“I ken it. They love it. If I didnae ken how much they dislike working in the big fields, like a farmer, I would think they would become ones themselves. I dinnae ken if they e’en ken what they want to be yet. This, though, putting a kitchen garden together makes them happy and keeps them busy.”
Callum suddenly strode into the room and the look on his face told Bethoc something had gone wrong. She was a little jealous when Brenda hurried over to him. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and was about to stand up when Callum strode over to her and sat down beside her. He bent his head and rubbed his hands over his face. Bethoc looked at Brenda, who was looking very sad, and the woman just shook her head and left.
“What is wrong, Callum?” she asked, and gently rubbed his arm.
“Cathan’s mother is dead.”
She gasped. Although she had only met with the woman a few times, and thought her a bit silly, she had seen no taint of illness. Smelled no taint at all. Now she felt bad for thinking the woman a bit dim-witted but sweet. And then there was Cathan. He had just been in with the other boys to visit her and had been so happy. She felt so very bad for the boy.
Callum looked at her, his eyes dark with sadness. “None of us kenned it but she was in touch with this mon she kenned for a verra brief while after her husband was killed. He sent a message and arranged to meet with her. She slipped into the village to see him, they argued, and he beat her to death. I am nay sure we can clean her up enough to allow Cathan to see her. She was so broken up.”
Bethoc rubbed his back. “Why? Why would she go to him secretly? She said once she left him because of what he was, was afraid of him.”
“She said that to ye?”
“Aye. She was missing him and wondered out loud why she should be and then it came out.” She sighed. “I should have told ye. Ye would have been able to keep a closer watch.”
“Nay. Ye are nay at fault in even the smallest of ways. That was a confidence between lassies and ye just kept it to yourself as ye have always done, I suspicion. But it wouldnae have helped. If she was that eager to see the fool she would have slipped away somehow. We could ne’er get her to cease thinking she needed a husband, needed a father for her boy.”
“She was saving him. Nay only from the ones who killed his da, either.”
“Aye, and we thought we had gotten her to believe it, but I think now that she simply stopped saying it. She was surprisingly stealthy about the notes and going to see him.”
“Did ye get him?”
“Oh, aye. Aye, and I was enraged. I doubt she gave him any fight at all so he was doing naught but beating on a helpless weeping woman. It angered me so much. Simon finally yanked me off the mon and I realized he was dead, didnae look much better than poor, wee Sarah.” He turned and pulled her into his arms. “I warned ye. It was the rage.”
“Did ye hit Simon when he pulled ye off?”
“Nay!” He pulled back enough to frown. “Why would I hurt him?”
“And there is the answer to your worry. Aye, ye go into a rage when ye see a child or a woman abused, and ye may need to get a rein on that, but ye are nay senseless with it for all it might seem so. Nay a danger to everyone around ye. Ye visit that rage on the one who earned it.”
Callum frowned and thought about what he said. He had known it was Simon who grabbed him, knew without looking that it was his friend. As he had stood there panting, his bloodied fists still held in front of him, he had never once thought of striking Simon. Then regret swamped him. He had looked down at the mess he had made of the man and had been sickened by it.
“How can I tell Cathan I killed the mon? He seemed to like Donal. Talked of him now and then.”
“Why do ye need to? Has he asked?”
“Aye. He worried the mon would come for him and I said he cannae because he is dead.”
“And he didnae ask why, did he.”
“Nay, but he might yet. He is still too upset o’er his mother.”
“Then dinnae say it at all. Just say the mon was killed the same way he killed Sarah.”
“Ah, that might work although it feels like a lie.” He breathed a little easier for he had not wished the boy to learn of how, mad with rage, he had broken the man into pieces.
“Weel, mayhap a wee bit, but we both ken that, if the boy asks ye directly, ye will tell him the truth.”
“Aye, ’tis true. I will.”
Callum gently hugged her and rested his chin on top of her head. Her words were not just sympathy; they made sense. He worried for a moment that he believed that only because he needed to, then decided that was not it. She made sense and he simply could not ignore that. His rage was not a blind one, but it did need to be controlled. He could not just beat to death every man who raised his hand against a woman or a child, and not just because some of them were very high born and it would only get him hanged. It made him judge, jury, and executioner.
He needed to speak with Payton, he decided. It was time that Bethoc had a good talk with a Murray. She had met Brett but they had not realized she had one of those strange gifts that ran rampant in the family. Now that he was aware of it, he believed she needed to talk to someone who had knowledge of such things. Bethoc handled it well but he thought it might be because she had thought everyone could do as she did. She had certainly blurted it out to him and Uven as if they would know exactly what she was talking about. If nothing else, she needed to understand the need to be secretive.
“We are going to visit Payton and Kirstie” he announced, and kissed her.
