He sounded so calm, so eminently reasonable as he talked of his mad plan. It was as if he considered the people who had been gifted with Keddie land or bought it nothing but thieves. He could talk all he wanted and Bethoc knew she would never fully understand. Innocent people had been killed because he was disappointed in what he would receive from his father when the older man died.
Somehow she had to get away from the man but she had no idea how. Nor did she know how to get Robbie free yet she could not leave him behind. She was looking around the room as cautiously as she could when she caught sight of a movement beneath her bed. Her heart pounding with the fear that it might be one of the children, she tried to keep a watch on it without appearing to.
“Ye never said how ye got out of jail,” she said.
“What doesthatmatter? Weel, if ye must ken, it was my brother Keith’s fault.” He smiled and held his knife out as if pointing at her. “Came to visit me. Keith was always a fool. Big of heart, short on wit. Couldnae believe I could do what was said, wanted me to deny it or tell him why. Told him I didnae ken.” He laughed and it made Bethoc feel cold. “Then acted all broken and sorry. Acted like I was trying to cut my wrist open on the bedpost, which was iron then picked up a piece of wood and was trying to stab myself. The fool thought I was really trying to kill myself.” He laughed again and Bethoc prayed nothing would amuse him again for it was a horrible sound. “Fool bent o’er me and I caught him in my legs then strangled him. So here I am. Here to finish a wee bit of business before I run.”
“Ye killed your own brother?” She chanced a glance under the bed but saw nothing and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Aye, and now I mean to kill ye and that big fool in the chair.”
“Wait! What did ye do with the children of the people ye killed?”
“Dumped them on the streets of the next village. Probably too young to survive but”—he shrugged—“stupid people breed like bloody rabbits.”
“They were just bairns!”
“Get his back to me.”
Bethoc blinked and tried not to look at Robbie when she heard those whispered words. “Nay a kill to be proud of,” she said, struggling to think of a way to get him in the position she assumed Robbie wanted. “Just toss them aside and let nature do the work for ye.” If the narrow-eyed look he was giving her was any indication, she had succeeded in getting his mind off how many ways he could boast of his cleverness.
He lunged for her and she darted out of the way. The knife he held was long and looked sharp but she tried not to be distracted by it. As she waited for him to make his next lunge she tried to think of how many more times she needed him to move then decided it was useless. She could not plan what move he would take. He lunged again as she barely got out of the way in time, the knife slicing her skirts. For a moment he actually chased her but finally stopped. As she faced him again she realized she finally had him with his back to Robbie but was he close enough? To her surprise she discovered the fool was winded from the short chase.
“Out of breath?” she asked in surprise. “O’er a wee bit of dashing about?”
“Ye bitch! Ye willnae get away.”
“Ye cannae e’en catch me without panting like a hard-run horse. I think ’tis time ye went back to jail.”
She tried very hard not to watch Robbie for fear it would warn the man. Robbie pulled his hands from behind him and she wondered how he got them untied. Slowly, silently, he stood up. One silent step brought him up hard behind Angus. So quick she gasped, he grabbed Angus by the head, wrenched his head around, and she heard the awful sound of his neck snapping. She stared at Robbie.
“I think ye have killed him,” she whispered.
“Aye, he did.”
Bethoc’s eyes widened even more when she looked toward the door. The laird stood there, flanked by two of his sons, one looking pale and bruised. He stared down at Angus who sprawled on the floor like a broken doll. Robbie stood tall and rubbed at his newly freed wrists.
“I am so sorry, m’laird,” said Bethoc.
“Better this way. And he gave ye no choice. He wanted to kill ye, that big fellow, and would probably have even killed the wee lass peering round him.”
She spun around to stare horrified at Margaret. The little girl smiled, stepped out from behind Robbie, and held up a rope. Suddenly Bethoc knew what she had seen under the bed.
“Margaret!” Even Bethoc could hear both a scold and relief in her voice.
“Fix,” Margaret said, and looked at Robbie. “See? Fix.”
“Aye,” Robbie said. “Ye did weel, lass.”
“Ye had her help ye?”
“Och, nay, ne’er thought of it. But I was struggling to get loose when I felt a wee hand slap mine out of the way and then she got to work. Couldnae say anything so just had to let her do it.” He frowned. “An odd skill in such a wee child.”
“Aye. Allow me to show ye her favorite toy.”
Robbie watched Bethoc go to a big chest, open it, and then pull out a length of rope. The rope had a line of knots on it. He looked down at Margaret who was doing an odd little hopping dance and clapping her hands as Bethoc walked back and waved the rope at Robbie.
“How long has she been doing it?” Robbie asked, fascinated.
