Glancing back at Sigimor, he nodded, letting him know they would soon have the boy, and the man went to don his large cloak, which he planned to hide the boy under as they rode. He looked back into the tree and came face to face with a handsomely carved soldier, sword in hand. The small, pale hand holding it out was shaking a little.
“Come on, lad, almost there.”
“Could ye please hold the Bruce for me? I need both hands to finish getting down.”
“The Bruce?” he said as he took the finely made soldier. “Very fine name for him.”
He looked up as the boy dropped to the ground. His clothes were dirty and Gybbon could see a few torn spots, but no wounds were visible. The dirt on his face was well smeared by tears, and Gybbon caught the boy by the hand to pull him outside the tree. Sigimor returned and studied the child, then looked at the wooden soldier. Gybbon almost grinned as the child looked up at Sigimor and his eyes widened.
Sigimor wrapped his arm around the boy’s waist and hefted him up while the wide-eyed Andrew snatched back his soldier and held it in front of him. “Now, lad, while we ride to my home I will have to keep ye covered by my cloak but dinnae be afraid. Ye have the Bruce.”
“Aye. My da gave it to me. Are Mora and Freya really at your house?”
“Och, aye. That cat has even eaten at my table like a wee, furry princess.”
The boy giggled and Gybbon shook his head. Say what one would about the many things that might be wrong with the man, he had a gift of making children feel safe. Andrew did not even protest as he was set up on Sigimor’s large horse, then Sigimor mounted and wrapped his cloak around the boy.
“Sit hard up against me, lad, so there is no part of ye to see, nay even the shape of ye, and we will go to join your sister.”
Chapter Nine
Jolene met them at the door. “Oh, thank God, ye found him,” she said as Sigimor set the boy on his feet and then shed his own cloak.
Andrew pressed himself hard up against Gybbon’s legs and stared up at Jolene. “She is English!”
“Aye, laddie.” Sigimor walked over to stand next to Jolene, who was trying hard to hide her irritation, and he put his arm around her, tugging her close to him. “We noticed that but I wed her anyway.” He grunted when she elbowed him in the side.
“Are the English hunting me, too?”
“Nay, laddie,” said Gybbon, and he ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “As Sigimor said, she is wed to him.”
Then Andrew stepped away from Gybbon and gave Jolene a nice bow. “Thank ye, m’lady, for sending your husband to help me. They told me that Mora is here.”
“She is.” Jolene suddenly gasped and stared wide-eyed at Gybbon. “And she was just awake. If she hears him . . .”
“She might attempt to do something foolish like try to come hurrying down the stairs,” Gybbon said, even as he ran up the stairs to grab hold of Mora, who stood there clutching the top post. “Easy, lad,” he cautioned Andrew, when the boy ran up to her. “I fear a good hug right now could hurt her.”
Andrew frowned but grasped her by the hand instead. “They found me, Mora. I was in my safe place.”
“Good lad. Ye did right. I think that I had best get back on my bed now though,” she murmured, feeling a bit shaky.
She squeaked when Gybbon scooped her up in his arms and Andrew kept his grip on her hand, running along with them as Gybbon strode back to her room. He set her down on her bed and frowned down at her. Mora sensed a lecture coming on, but Jolene hurried over and pushed both Andrew and Gybbon away from the bed.
“Are you sure you did not open the wound again?” Jolene asked Mora.
“Aye, verra sure. I just had no strength left after the short walk to the stairs.”
“No surprise. I will have a look later, though; mayhaps change the bandage.”
“Thank ye. The cream does seem to still the sting and itch of it.”
A moment later Mora found herself alone with Gybbon and Andrew. “Maggie?” she whispered.
“We cannae be certain. The cottage was burned, but one mon, a fellow named Iain, said he saw her run out and he helped to put the fire out where her skirts had caught alight. Then she looked around, probably for Andrew, who had run off to hide by then, and then she got in her wagon, which was packed with a lot of her things. Iain said she told him not to tell anyone but Mora that she was going to her sister’s, and then she rode off. No one else has seen her. We e’en talked with Morag Sinclair.”
“Maggie went to her sister’s?”
“Aye, she did,” said Andrew. “I thought she had died in the fire. She ran into the house while it was burning fierce and the roof started falling down. I heard her scream and could see a bit of dress catch on fire, so I believed she had died. I should have waited.”
