Bethoc tensed. “A boy. Do ye ken if she said what he looks like? Ye ken Kerr liked to get boys to work his fields and I may ken who the lad is.”
“Aye, she always spoke of his big brown eyes. She had them too. Big eyes, deep brown, and so full of expression until these bastards killed all the life in them. And I guess he was a clever wee fellow. She was so proud of him but ne’er saw him again before she was hanged.”
“Do ye ken how old he was?”
“Five? Six? He wasnae a bairn. Why?”
“Aye, I think Kerr had him, took him, whate’er. Ye ken the boy who stepped forward to describe the five men I blame for Kerr’s murder?” Laurel nodded. “That was Magnus. He is six and he has those eyes. Big, brown, full of expression. He has been with us for seven months now though so it doesnae fit, does it?”
“It may. I only caught a glimpse of him but if he has anything of his mother in him, I would recognize it once I got a good look at him. I still see the look in her eyes as they led her off to her hanging, see them in my sleep. The resignation, the depth of the sadness, was heartbreaking. She kenned she was going to die, her good name now blackened by a crime she didnae commit. And, at times, when she talked of her lad, I got the feeling she spoke of a dead child or one lost to her for a while.”
“If fate allows it, I will get ye that look at him.”
Both women tensed as footsteps echoed in the hall. Laurel whimpered faintly and disappeared into her disguise as a pile of rags. Bethoc felt her heart start to pound so fast and hard she feared it could break free of her chest. They had not given her as much time to recover from a near drowning as they had before. She was terrified Laurel was right about what followed the fourth dunking.
The sheriff and his two silent guards stopped before her cell. There was a look on the man’s face that told what she feared was going to happen. So did the absence of William. She stepped back and kept trying to step back as they unlocked the door and walked inside. The two guards leapt forward and grabbed her by the arms. To her shock, Laurel suddenly came alive and leapt at the men, her hands curved into claws.
“Bitch!” screamed the sheriff as Laurel’s nails scraped his face before one of his men pulled her off.
The battle was short but vicious. All the men were bleeding slightly before Laurel was knocked back against the wall so hard she lost consciousness. Bethoc kept struggling in an attempt to get free and go to her aid but the sheriff’s men just tightened their grip on her. As they dragged her out of her cell she saw Laurel move and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sir Callum said ye had best nay leave a mark on me,” she said.
“Then we will hold ye verra gently,” said the sheriff and the way the guards laughed chilled her blood.
So terrified she could think of nothing else to say, she concentrated on doing what she could to stop her progress down the hall. They passed a cell and she saw a woman sprawled on the floor, coughing and choking as she emptied her lungs and belly of water. The men did not even glance at the woman. At that moment her hatred of the men hardened. It would not do any good, would not save her, but it was there in her heart, cold and hard and begging for vengeance.
“Are ye nay e’en going to ask for my confession?” she demanded as they shoved her into a room.
“Ye will give it to us before long,” said the sheriff.
“But I am ready to give it now and save ye all the trouble of pulling it out of me.”
“It willnae be any trouble.”
The two men yanked her back and tossed her down onto a bed. Bethoc fought hard but they managed to get her hands and feet tied to the posts. Then she looked at the sheriff, who smiled coldly, and began to pray for Callum to arrive. She just wished there was some small chance her prayers would be answered.
Chapter Twelve
Callum helped carry the men into the sheriff’s and frowned when he found a strange man in the sheriff’s seat. “Where is the sheriff?”
“He is busy now. I am William and ye can tell me your business.” The man leaned back in his seat and crossed his impressive arms over his chest. “What do ye want?”
“I have the men who killed Kerr Matheson and murdered Robert MacKray.”
“Aye?” The man stood up and looked over the desk, peering down at the two bound men. “Why do ye think they are guilty?”
“Because they told us,” said Sir Simon. “They confessed it to me.”
“And who are ye?”
“Lord Simon Innes, laird of Lochancorrie, and I used to be kenned as the King’s Hound.”
The way William reacted told Callum he had heard of Sir Simon. He paled and carefully moved back to sink down in his chair. His big hands clenched the arms of the chair. For a moment he stared at Sir Simon in silence, his wide eyes showing fear, and then he cleared his throat.
“What do ye want?”
“I want Bethoc Matheson and Laurel MacKray released. Here are the guilty men so ye can set the women free. They are clearly nay guilty. Now, where are they?” demanded Callum.
