She suspected he did, but was just being contrary. “Oh? Would you have him tuck us up in a tree or the like whilst he had this battle?"
"Ye are just as impertinent as this lass,” he said, jabbing a finger toward Fiona before turning back to Sigimor. “So, ye cannae just cut this bastard's throat and be done with it, then. But, did ye have to marry her to keep her safe?"
"It will certainly help,” Sigimor replied. “E'en the Sassenachs would frown on a mon stealing another mon's wife. And, if he does get his hands on her again, he willnae be able to go through with all his plans, nay for a while, leastwise."
"But, to wed a Sassenach.” Fingal shook his head. “Twill weaken our good Scot's blood, lad."
"I beg your pardon!” Jolene was getting very tired of the implication that Sigimor had committed some grave crime against his country and clan by marrying her. “I am the daughter and the sister of an earl. I hardly think Sigimor has lowered himself in the wedding of me."
"AnEnglishearl."
"Enough,” Ewan said quietly, but there was an impressive note of command in that one word. “She is Sigimor's wife, thus one of our family now, and I will hear no more insults given her."
"I wasnae insulting her,” protested Fingal.
"Ye were treading o'er some verra thin ice. I would prefer it if Sigimor didnae start feeling honor bound to kill ye, thus forcing me to fight him o'er it. If ye feel the need to rant against the English, go find the bastard who seeks to kill a wee lass and a bairn just so that he might claim what doesnae belong to him.” Ewan turned back to Sigimor. “Ye havenae asked us to join ye in this fight."
"Nay,” replied Sigimor, “and I willnae. Aye, twould be verra fine indeed if we could all ride out to meet him, sword to sword, then kill him so that my wife can spit upon his grave."
"Sigimor!” Jolene hissed in protest, embarrassed by the revelation of her unladylike sentiment.
Sigimor ignored her. “Howbeit, I decided twould be best to keep this fight between me and Harold. I have just cause for killing him, e'en more so now since he hunts my wife."
"If ye have just cause, then, as your blood kin, so do we."
"We cannae be sure the English would see it so. I had no time to study my enemy. I dinnae ken who his allies might be, if he truly has any, or how powerful they are. There could be an outcry when he dies here. If so, I must be the only one caught up in that tangle for I can claim several verra good reasons for killing the mon, ones e'en his allies will have difficulty arguing, e'en if they do have the king's ear."
"Ye fled England with an English lady and the heir to an earl's seat, Sigimor. Then ye kill the mon who came after ye to retrieve them, a mon who claims a kinship with them. Are ye sure yourjust causesare weighty enough to ease the anger that might arise?"
Sigimor nodded. “I hold the missive Peter sent asking for my help, one that makes clear Peter's fear of betrayal and his fear for his son. Harold threw me and my men into the dungeon, chained us, and was about to hang us despite the fact that we entered Drumwich with our swords sheathed and at the invitation of its laird. Jolene wasnae promised to anyone and is now my wife so I can certainly use Harold's attempts to take her as justification for anything I do to the mon. If he follows us to Dubheidland and continues his threats, that, too, is cause enough to kill him."
Ewan nodded. “Yehavethought this out weel."
"There is one other thing to consider. Jolene's kinsmen could always be called upon to speak out against Harold."
"Aye,” agreed Jolene. “I have been hoping that, with Harold away from Drumwich, someone may have been able to go to them to tell them what has happened. None of them trust or like the man, but they all respected and liked my brother."
"So, ye willnae be allowing us to kill any Sassenachs, aye?” asked Fingal.
"Not unless they try to kill a MacFingal,” replied Sigimor.
"Weel, I think we could come up with a way to make that happen yet nay put any of my lads in danger. Then, once swords are drawn, we can kill them."
Sigimor stared at his uncle for a moment, then looked at Jolene. “Mayhap ye best go and sit by the fire or the like. My uncle wants to argue about killing Harold and there could be a few things said that ye willnae like."
Having finished her meal, Jolene readily agreed. “You wish me downwind from the insults that will soon be heaped upon the English, I suppose."
"Aye, wife. They could get fierce."
She just rolled her eyes and made her way to the high-backed benches arranged before a massive fireplace at the far end of the great hall. To her relief Fiona quickly joined her there. If nothing else, it eased the appearance of her being sent to a corner like a naughty child.
"Fingal just loves a good, rousing argument,” Fiona said as she sat facing Jolene, “and Sigimor likes to oblige him."
"He would. I have noticed that the Camerons do seem to enjoy arguing. Sigimor can be particularly contrary at times. I have not known him long, but I have felt the urge to beat him o'er the head at least a dozen times already."
"Only a dozen times? He must be on his best behavior.” Fiona shared a brief laugh with Jolene, but then grew very serious. “His sister is married to my brother Diarmot. I have kenned Sigimor and his family for a few years now. He is a verra good mon."
"Oh, aye, he is."
