“Where is Bethoc?” Callum demanded, walking cautiously as he tested the leather boot without a foot that Colin had strapped to his leg.
“I think she went to bury Da,” said Colin. “I saw her slip away.”
“And ye didnae stop her?” Callum could not hide his shock.
“They had already killed the mon. What more could they do? I kenned they must be gone by now.”
“I dinnae ken what else they might try to do, but they also asked after all of ye. They could decide to look about the house themselves, to see if they missed something, since they had lost your trail.” He felt bad when the boy turned pale but he had no time to coddle him now. “Robbie, I need to go after Bethoc.” Callum held on tightly to his fear, keeping it under control, and patted Colin on the back. “I will get her back,” he promised.
Robbie brought Stormcloud and his mount to the cave. “I will ride with ye.”
Callum opened his mouth to argue, took one look at his friend’s face, and shut it. Robbie had that determined look on his face. It meant there would be no moving him in his decision. It could be annoying but Callum suspected it was what had saved him when he was a small, much abused child. He quietly followed the man as Robbie carefully moved the horses through the opening to the cave.
The ride to where they assumed Bethoc’s home was took longer than Callum liked. Since he did not know where she lived, and Colin’s directions were not easy to follow, he could not really complain, no matter how much he wanted to. When the small cottage appeared, he tensed. The door was wide open and it gave him a bad feeling. Callum told himself it was just because she had rushed inside but he could not shake his unease.
He stopped in front of the house and dismounted cautiously. Robbie was already striding into the house as Callum grabbed his walking stick to follow him. The chair and the blood surrounding it was the first thing that caught their eyes.
“This is where they tortured and then murdered the mon,” Callum said.
“Then they took him off with them.”
“Them?” he asked Robbie.
“Aye. More than one horse was here. Lots of tracks and footprints. Think one set of them might be your lady’s.”
Callum immediately went outside to study the ground. The closer he looked the more alarmed he became. There had been at least three men and some sort of struggle had taken place. Then the prints he had judged to be Bethoc’s disappeared.
“I think they have taken her, too, Callum,” said Robbie.
“Butwhohas taken her?”
“Weel, I am fair certain it isnae the men looking for ye. I suspicion she has been taken up by the magistrate’s or sheriff’s men, or whate’er passes for the law round here.” He clapped Callum on the back. “We can follow the trail. They made no attempt to hide it.”
“Aye. If we hurry we can see who has her.” Callum went to his horse and sighed as he had to have Robbie help him into his saddle. “E’en if it is the law, we cannae leave her in their hands for long.”
The ride into the village was another too-long trip that left Callum annoyed. There was no sign of the men who had taken Bethoc. He feared they were wrong, that it was the men who had attacked him. The only thing that stopped him from immediately believing that was that they had not found Bethoc’s body and he was certain those men would have tortured and killed her in their attempt to find him. He resolutely ignored the little voice that whispered they could have taken her elsewhere.
To his consternation, but also relief, the trail led straight to the sheriff’s. As Robbie helped him dismount, Callum considered the approach he needed to take. Despite how much he wished to simply demand Bethoc’s return, he knew he would accomplish more by being cautious in word and deed. Taking a deep breath, he prayed for strength and followed Robbie into the sheriff’s.
* * *
Bethoc had been sore by the time the horse stopped and the rough way she had been brought to the cell had not helped. The way they had dragged her into the stone building, down some narrow steps, and along a hall to the cells had given her no chance to ease her aches and pains. A bundle of rags huddled in the corner of one of those cells caught her eye but, before she could look closer, she had been dragged around a corner and thrown into a cell. A quick look around as she pulled herself to her feet revealed that she was all alone. A shiver went down her spine.
“Now, perhaps ye will tell us why ye killed your father,” said the sheriff.
“Do ye nay ken? I have said, and I will keep on saying, I didnae do it.” She fought to keep her voice quiet and calm when she had the strong urge to scream at him in fury.
“Weel, we will have to see what ye have to say about it all, later.” He looked at the man behind him. “William?”
“Aye, sir.”
The man who stepped forward made Bethoc bite back a gasp. He was huge with a wild mop of brown hair, and muscles so big she was surprised he could move. The way he stepped into her cell showed that he could move just fine and the barrel he brought in proved his muscles were not just for show, either. Bethoc heard a splashing noise and knew it did not bode well for her.
“See that she tells us the truth,” the sheriff said.
“I am telling ye the truth. I—didnae—kill—him.” The sheriff started to walk away and she ran up to the bars of her cell. “All ye have to do is think for a moment on what it would take to subdue Kerr Matheson and ye would ken full weel that is wasnae me!”
The sheriff and his men did not even hesitate in their walk away from her. She cursed and turned around only to find William standing there. It took all of her willpower to stifle a scream when he grabbed hold of her. She struggled with all of her strength but it was of no more worth than a fly struggling in a spider’s web.
