“Nay, not him but Robert. And why does he still have the sword if I stole it?”
“Ye dropped it as ye ran.”
“Ran from where?”
“From the ledger room where ye killed Old William!”
“The room just down the hall? And I ran down this hall yet no one saw me? None heard me drop the sword on the stone? Ye truly think”—she held up her arm—“that this wee bird arm could pick up a mon’s sword and use it with enough strength and skill to kill Old William?” She saw a glimpse of sadness and confusion on his face, but then his expression quickly returned to one of anger.
“Manus, why havenae ye put this lass in the dungeon?”
“Uncle! Listen to me. Think on what I say!” She felt Manus grasp her arm and her heart sank.
“Nay! Ye will just lie. Like your mother! I told David nay to wed her but he wouldnae listen to me. Married the ruined wench and turned his back on me. Fool. Now he is dead, too. Get her out of here, Manus. Get her out.”
“Come along, lass.” Manus tugged her out of the hall, but she noticed the men in the hall would not look at her. She decided they were beginning to see the truth, see at least some of the game Robert was playing. There was also something about her mother and father’s past that was causing her further trouble, because it still gnawed at the sick laird.
A plump woman ran up to walk on her other side as Manus led Mora down to the dungeon. She wondered what Hilda, Manus’s wife, wanted, and then the woman said, “Manus, ye cannae do this.”
“I have to do it and I am going to. And ye are going to see that she has everything she needs.” Manus looked at Mora. “I am sorry, lass, but I am nay going to die for ye and that is just what I will do if I dinnae lock ye up.”
“’Tis all right, Manus. I would ne’er ask it of ye. He is mad, isnae he?”
“A wee bit, I am thinking. Gets lost in bad memories, too. He willnae face the truth about Robert. Ne’er has.”
“Ye think he already kens the truth?”
“Oh, aye,” said Hilda, “but what mon wishes to face the fact that his firstborn son is naught but a killer and a brute or is the verra one trying to kill him? I worry for the other lads now that their da is sunk in his own misery.”
“Do ye think Robert would kill them? What would it gain him?”
“Nary a thing, but I wouldnae be surprised if he plans to kill young Murdoch. Soon after his da goes, too, so he can toss them into the same hole. He was always jealous of the boy because his da kept him close. Mon still had all his wits about him and kenned Robert would harm the child.”
“Hilda!” snapped Manus. “Dinnae forget he will be your laird!”
“Nay mine,” Hilda muttered as she watched Manus put Mora in a cell and slowly lock the door.
“Are your new friends coming for ye, lass?” Manus asked.
“Nay, but I wouldnae tell ye if they were just so ye could prepare all the men to kill them.”
“Ye would let our men die?”
She looked around the cell she was in, then said, “Aye, but I will say this, my friends would try to talk to someone, try to sort it all out and keep blood from being spilt. From what I just saw of my uncle, he willnae care. And, if ye two are right, and he clings to all the lies his son has told just to save face and some long-held false hopes he wants fulfilled, he is near as mad as his foul son.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hilda nod.
Manus marched off shaking his head, but Hilda looked at her. “Who are your friends, lass?”
“The Murrays on either side of ye and the Camerons.”
“Oh, my. A handsome lot of friends ye have found. My spit boy is the nephew of the laird’s cook,” said Hilda.
“Oh, that’s nice.” Mora wondered what that had to do with anything.
“It could be, lass, it could be a verra nice thing indeed. I will be down in a few moments with a meal for ye.”
Mora sat on the narrow, hard bed and sighed. It had seemed like a good idea. Come and talk to her uncle, a man she could recall as being nice, funny at times, and welcoming. She suspected it was that memory that had pushed her to come as her uncle was no longer any of those things. She did not think it was all caused by the illness, either. Her uncle had had things go very wrong in his life and had been abed long enough to brood on them.
Why would he think her mother was a liar? Her mother never lied. And what did he mean by calling her mother a ruined woman? Mora clenched her fists and fought the urge to get up and stomp out her fury. He seemed to think matters had been ruined between him and his brother yet, if that was so, why did her mother take all of them to visit him?
