‘Surely you don’t mean….’ began Jasper Cullan.
‘Aye. I think someone cut off one of his hands and then took his tongue. After that, the poor wretch either choked on his own blood or someone helped him along.’
Bryce glanced at Maren. She put her hand to the back of her mouth and turned and fled into the woods. He leapt up and gave chase, catching her just as she reached a tall oak and leant on it and vomited. He put a hand on her back and held her hair from her face until she had finished. ‘Tis alright, Maren. Ease yourself. That was not for a woman’s eyes. You did well, not fainting away.’
‘I would never be that weak,’ she said, wiping her mouth. ‘What did Callum mean, the others?’
‘Tis nothing. I will explain later when we are alone. But I must own, I fear for the return of a foe we thought we had vanquished.’
‘Who?’
‘A foul villain called the Baron who was the scourge of these glens last year. I told you about him, remember.’
Maren swallowed hard. ‘The Baron?’ It was as well he had a hand on her arm, for Maren’s legs seemed to suddenly crumple under her, and Bryce had to hold her up.
‘Come, lass. This morning has turned foul, and we should return to Machrie with my uncle and father.’
‘What about that poor man?’ she asked, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
Bryce gave her a smile. ‘It seems that you are softer than you look, Maren McEwen. We will put the corpse on a horse and take it to Machrie. I am sure my uncle will give that poor man a good Christian burial.’
‘In a pauper’s grave,’ she said, glancing towards the throng of people leaning over the corpse. She pulled free of his arm and stalked off.
***
The mood at Machrie’s great hall was subdued. There should have been laughter, recounting of the chase, tales of a fox brought to ground. Folk should have indulged in lavish fare of mulled wine, hot bannocks and hearty broth.
Instead, there was muttering and the sharing of frightened, hushed confidences. The hideous discovery in the woods had tainted the morning, and only the hounds, panting and taking their rest in the yard, seemed to have had some enjoyment out of the day.
Bryce and Callum had their heads together, ensuring they were out of earshot of Maren, who was being fussed over by Jasper. She caught his eye, but he was loath to bring her into his conversation with Callum. Part of him wanted to, for he was proud of how she had held her composure all day and she had shown courage when confronted with great horror. Bryce wondered if it was the first time she was forced to be strong, and his heart bled for her. But Maren’s ordeal was not over, for he spotted his cousin Hew’s wife, Fenella, approach and start talking to her.
‘This is a monstrous discovery, Bryce,’ said Callum, his jaw set in anger.
‘I fear for what his day’s discovery might mean, friend,’ he said distractedly, trying to look out for Maren.
‘You know full well what it means.’
‘Aye,’ said Bryce turning his back on the throng. Maren could hold her own, even with the odious Fenella. ‘Cutting out the tongues of those who betray his secrets is the hallmark of the Baron,’ he hissed.
‘As is cruelty.’ Callum stared down at the dram in his hand as if he could find answers at the bottom of it. ‘Hacking off a man’s hand and letting him bleed out is barbarous. I’ll not tell my wife of this.’
‘Callum, you know that Tara is bound to find out eventually. This foul discovery will be the talk of Inverness by day’s end.’
‘She is with child, Bryce. I cannot have her frightened at such a time. So I will delay Tara’s agony as long as I can.’
Bryce felt a hand on his arm. ‘Whose agony?’ Maren had come to stand beside them. Callum gave her a nod and a pained smile and moved off.
‘Tis nothing for you to concern yourself with, lass.’
‘A corpse without a tongue, and there is nothing for me to worry about?’ she said. ‘Have you brought me into danger, Bryce Cullan? Was I better off in Balloch?’
Before he could answer, Hew Munro’s voice boomed over the assembled guests. ‘Good people. Please eat, drink and be merry. Do not fear the abomination that was discovered in the woods this day. ‘Twas nought but some villain or other who was done in by his wicked fellows. People of low birth will oft get themselves into such scrapes.’
Bryce felt Maren bristle at his side, and Hew always got his blood up.
‘Are we to just pretend all is well while a monster prowls the Highlands?’ shouted Bryce. ‘For God’s sake, are we such timorous fools here that we cannot even say his name aloud? ‘Tis plain as day - the Baron has returned to plague us once more.’
‘It could be someone else, some other murderer, or an argument between thieves gone bad,’ shouted Fergal McMullan, wiping a sweaty brow with a kerchief. ‘You mean to spread panic for your own ends,’ he finished bitterly.
