“Ye dinnae think they will be just up the road or coming back?”
“We willnae be traveling right on the road. I mean to keep us within the trees for as long as I can,” he said as he put out the fire and made sure it was out. “It means we will travel a wee bit slower than I like, but we willnae be in sight all the way.” He glanced at the cat, which was carefully cleaning its face and paws. “And we have a nice alarm to let us ken if someone is coming.”
“Oh, aye. I am nay sure how she learned to do that.”
“Could be as simple as her noticing a rider approaching and how ye reacted to it. At least she is quieter than a dog when it is trying to warn ye of something. Some are clever enough to warn with a soft growl, but others start barking and let everyone ken where ye are.” He cleaned off the plates they had used and packed them away. “We will head out soon.”
Mora nodded and stood up. She carefully brushed off her skirts and took a few moments to tidy up her bag. Taking out the top cloth, she gave it a good shake and then spread it over the top of everything in her bag. The moment she was done, her cat leapt inside and settled down. She was surprised the man did not see this as odd as so many others did.
Gybbon went to his horse, saddled Jester, and put the blankets on the back. Mora walked up and held out her bag. He took a few moments deciding where best to put it, then looked at her. He was not sure where she should ride.
“Have ye done much riding?”
“Some,” Mora replied, not really wanting to admit how little that was. “We had a few horses but I ne’er went far, just to Aunt Maggie or the village now and then.”
“Then ye will sit in front of me.”
“Why?”
“Easier to grab ye if ye start to slide off,” he said, and ignored her outraged gasp as he swung her up into the saddle. “Also, ye are less visible to other riders this way.”
The moment he mounted behind her, Mora decided it was not the best way to share a horse with him. His arms came around her to grasp the reins and she felt as if she was being embraced.
As they started out she tried to remain stiff and straight so that she did not end up leaning against him. She reached down to open her bag a little so that Freya could look around and would be better able to hear anything coming their way. Riding through the trees was a slow way to travel, but Mora had to admit it was much prettier and cooler. When her remark about that brought only a grunt from Sir Gybbon she fought the urge to sigh loudly. He might be one of the handsomest men she had ever seen, but he was obviously just a man. There would be no idle but pleasant conversation to fill the silence and make the time pass by faster.
Gybbon stared at her straight, slim back and almost grinned. She was trying so hard not to lean against him. That would not be a position she would be able to keep up for long. Soon her muscles would protest holding her so tensely upright.
He glanced down at her bag and saw the strange little cat resting her head on the edge as she stared around. It was the oddest little creature, he decided. Gybbon had never disliked cats, just never had much interest in them, although several of his female relations were quite fond of them. Jester was not bothered by the animal, so there was no need to worry about it.
Although he was more than willing to take her to Dubheidland, he was not all that certain Sigimor would or could help her. He knew his family would though, and that eased his mind save for one thing. He realized he was concerned that she might be hurt if Sigimor did not do as her mother felt sure he would. Shaking his head, he had to wonder if he was getting soft as he rapidly approached thirty years of age.
“My mother had heard that Sigimor had married,” Mora said.
“Aye, he has,” Gybbon replied, pleased to be pulled from his thoughts. “To an Englishwoman, a lady born and bred.”
“He married anEnglishwoman?!”
“Aye. She was running from a mon who wished to take hold of her nephew and all the boy had inherited. He killed her brother. He had even locked up Sigimor and his men, mostly his brothers, and she set them free. She surprised him when they wed with a nice dowry and some land in Scotland, which his twin now cares for.”
“Are they weel suited?”
“I would ne’er have guessed that they were, but I have to say aye. She has nay problem getting openly angry with him and he actually seems to like that. He certainly tempts that anger with the things he says.”
“My brother Niall was like that to my mother and me. Stirring the pot, my da used to say.”
“Why didnae he come to help ye?”
“He and my other brother, David, went off to France about three years ago. They hoped to gain some coin by joining with one of the mercenary groups there and fighting some battles for France. We havenae heard from them and all attempts to reach them have failed for almost two years now.”
“Ah, I see. I have kenned some men who have done the same as it appears there is always someone o’er there looking for some men to fight their battles for them. I dinnae ken how ye can find out anything for certain though.”
“Weel, my thought was that Robert discovered where they were going and then paid some of those men to deal with it. I suspect it wouldnae have been difficult to do. Nay sure my brothers would have been able to sense the treachery. I doubt they would even have been expecting any.”
“That too can be looked into. There are enough of our kin, mine and Sigimor’s, who have been o’er there and ken people o’er there to hunt for some sign of them.”
“I both dread the news and desperately want to ken the truth.”
“That is how it is all too often, lass.”
