Emer moved closer to Gawain’s bedside. She could hardly hear him. He was speaking in such a lowered voice.
“Can I fetch ye some more of the syrup I made ye for the pain, sir?” she asked him as she plumped up the pillows behind his head and smoothed the covers.
“Nay, ‘tis nae for that I asked ye come here, dearest Emer,” Gawain croaked hoarsely, “it’s just that ye’re the only one I can trust-everyone else here relies on Caillen for their pay or have been working at the keep for I dinnae ken how long, their loyalties are to me brither an’ nae to me.”
Emer felt she had to tell Gawain the truth. His injury seemed to be confusing him, “Ummm, sir, I’m paid by the Laird, yer brither, too.”
Gawain waved a hand, “Aye, aye, but ye have nae had the time to be corrupted by all this yet,” and he used the same hand to gesture at the walls.
Emer was intrigued, despite her initial misgivings, “Go on,” she said.
“Ye have to promise me ye will nae say anything to anybody about what I’m about to tell ye,” he gripped Emer’s hand firmly and held it hard, “Promiseme!”
“I swear, I will nae say a word,” Emer said gently.
“I trust yer word and will forgo ye swearing an oath, Emer, please remember me great confidence in yer discretion.”
She nodded.
“I have discovered, through me own investigations around the castle, a few things that have brought the greatest fears into me heart. ‘Tis a note written in the most inelegant script, saying they are in receipt of the order, and will most faithfully carry out the deed this very day!”
Emer looked confused, “What are ye saying?”
“If I am nae makin’ meself clear, I have the note here, hidden inside me pillow,” the injured man sat up and gingerly withdrew a crumpled piece of parchment from beneath his head and handed it to Emer.
She unfolded the parchment and read:
Laird Caillen-
I got yer letter and have everything prepared for the day of the fox hunt. At yer command, I will loose the arrow at yer rival. He will be dead afore he hits the ground; of that ye can be sure.
Dinnae fash about them catching me. I have a perch in the forest from where I can make me departure clean away after taking my shot.
I will give the Sutherland clan yer warmest regards and expect a wee bit more gold coming yer way soon.
D-
Emer read the letter through twice. She could hardly believe what it said the first time.
“When and where did ye find this, sir?” she asked, her eyes wide with horror at what the letter implied.
Gawain groaned and hid his eyes with his elbow, as though trying to block out the awful truth, “When the stronghold room within the library was being built, there was a heap of rubble outside in the passage. I saw this parchment screwed up into a bundle amidst the rubble and thought it might be something important the builders had mistaken for trash. Alas, I didnae act on the contents of the letter, for then it was too vague in me estimation.”
“Vague!” Emer spluttered in outrage, “this letter implies it’s yerbritherwho’s trying to undo the clan. And the ‘rival’ of whom they speak is undoubtedly yerself!”
Gawain made as though to swipe the letter away with his hand as though he could not bear to hear what Emer was saying.
“I ken, Emer, I ken! It’s too much for me to stand! And yet I have been asking questions about where the gold comes from, the gold being used to make the castle keep so grandiose and fine. And all he ever does is smile and swat me away as though I’m a May Day gadfly.”
Emer was trying to look at Gawain’s suspicions from all angles. She was reluctant to take the letter as all the proof she needed before forming an opinion.
“It may be this person is calling their castle counterpart ‘Laird Caillen’ to divert attention away from the real culprit. In fact, nae one calls yer brither that-everyone calls him Laird Maclachlan, now that I come to think of it. The only people who call him Caillen are yerself, the auld Laird, and the chieftains. Could this be a clue?”
Gawain seemed to grasp hold of Emer’s idea as his last hope and then collapsed back down, “But where is he getting the gold from? It was only after I started asking questions about it that this-” and here he pointed at his leg under the covers, “-happened!”
Emer looked solemn. The evidence did seem damning, and why would Caillen be reluctant to divulge where he was obtaining all the money to pay for the castle renovations. The building works and extensions were more than practical maintenance. They were imparting a real air of luxury and opulence to the keep.
“If the Sutherlands are so rich, they can pay Laird Maclachlan for all the building bein’ done, why are they so keen to steal the Maclachlan clan’s land and tariffs? It does nae make sense,” but Emer said this half-heartedly, as though clutching at straws.
