Page 11 of Highlander’s False Identity

The lady stepped forward, in her flowing white plaid. She gave Beathan a searching look, before standing in front of Edme and giving her the same appraising eye.

Already chastened, he cast about, looking for his knife to loosen the girl’s bonds. Watching him search for the jeweled dagger was uncomfortable for Edme. She looked closely as his hands went to his dagger pouch, and then, suddenly, his face changed. Would he realize it was missing? Did he know that she had it? And what would his parents say?

If Beathan knew that she had the black sgian dubh, then he said nothing and simply used his thick fingers to unpick the knot that bound her to the horse.

As she was released, a hearty cheer went up, making it impossible to forget that the small crowd had been watching the whole time.

By the look on Freya’s face, she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she had the whole story from both parties.

Edme watched as the lady’s face fell by a country mile. “Ye haven’t lost them, have ye?” she asked him, almost accosting the lad by his shirttails.

Beathan looked momentarily puzzled.

“The Cairngorm stone. There are robbers aplenty out there – please tell me ye were careful, Beathan!”

At this, Edme and Beathan shared a furtive glance. Mindful of the watchful eyes, Edme was greatly relieved when Beathan looked about and said in a whisper.

“Let’s go inside to talk.”

The small entourage passed through the heavy doorway and along the narrow stone passageway, which led into a large hall.

Edme blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light in the room. In the center burned a large fire, instantly warming the chill in her stiff fingers.

Freya assumed her position in an ornately carved chair in the middle of the room as Wallace sat beside her. The sight of both of them sat like judges made even Edme’s stout heart beat a little quicker.

“Well,” said Freya, as they assembled in front of her. Beathan looked around as if to make sure he wasn’t overheard before continuing.

“Dinnae fash, I’ve still got the jewels,” he said, immediately unpinning his knapsack.

Edme almost gasped. This was the first time she had seen the Cairngorm stone. She could not resist taking a peek at the brooch, a smoky brown-yellow quartz set in fine gold, nestled in Beathan’s hands.

The lad handed it to his mother, who fastened it to her arisaid, its amber sheen glinting in the firelight. Edme could not stop the envy from creeping into her heart at the sight of the beautiful brooch. Immediately, she felt sad for all the jewelry she had had to leave behind in the McKinley keep.

Beathan handed the remainder of the hoard over to his father, who wrapped it up, before handing it to a silent servant standing by the doorway.

Edme’s sharp eyes picked out something else in the darkened room, instead of leaving the room as beckoned by the laird, the servant turned around, as if remembering something.

He dug around inside his sporran for something, while watched by every pair of eyes in the room. Eventually, he produced a rolled scroll of paper, sealed with a tartan ribbon, and handed it solemnly to the laird.

The laird scanned it and immediately shot her a wary glance.

Edme watched nervously. She hadn’t a clue what this was about, but somehow the laird’s eyes made it clear it was about her.

Unaffected, the lady continued questioning her son.

“So then, if ye didnae get robbed, then why did ye nae get to the Duncan tower?” Freya asked. Beathan paused, glancing at Edme.

Edme held her nerve. She prepared for him to call her out at this point and waited tentatively for Beathan to speak. He didn’t.

Thinking that maybe she should get her explanation in first, Edme opened her mouth to speak.

“My lady, the thing is, it isnae quite as it seems,” she ventured. She had no idea exactly how she was going to end this speech, but she had to think of something. Just as her mind was going into overdrive to concoct something, the laird spoke.

“So then, young lassie. What do ye have to say for yerself, accused of such a heinous crime?” he asked, as any last vestiges of friendliness washed from his face.

Edme gulped as Wallace stood and strode across the room to her. In total silence, the laird brought his face in front of her, his brown eyes glinting menacingly in the orange light.

“Go on then?” he softly added as everyone stared at her.