As Aimil finally sank into blackness, she heard Rory softly reply, “I will let her die and with her will go the truth about Kirstie Mengue’s death.”
Chapter Fifteen
Aimil woke to more pain than she thought any body should have to bear. If this was to be her treatment at Rory’s hands, she knew she would not last long. That he had not yet raped her seemed small consolation. One more hurt would hardly have mattered.
Through her swollen eyes, she saw the door open. If Rory tried to beat her anymore, she knew he would kill her. Panic seized her, but she was unable to move her battered body. In stead of Rory, it was a buxom, young maid and Aimil’s terror receded. For now, at least, she would have a respite from that madman’s attentions.
“Who are ye?” she rasped as the young woman set a bowl of water down on the table near the bed.
“Maggie. He did ye weel, didnae he? I am here to try and mend ye.”
“So that he may have at me again?” She grit her teeth against a scream when the girl began to wash her back.
“Aye. He wants ye to last awhile yet.”
Noticing the faintly discolored skin around Maggie’s eyes, Aimil said, “He has had at ye as weel.”
“There isnae a wench here that hasnae been done. He is a madman, a bastard.”
Hearing the hate in Maggie’s voice, Aimil sensed a possible ally and asked, “Help me?”
“I can give ye a potion that will take ye out of his hands.”
“Nay, I dinnae mean that.” Aimil was shocked that the girl would offer something so cowardly and sinful. “Help me escape.”
“I will be slain the instant ’tis found that ye are gone.”
“Then come with me. Black Parlan or my family will take ye in gladly if ye aid me.” She saw that the young woman was pondering the move, knew that such an offer would be a sore temptation for the girl. “He will kill me if I stay here. ’Tis my life I am asking of ye, my life ye will save.”
“Nay doubt he will kill me soon as weel. His sort of loving does that. I could be saving me own life, too.”
“Will ye help me then?”
“Aye, I be willing since ye offer what I have always lacked, a place to go, but I dinnae ken how.”
“If I can get into the bailey, can ye get us out without us being spotted?”
“That isnae any trouble. ’Tis the getting out of this room that will be difficult.”
“Nay, it willnae. Just get me a sturdy rope to reach the court below this window.”
“Ye mean to go out the windy? Ye are daft,” Maggie gasped, her hazel eyes wide.
Although she was unable to change Maggie’s attitude concerning the sanity of such a venture, Aimil was finally able to get the girl to fetch what was needed. Aimil tried not to think of how weak she was now. Knowing what faced her if she stayed had to be enough to give her the strength to escape. If she was to die, she would much rather do it in an attempt to save herself than in cowering beneath the blows of a madman.
As she rested, trying to recoup the strength the beating had stolen from her, she thought on Maggie. The girl was young and very attractive with her chestnut curls and large hazel eyes. It was no surprise that Rory had taken notice of her. All Aimil could hope was that the girl was as sincere as she was pretty, that her hatred of Rory was real. A betrayal now would cost Aimil dearly.
When Maggie crept back into the room with a set of clothes and a rope concealed under her voluminous skirts, Aimil felt almost guilty about her lack of trust. The girl watched in amazed admiration as Aimil dressed in lad’s clothing without a blink and then secured the rope. It was quite possible, Aimil mused, that the girl was thinking that all the gentry were at least slightly mad.
“Where is Rory?” Aimil asked as she tested the knot she had made.
“Drinking in the hall. He willnae be moving this night.”
“That is one thing in our favor then. T’will be a long while before he knows that we are gone.” She straddled the window ledge. “Weel, off ye go. I will meet ye below in but a moment.” When Maggie frowned, she smiled reassuringly. “I have done this often. Dinnae fash yourself. If I do fall, better to die quickly this way than slowly by Rory’s hand and giving him pleasure by doing so.”
That made great sense to Maggie despite her continued opinion that to lower oneself out of a window so high from the ground was madness. “Shall I steal us a horse? I cannae ride but ye can, cannae ye?”
“Aye. If ye can, that would do us weel indeed but dinnae risk much for it, dinnae chance discovery.”
