?”
“So he must be from Brighit’s clan in Eire. Mayhap he was here for her?”
Thomasina’s heart lurched at the idea of Sean coming all this way for some woman named Brighit.
“He said Peter would vouch for him. They sent messengers to York so he is safe for the time being.”
Sean sat with his legs secured by a heavy chain threaded through a solid iron hook driven into the ground. He’d spent the first hour trying to pull the thing out the ground. Then half the night using the chain itself as a lever. He’d yanked up with a steady force until his arms could no longer handle the heavy weight. The thing hadn’t moved.
He lifted one leg as far as he could without causing the other to move. It was quite an ingenuous device. He had several yards of chain if he kept one foot close to the post but if he pulled it through, he could shuffle around it.
The ground was hard and cold. His limbs were cramping up. He had been smelling meat roasting for an hour now. His stomach continued to growl. He scooted back and leaned his shoulder against the tree stump behind him. It was going to be a long day.
A bat flew out from the trees to his left. He leaned forward and waited. A small dark figure emerged from the forest. It seemed to drift toward him, shifting in the darkness. He rubbed his tired eyes.
“Leave me. I’ve nothing more to tell ye.” Sean leaned back again.
“Nothing to say to me?”
Ivan.
Outrage washed over him. Sean jumped to his feet, wincing as pain shot through every part of his battered body. He turned to the man who was just now visible. “Ye dare show yer face?”
Ivan stopped just shy of Sean being able to reach him.
“Why not?” Ivan opened his upturned hands. “You are a man. I am a man. We have much in common.”
“We have nothing in common. Ye’re the worst kind of man. Ye’re a scoundrel, not even a man.”
“Why? Because I turned you in?”
“Yea, we call that bearing false witness where I come from.” Sean was surprised at his own unexpected outburst. He wasn’t the best Christian but apparently he listened to something the village priest said.
“’Tis where I come from as well.” Ivan tipped his head. “I just believe the ends may justify the means.”
“Ye’ll burn in hell.” Sean faced straight ahead.
Ivan shook his head with deliberation before he spoke. “I’m not certain you understand the tight spot you’re in here.”
He paused as if waiting to see if Sean would respond. He did not.
“No messengers have been sent to York. There will be no word from Peter of Normandy.”
Sean turned toward him at that. The enormity of the situation sunk into his tired brain. The Normans wanted him dead.
“The soldiers believe they have their man. And I, naturally, reassured them when they came to question me yet again.”
