“I am sorry.” The words felt bitter on her tongue. Insignificant in the heavy moment where Errol was lost in memories from that time.
Walking away, Moira allowed Errol time to spend with the memory of his brother. She sat down under a large tree and watched his throat bob as he swallowed down his emotions. Minutes passed but she would not complain or tell him to hurry along and stop whatever he was doing.
Because he was grieving.
And she wouldn’t interrupt that.
As he worked through what he needed to, Moira pushed off the ground. The spring sun was warm as she tipped her face upward, letting the rays warm her cheeks. The rain that had threatened earlier had dissipated leaving beautiful weather in its wake. Nearby colorful flowers littered the ground. Picking a handful, she gathered them and wove discarded stems together, then wound the braid around the stems of the flowers she’d picked, creating a colorful, fragrant bouquet.
Carefully, she approached Errol. His face had softened a bit from earlier and when she approached he didn’t scowl at her.
Kneeling at his feet, she placed the bouquet on the ground near his boots and said a quick prayer before moving to stand beside Errol.
“I ken ye doonae believe me,” she said softly. “But I really am sorry. No one should have to suffer the loss of a sibling. Gavin seems that he was loved verra much.”
Moira could see the flexing of Errol’s jaw as he clenched his teeth.
“I’ve said my peace,” he said and spun on his heel to walk toward his horse who was grazing on the dewy grass. From his travel bag, he pulled the skin with ale and took a long swig. “Does yer map say whatwe are looking for here?”
The sudden change of conversation showed that Errol didn’t want to speak of his brother any longer.
With a sigh, she pulled out the map and unfurled it, studying the pictures that she could retain from memory at this point. Like the other stop at the chapel, the map said naught about what they were looking for. She shook her head.
Nodding in annoyance, he rolled his lips inward. “Great,” he mumbled. “I suppose we are to hope that luck is on our side and whate’er is here just presents itself.”
Moira chewed at her fingernail, considering his words. He wasn’t wrong. While the map gave a minimal visual of the areas they needed to go to, hints to what they needed to find were nonexistent.
Walking along the headstones, she tried to read some of the names. Some she couldn’t but others she could. Moss, algae, and stone worn smooth from the weather made reading some of the names, dates and remarks difficult. Not surprising the MacLeod name was prominent. “How old is this kirkyard? Do ye ken?”
“I dinnae. ’Tis been here for as long as I can remember and long afore then.”
One of the headstones caught her attention. There was what looked to be a symbol carved into the stone. “Errol, look. Do ye ken what this is?” She brushed her fingers over the symbol, sweeping away dirt so they could see it more clearly.
The symbol wasn’t very big, and it looked like it was carved in long after the original stone carvings were done.
Errol bent to get a better view of the symbol. “It looks like water. A wave, mayhap.”
She studied it, tilting her head to the side. It did kind of look like a wave almost, which would mean water. “I believe ye are correct. Do ye ken what it could mean?”
He shook his head. “We arenae that far from the water. Could bealluding to the sea.”
“The wave,” she said quietly. “There has to be other symbols on the stones. Just one doesnae make sense.”
Quickly, she moved to other stones, checking the back of them for any symbols that may have been carved into them. Her breath caught as she found another symbol, this time depicting a mountain peak.
Errol joined her and studied the carving, his mouth turned down in a frown. “A wave, and a mountain.” He shook his head as he straightened. “It doesnae give us aught. Both are prevalent in these parts.”
“There must be more.”
They both began searching, looking for something else that would help them solve the puzzle.
Moira kept walking. Studying the stones. Ignoring what was written on the front since that didn’t seem to matter. The symbols they’d found so far had been carved on the back of the headstones. It only made sense that if there were any additional symbols, they too, would be carved on the back.
“Moira.”
She straightened at Errol’s call. He had knelt behind a grave on the other side of the kirkyard.
“Did ye find something?” She asked, her feet already moving toward him.
