"Aye, m'laird,” she replied. “Both her and the boy. Aye, as weel as Lady Barbara and one of her pretty pets, that mon Clyde. Her cousin is still here, but he willnae answer our questions."
Sigimor raced up the stairs and headed straight for Barbara's chambers. He could hear the others following him, but he did not wait for them to catch up. When he burst into Barbara's room, he looked around and felt that chill of fear grow even worse. The only one in the room was Donald. He sat at a table near the fire working on a small carving. Then, to Sigimor's confused astonishment, the young man smiled at him
"Tis about time ye got here,” Donald said. “Ye are a wee bit late in returning."
"Where is my wife?” he demanded as Donald carefully set the piece he had been carving in the center of the table.
"Ah, now, I cannae answerthatquestion."
"Ye will if ye wish to leave here in one piece."
"Oh, aye, I want that verra much. Verra much. Tis why I sit here. I but await ye to ask the right question."
Sigimor forced his anger down, as well as the sense of desperation he felt. Donald was not really defying him, he realized. In fact, he had the distinct feeling the young man was hoping he could help. There was a key to unlock the truth, but Sigimor was not in the mood for puzzles or in a state of mind to work one out. As Fergus, Old Nancy, and Somerled gathered around him, Sigimor took several slow, deep breaths to grasp at a thin thread of calm.
"Where has Lady Barbara gone?” he asked, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword, but, to his surprise, the younger man smiled again.
"Now that is a question Icananswer. I fear she has taken the Lady Jolene and the boy to this mon Harold.” Donald pressed himself back in his seat as Sigimor took several steps toward him. “I told her it was wrong, e'en warned her against the mon."
"But ye did naught to stop her, did ye?"
"Nay. I thought I could change her mind right up until your wife and the boy entered the room. Once it all began, I suddenly realized that I couldnae trust in Barbara to e'en let me live, that there was a strong chance she would have Clyde cut my throat if I tried to stop her or betray her to you. Harold has promised her a veritable fortune. She truly believes he will honor his word and that she can then just slip back here to woo ye. They have gone to the catacombs."
Sigimor looked at Somerled when his brother cursed. “I thought they were sealed up."
"Liam and I recently opened them.” Somerled shrugged. “Curiosity. They have been sealed since our father was a lad."
"But, how did Lady Barbara and Clyde leave without being seen? The church where those catacombs are is three miles away, at least."
Sigimor suddenly noticed how Donald kept playing with the little figure he had carved and cursed as he turned his gaze toward the matching figure on the corner of the fireplace. “I had forgotten about the bolthole.” He looked back at Donald. “How long ago did Lady Barbara leave?"
"About two hours ago and on foot. M'laird!” Donald cried out when Sigimor started to leave.
Slowly, Sigimor turned to face the man again. “Do ye ken how badly I want to kill ye?"
"Aye, I think I do."
"Then why are ye still here?"
"I wait to take Barbara's body home,” he replied softly.
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Chapter Seventeen
Bile stung the back of Jolene's throat as she stared down at the bodies of Clyde and Lady Barbara, unable to look away. She had never seen anyone killed so quickly and coldly. Barbara had been blissfully unaware of her danger right up to the end. There had been an odd look upon Clyde's face in the heartbeat of time between his realizing that someone had stepped up behind him and having his throat cut. He had given Harold a look that could only be called admiring. In that last instant of life the man had done one good thing, however. He had shoved Reynard toward Jolene. She had caught her nephew and quickly cocooned him within her skirts to shield him from the sight of the abrupt execution.
When the two men who had done the killing started to drag the bodies away, she finally looked at Harold. “You will soon run out of allies if that is how you treat them."
"They sold you and the boy to me. Next they would have sold me to the Camerons,” Harold said and shrugged.
"So you judged them guilty of a crime before they had e'en committed it?"
"The woman was determined to become the lady of that accursed keep no civilized tongue can pronounce the name of. She would have done anything to get Sir Sigimor to marry her. She betrayed him to me to be rid of you. To win his favor, she would have betrayed me.” He scowled at the two bodies now thrown atop each other in the far corner of the large chamber. “It troubles me that that young cousin of hers did not come, too."
Jolene slowly rubbed the back of a faintly trembling Reynard and wondered if Donald had guessed what would happen, had somehow sensed the danger of dealing with Harold. “How disappointing for you."
"We will leave here as soon as it gets dark,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm. “I have not yet decided what to do with you, but I think I can use the boy to buy me something. My life for his. Our kinsmen will be eager to get him back safe and alive. I fear you will not be so blessed.” He looked around. “An excellent hiding place, is it not? That fellow Clyde found it. We have sat here snug, dry, and safe whilst the Camerons have exhausted themselves and their horses hunting for us."
