“Aside from the fact that Gybbon insists he should pay Sigimor for the cider and ale, no.” Jolene took her by the hand and caught Andrew by his to lead them into the somewhat fancy little sitting room Jolene had set up for herself and any ladies who happened to come by. “Sigimor decided to slip you two into the cart out this way as it can be brought closer to the door, so if you are in sight, it will only be for a very short time if at all.”
“He has really planned this out,” Mora whispered in amazement.
“Aye.” Jolene picked up a crate but shook her head when Mora reached for the other one. “You are not to lift anything heavy for a while. Your wound has closed and looks fine, but the skin is fragile there, so you must play the invalid for a while. A very annoying pose to hold but, trust me, just reminding yourself that if you ruin my work you will have to go through all the mending steps you have done already all over again can be enough to make you behave.”
Sigimor stepped up to the door, leaned against the frame, and held his cloak out a bit. “Tuck yourself up in here, lad,” he said to Andrew, and the boy hurried to do so. “Feet on my foot and hold on to my leg. Good lad,” he said, and walked back to the cart after taking the crate from Jolene.
Mora watched as he went to the rear of the cart, talked to Gybbon, and Andrew quietly slipped into the back of the cart. Even she barely caught a glimpse of the child and she knew where to look. Sigimor then slid the crate in place.
He came back to the door, stood in the same position, half inside, half outside, and took the second crate from Jolene. “Now, lass, under the cloak, feet on my foot and arms about my waist. I tested this out with Jolene so ken I can walk fair normal when ye do.”
“I am more weight than Andrew.”
“Nay by much, I suspect.”
Taking a deep breath, Mora did as he asked. She found it odd to be hugging another man but fascinated by the way it did not affect her at all. If it had been Gybbon she was sure it would have. When Sigimor stopped, she scrambled into the back of the cart as quickly as she could and watched the crate be slid in behind her. She sat next to Andrew and, for once in her life, was very pleased that she was rather small for a grown woman.
A moment later, Gybbon slid his arm in and reached into the crate. That was when Mora realized that was where they had put her bag. She watched with a little smile as Gybbon scratched her cat’s ears before he pulled his arm away. Freya climbed out to sit on Mora’s lap. She doubted Robert would have recognized her bag, but Sigimor had even thought about that possibility. Jolene was right. Her husband was a very careful planner.
“It is like we are in a cave or my safe place,” said Andrew.
“Aye, it is,” she said, and hoped she would not give in to her small fear of such places.
The bright sun shone through the blanket enough to lighten where they were, but it was still a small place to spend three days in. There were enough small gaps in the arrangement to let air in, so they probably would not get too short of fresh air. Nevertheless, Mora knew it was going to be a very long journey.
She idly stroked her cat and wondered what they could do to pass the hours they would be stuck in this place. There was only so much one could talk about to a boy who was barely seven. Mora tried to think of what stories she could recall and was sad to admit she knew very few. She had listened to ones her parents told but had to confess she had made no real effort to recall them later. Looking all around, she noticed the blanket was tied down on the top, but where the ties were there were a few gaps so they might be able to spend a little time just watching what went by.
“What do ye do when ye are up in your safe place by yourself for a while?” she asked Andrew.
“I tell myself stories.”
“I thought of that, but I dinnae recall many.”
“I can tell ye some stories.”
“That would be nice and might pass some time.”
“Niall and David often told me some, although David sometimes smacked Niall on the head because he said that he shouldnae be telling a small boy that.” Andrew heaved a sigh that Mora felt was too big and filled with sadness for a small boy. “They were funny though. I miss Niall and David,” he added softly.
“So do I, Andrew. So do I.”
“It is only ye and me left in our family.”
“I ken it, which is why we must do everything these men tell us to do, even if it means we have to stay in this small place for a few days.”
“Aye. Then when I get big and Gybbon or Sigimor trains me, I can kill cousin Robert.”
Mora nearly wept. He was too young to have thoughts of a bloody revenge. At his age, his thoughts should be of wondrous tales and playing with other boys. Yet, she could think of nothing to say. She wanted that, too, only in her thoughts it was she who would strike the blow.
She leaned back against the pillows Jolene had insisted be put in and tried to think. There was a hard fight ahead as Robert would not give up. The only thing she was sure of was that she did not want anyone else hurt or killed because of her relations.
It was true that she could not fight a battle with a man with fist or weapon, but she had the wit to figure out some way that would make it so Robert had to cease his mad attempt to take all her father had gotten as an inheritance. The laird needed to be told the truth. It would hurt her uncle, but far better his feelings were savaged than men who had no part in this argument got hurt or killed. All she had to decide was the best way to get the truth to her uncle.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. When said, it sounded so simple, so easy, but she knew it was a dangerous thought. Robert could well have allies within his father’s guard. How could she get the truth to him through what could prove a large force of armed men on Robert’s side? It was a trouble that needed a great deal of thought and planning.
Chapter Eleven
Staring up at Gybbon as he lifted the blanket to hand her something to drink, Mora tried to hide the foul mood she was in. He did not deserve anger from her, he was just trying to help her. She just wished that help would have come in a nice open wagon or on a horse and with something to make the time pass. Mora took a long drink of water and handed the water skin to Andrew.
