“It wasna sickness, man!” Roger countered, amazed in spite of himself at Horas’s strength for an elderly man. “My son was starving tae death—and it’s only your long years of service that prevented me from throwing you out on your ear for not recognizing it. Get him out of here.”
As the guards hustled Horas away, still spewing his crazed rants, Roger turned back to the head table to see servants hurling buckets of water on the floor around the abandoned pitcher. Evander stood as pale as death, his hands upraised as he beseeched the heavens to protect them from the devil’s power.
Yet where was Julianna? By God, where was William? In three strides he was back at the head table where he reached out to grab Evander, who gasped and made the sign of the Cross at him.
“What are you doing?” Roger demanded, though his heart sank that his priestly brother could be so easily influenced by any talk at all of witches and spells and Satan. “There’s no devil here, only an old man so sickened by jealousy he sought tae poison my wife. Save your prayers forhissoul and leave Julianna out of this madness.”
“No madness, brother, but a claim made by one of our own that must be examined at once, aye, this very night! As soon as she’s found, she must be brought tae the chapel—”
“I’ll do no such thing,” Roger cut him off vehemently, scanning the great hall for any sign of Julianna or William. The entire place was a mess of spilled food, rattled servants, and people still rushing toward the entranceway while more water was splashed upon the floor where he and Julianna had been sitting.
His little daughters, too—damn Horas, but there was no time for him to think of the healer now. If Julianna hadn’t fled toward where everyone else was running, mayhap she had gone to the kitchen to seek another way out. Had William followed her?
That thought spurred him toward the door flying open and closed as servants rushed in and out of the great hall, Roger near slipping upon mashed turnips and other foodstuffs on the floor that had once been his and Julianna’s wedding feast.
He was almost across the room when the door burst open again, William hauling Julianna back into the great hall, her face as stricken as he had ever seen it.
Her violet eyes wide with fear and her gown smeared with food that showed she had slipped in the mess and fallen in her desperation to escape what must have frightened her to death.
Horas’s absurd accusations and Evander’s wild appeals to God to save them from the devil.
The servants no doubt staring in terror at Julianna, too, as if she were intent upon laying a hex upon them all.
“I’ve got her!” cried William, though he released Julianna when he saw Roger lunging toward him, his hands clenched into fists at his brother’s rough treatment of her.
“Get away from my wife.”
“I was only doing what Father Petros bade me,” William insisted as he kept a wary distance between himself and Roger. “He wants her taken tae the chapel—”
“Go tae hell, both of you!” Incensed, Roger reached Julianna just as her knees seemed to buckle and he swept her into his arms, his heart sinking that she looked so pale when only a short while ago, she had been smiling, laughing…
“Roger, take me back to Dumbarton Castle, please,” she murmured in a voice so lacking in emotion that he felt a streak of fear. “I can’t stay here with you…I’m sorry…so sorry. Your king must know where else I can go—”
“No, Juli, you’re staying here with me,” Roger said firmly, Julianna trembling against him as he wound his way through upended benches and chairs and skirted past overturned platters of food. “There’s no truth in anything Horas spewed—”
“But Evander believes it! When he turned to look at me, I saw the horror in his eyes and all I could think of was to run—”
“Shh, lass, I told you we would face together whatever comes, aye?”
Julianna didn’t nod…didn’t say anything more as Roger strode with her from the great hall, Evander crying out behind them.
“If you dinna take her tae the chapel, brother, I will summon the bishop himself—I’m duty bound tae do so! If she’s innocent of these claims, you’ve nothing tae fear, do you hear me?”
Roger growled a curse in answer while Julianna’s head lolled against his chest, the fight seeping out of her, he could feel it. She had been so courageous through these past two weeks of such vast changes to her life—and now this!
He began to pray himself, fiercely, desperately, carrying her past onlookers who held a glimmer of alarm in their eyes that told him to his mounting dismay they believed some—if not all—of what Horas had claimed.
The angel who had saved his life so selflessly now looked upon as a devilish witch—dear God, was this madness truly happening?
“Roger…”
He looked down at Julianna’s upturned face, her tear-filled gaze cutting him to the quick.
“Take me to the chapel…please. Your brother is right. I’m innocent so we have nothing to fear—”
“Not tonight, lass,” he cut in gently, nearing the steps to the tower. “So much has happened. Everyone will be thinking more clearly in the morning—”
“No, we must have this thing done. I beg you, husband. I must proclaim my innocence!”
