Highland Angel (17 page)

“Or give them a fine chance to cut me into wee, bloody pieces.”

“Gilly makes a fine little potion,” Connor said, and exchanged a brief grin with his wife. “From what ye have told us, the MacIyes sound a fair-minded lot, but they think the honor of their name has been stained. Feelings could run high and that makes for a dangerous situation. And, once ye start telling them what a foul beast Sir Roderick is, there is nay judging how they will react to that. If ye tried to tell me the like about one of my close kin, my first thought would be to cut your lying tongue out. They might feel the same.”

“Exactly,” agreed Gillyanne, “so we get the men here and serve them some mildly dosed wine. When they fall asleep, we tie them to their seats. They will listen to ye then and with no cutting out of tongues.” She sighed. “I wish I had a potion that would make them believe ye. That will be the most difficult thing to accomplish.”

“Then I will help make them believe it,” said Callum.

“Oh, nay, Callum,” Kirstie protested. “We couldnae ask that of ye.”

“Ye didnae. I offered.”

“As will I.”

Kirstie stared at the two people standing in the doorway, as did everyone else. “Michael? Eudard? What are the two of ye doing here?” She saw how her brother limped as he walked toward her, Michael close behind him. “Your leg—”

“Is mostly healed, although a stiffness might linger,” Eudard replied. “I would have come sooner except that Aunt Grizel threatened to tie me to the bed.”

“But I sent Michael to tell ye what was happening and I wrote to ye—”

“Aye. Dear Eudard, dinnae worry, I didnae drown. Kirstie. Verra soothing, that.”

“I was writing a better one. Started it yesterday, but something interfered.”

“Of course it did. Why dinnae ye introduce me and Michael to your friends, and then we can discuss that, er, interference.”

As Kirstie quickly did so, Payton studied her twin brother. They were certainly much alike in looks, making Eudard a very handsome young man, but he was a great deal larger than Kirstie, being at least six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular. Michael Campbell looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, and lanky, as most youths were. With his black hair, deep blue eyes, excellent skin, and elegant features, it was easy to see why Roderick had fixed his perverse attentions on the youth. Although he was now too old for
Roderick, the man had obviously felt it was too dangerous to kill the boy—or Michael, unlike Callum, had been adequately cowed.

“I heard what ye have planned,” said Eudard as he sat down in the chair Ian had fetched for him, “and Michael has told me a great deal ye neglected to, Kirstie. Howbeit, if ye would be so kind, I would like to ken just how much trouble ye have gotten yourself into since that day ye didnae drown.”

Kirstie briefly told him of each incident, fighting to ignore the way he kept looking from Payton to her and back again. “So, ye see, it has been somewhat difficult, but everything is fine now.”

“Oh, aye, I can see that,” he drawled and rolled his eyes, before fixing his gaze upon Payton. “So, is this the lecherous, too-bonnie-for-his-own-health lad ye are cuckolding your bastard of a husband with?”

The question was asked so mildly, it took a moment for Kirstie to realize the import of it. “Where did ye hear that?” she demanded, hoping a swift offense would divert him. “Oh, Jesu, that news hasnae reached home, has it?”

“Nay. I heard it in an alehouse. Some MacIyes were talking about ye and what to do with him. ’Tis how I kenned where to find ye, something else ye neglected to tell me. So, is he?”

“I really dinnae think this is the proper place or time for us to discuss this,” she hissed.

Eudard shrugged. “I will be here for a while. We can discuss it later.” He looked at Connor. “Several MacIyes are staying at the Hawk and Dove. Several more are at a wee house on the upper High Street, one marked with their clan name.”

“They are nay staying with Sir Roderick?” asked Gillyanne.

“Nay,” replied Eudard. “Odd, dinnae ye think? Ye may not need to work so verra hard to convince them that he is naught but filth they had best quickly scrape from their boots. ’Tis clear there is little affection between him and the others. The ones I o’erheard at the inn dinnae like him at all. If he wasnae one of the laird’s sons, I dinnae think ye would be hearing from them at all.”

“Now
that
sounds verra promising,” said Connor. “Some of them might already suspect what he is.”

Before Payton knew it, Connor and Gillyanne were gone, hurrying away to deliver invitations to the MacIyes to come to Payton on the morrow and to make certain that Gillyanne had all she needed to make her potion. Ian took Callum off to show him the best places to aim his knife and Michael, deciding that sounded interesting, went with them. Kirstie was headed out the door, babbling excuses about needing to check on the children and seeing if there was enough food for everyone, before Payton had even seen her stand up. He glanced around, then looked at Eudard, and realized he had been left alone with his lover’s twin brother. The way Eudard slowly smiled was not particularly comforting.

“That was an impressive escape your sister just made,” Payton said.

“Aye, she is verra good at that,” said Eudard. “Learned the trick of it when she was but a wee lass. With eight brothers, retreat is oftimes the best way. So, ye are the mon who has stolen Roderick’s wife, tempting her into committing adultery.”

“She isnae his wife,” Payton snapped, then groaned when he realized how telling his reaction had been. “He ne’er bedded her, ye ken. Ne’er consummated the union.”

“Ah, I thought not. Of course, ye have undoubtedly rectified that.”

“I have nay wish to fight with Kirstie’s brother, especially her twin brother.”

“I have nay great wish to fight with ye, either. Nay anymore. When I first heard this tale, I was rather hot for your blood. Ranting on about all the ways I would kill ye. Geld ye first, of course.”

“Of course. Only to be expected.”

“Then Michael verra quietly said, ‘She is alive.’ I, being a calm mon, a reasonable mon, naturally tried to clout him offside the head with my walking stick and demanded he tell me exactly what he meant by that.”

Eudard had a very odd sense of humor, Payton decided, and studied the thick, carved stick the man held. “I hope ye missed the poor lad.”

“Aye, he is admirably quick on his feet. He then said he didnae have a sister, so couldnae guess how a mon would feel if he discovered his sister had been debauched by a bonnie rogue.” He nodded faintly when Payton winced. “But he does think, in Kirstie’s case, wasnae it more important that she was alive, that she was safe and protected, and that someone was helping her fight her perverted bastard of a husband? Being as I am so fond of hearing a hard truth, I tried to hit him again. He skipped away, still yapping at me, and we played that game for a wee while. Then I decided he might be right, and I was tired, and it was probably a good thing I have a limp or I might have hurt the lad. Of course, he is impudent. A sound rap with a stick wouldnae have been completely amiss.”

“Quite right. I occasionally think that about Callum and he is but eleven. ’Tis probably for the best that I resist the urge.”

“True. He has suffered enough. So has Michael.”

“Oh, I wasnae thinking on that, though ye are right.”

“Nay? Then what were ye thinking of?”

“Callum has knives. Seven at last count.” Payton smiled faintly when Eudard laughed. “Right now he needs to fair bristle with weapons, I am thinking.”

“Aye, and my sister had need of you. Mayhap not in that particular way,” he drawled, “but in many another. It pinches that she didnae come to us, but I can understand why. Ye live in Roderick’s world and, kin for kin, coin for coin, ye can match him. Ye have kept her alive, ye have kept her safe, and, I think, ye have made her happier than she has been in five verra long years. So, nay, no fighting and no interfering. Nay now. Later, if she survives this, but ye break her heart?” He shrugged again. “We shall see.”

Payton frowned slightly. “I cannae say I wouldnae break her heart, though ’tisnae my intention. My intentions are all that is honorable. I just thought I would wait until she isnae wed to Roderick any longer ere I speak to her. When she is a widow, I will make her my wife.”

“Fair enough. More than fair. So, I may now rest easy and ignore the frolics going on beneath my verra nose.”

“I but pray ye can convince her of that. Mayhap, the next time she skips by, ye could try to trip her with that stick.”

Eudard grinned and then held his hand out when Payton stood up. “Heave us out of this chair.” Once on his feet, Eudard walked to the door at Payton’s side. “That fellow Ian is teaching the young lad how to fight?”

“Aye. Down in the cellars, if ye are of a mind to see it.”

“I believe I am. Lead on.”

Just as they neared the door to the cellars, Kirstie walked out of the kitchen. Before she could escape, Payton caught her round the waist and held her to his side. She blushed furiously, then started to frown in confusion when she realized Eudard was grinning. Since Payton had no intention of speaking to her of marriage yet, he suspected her brother’s easy acceptance of their sharing a bed was going to puzzle her.

“What are ye doing now, Eudard?” Kirstie asked her brother.

“Going down to watch Ian train the lads,” Eudard replied. “And what are ye planning to do?”

“Weel, I was going to—” She screeched in surprise when Payton picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

“We are going afrolicking,” Payton drawled.

“Ah, missed your morning one, did ye?” Eudard grinned.

“Exactly.”

“Weel, have a wee frolic for me. And, I will now pretend that I am blind as weel as lame.”

Payton heard Kirstie gasp and felt sure she had received her brother’s less-than-subtle message. He suspected he would still have to indulge in some soothing of her renewed concerns, but, as he started up the stairs, he decided he was more than up to the task.

“I cannae believe it worked!”

Neither could Payton, but he just smiled at Kirstie as she, Gillyanne, and Callum slipped into his great hall. He had covered his back well enough, but it had still been a risk. It pleased him to have been proven right about the MacIye sense of honor and fair play. The fact that they had been willing to talk instead of simply cutting his throat on the spot for the perceived insult to their family, meant that they would be willing to listen. Unless they were too enraged by the trick he had just played on them, he thought as he looked over the six unconcious men and grimaced.

“Six of them?” Gillyanne asked as she quickly checked each man to be sure they were all simply unconscious and had suffered no ill effects from her brew or from falling on the floor.

“Eight,” announced Connor as he walked in dragging an unconcious MacIye, Strong Ian following with another.

“Did ye hurt them badly?” Gillyanne frowned at the two men Connor and Ian tossed onto the floor.

“Nay much.”

“They thought they had me cornered after they slipped round Malkie, Donald, and Angus,” Strong Ian explained, “but Connor came up behind them and slammed their heads together.”

“Simple is always best,” Payton murmured and grinned when Gillyanne muttered a few well-chosen curses as she checked the men’s heads. “Eudard and Michael?”

“Here,” said Eudard as he, Malkie, and Michael entered the room only to pause and gape at the MacIyes. “Eight of them?”

“I would have brought more,” said Connor.

“I am flattered,” said Payton.

Connor shrugged. “Ye are little, but ye are slippery.”

“Was that a compliment?” Kirstie asked softly as she came to sit beside Payton’s chair.

“I think so.” He looked at Michael and Callum as they came to sit near him. “Are ye sure about this?”

Callum turned from watching the men tie the MacIyes to their chairs. “Aye. Ye and Kirstie are fighting for me and the other bairns. Ye have risked your lives and your good names. Now your kinsmen have begun to step into the fight. If telling what happened to me and all I ken and saw will help, I must do it.”

“And no one here will be telling anyone what they hear,” added Michael. “It has to stop. It
has
to.”

Payton briefly clasped the youth on the shoulder. “It will.”

By the time Wee Alice had brought in food and some untainted drink, and left to watch over the children, the first of the MacIyes was rousing. Gillyanne and Kirstie set some wine, bread, and cheese before the men while Connor and Eudard stood behind four of the MacIyes, and Strong Ian and Malkie stood guard behind the other four. The MacIyes were disarmed, but, if released from their bonds they could still prove dangerous. Gillyanne and Kirstie were just slipping back into their seats flanking him, when the last of the MacIyes opened his eyes. Almost as one, they all glared at him.

“We were willing to talk,” growled the eldest of them, Sir Keith.

“Oh, aye, and then ye meant to chop him into wee bits,” muttered Kirstie.

“And ye, our kinsmon’s wife, dare to cavort with another right before our eyes!”

“We are nay cavorting! We are just trying to stay alive, Uncle.”

“Uncle?” Payton asked.

“Aye,” replied Kirstie, still meeting Sir Keith’s hard glare with a fierce one of her own. “They obviously felt ye were a formidable opponent. Ye have Sir Keith, Roderick’s uncle, and next to him is his firstborn son Tomas. Then there is another uncle, Sir Thomas, and his firstborn son William. On t’other side of the table are four of Roderick’s brothers—Sir Andrew, Sir Brian, Sir Adam, and Sir Ross. ’Tis clear my husband’s clan holds the honor of the MacIyes more dear than Roderick e’er has.”

“Certainly more dear than his whore of a wife does. Ow!” Sir Keith glared back at Connor, who had sharply rappped him on the head with his knuckles. “The lass is here carrying on with the pretty fool. All of the king’s court can speak of naught else. Do ye expect us to do naught but smile and wish her a fine time?”

“Lady Kirstie did not seek me out because of my pretty face or rumored skills in the bedchamber,” Payton said. “She sought someone to help her after her husband tried to drown her.” He was a little surprised by the sudden, tense silence of the MacIyes.

“I wonder if their silence o’er that charge is because they ken Roderick would do such a thing or because they arenae verra surprised that I might drive a mon to try it,” drawled Kirstie, then smiled when Gillyanne laughed.

“Ye be quiet,” Payton ordered her gently before turning a hard look on the MacIyes. “Now, if ye gentlemen swear ye will behave and hear us out, we will untie you. ’Tis time ye heard the truth.”

After exchanging looks with his kinsmen, Sir Keith nodded. “We will nay be fighting ye today.”

The moment they were untied, the MacIyes began to help themselves to the food and drink set before them, confident that this time it would be safe. “What do ye want us to believe the truth is?” asked Sir Keith.

“Roderick tried to murder his wife,” Payton replied. “He chased her down and threw her in the river. The mon forgot she could swim.”

Sir Andrew snorted, then muttered, “That sounds like something that fool would do.”

“So, he tried to kill her,” said Sir Keith after exchanging another round of glances with his kinsmen. “He failed. Most lasses would flee to their kinsmen for shelter or enter a convent. But, she didnae. She ran to ye. Why?”

“I was closer,” Payton drawled and winced when Gillyanne kicked him in the shins, painfully reminding him that these were not men he should antagonize. “Lady Kirstie had already begun to search for a champion ere her husband tossed her in a river. When she pulled herself out of the water, she sought out the mon she had finally chosen—me. I fear she heeded the many flattering, but somewhat exaggerated, tales of how I rush to help the helpless, rally to righteous causes, and so forth. She needed a champion, ye understand, for she kenned exactly why her husband had tried to drown her. Lady Kirstie had discovered why, after five long years of marriage, her husband had yet to bed her.”

After another heavy silence, Sir Andrew said, “Curse it, I had always wondered. He likes the men, eh?”

“Lady Kirstie wouldnae care about that.”

“I would have found some way to compromise or to end the marriage verra quietly,” Kirstie said.

“But, I fear her husband’s secret is verra dark indeed,” said Payton. “’Tis nay men he lusts after, but children.” He waited patiently as his allies quelled the furious protests his guests made. “Come, gentlemen, we all ken that such evil exists. ’Tis nay banished from this world simply by denying or ignoring it.”

“’Tis a foul, black deed ye accuse our kinsman of,” said Sir Keith. “Why should we heed what ye say?”

After closely studying the faces of the men, Payton replied, “Because I speak the ugly truth and I think some of ye are nay so surprised.”

“Nay,” said Sir Andrew. “I willnae believe it.”

The vehemence of the man’s denial told Payton that Sir Andrew was probably trying to convince himself of his own words. For a brief moment, he had hoped there was a way to save Michael and Callum from having to tell their tales. It did not really surprise him, however, that the MacIyes needed much more to accept that their clan, their closest blood, had bred such evil.

“I will speak first,” said Callum, slowly standing up.

“And who are ye?” demanded Sir Keith.

“No one important. Just one of the wretched wee ones who creep about the streets and alleys of a town trying to find enough to survive another day. One of those ye fine gentlemen dinnae heed, save to kick the wretch aside if he stumbles into your path. ’Tis where Sir Roderick found me. ’Tis where he finds many of his prey. I doubted his tale of giving me a better life, but he dragged me away with him. I was soon shown that I was right to doubt his promises.” Taking a deep breath, Callum told his tale in a flat, hard voice, and with the occasional coarse bluntness of a child of the streets.

Kirstie reached out and took Callum’s hand in hers. It tore her heart out to hear all that had happened to Callum, to the other children Callum had seen come and go, even though she had known or guessed most of it. She saw tears on Gillyanne’s face and did not look at the woman again, afraid she would give in to the grief choking her. The MacIyes just stared at Callum. Each one had lost all color and several looked as near to weeping as she felt.

“Brave lad,” Payton murmured, briefly clasping Callum’s shoulder as the boy sat down again.

“I just kept telling myself it isnae my shame,” Callum replied. “All of ye keep saying so, and I think I begin to believe it.”

“And so ye should, for ’tis the truth,” Payton said.

“Ye are no street waif,” said Sir Keith in a hoarse voice when Michael slowly stood up.

“Nay, sir,” replied Michael. “I am the fourth son of Sir Ronald Campbell, laird of Dunspeen, a small, poor holding.”

“Jesu,” whispered Sir Keith, “the sons of lairds as weel?”

“Nay so verra many,” Michael said, “and fewer still of any family of great standing. The bastard’s greatest shield is our own fear and shame, isnae it? I am near to emptying my belly at the thought of speaking about what I suffered, though I have been too old for him for a while now, and of all I saw and heard. Yet, when I met the wee ones
Lady Kirstie saved, I kenned that it will ne’er stop unless someone speaks out. Silence might save my pride and heart, but it allows that bastard to keep visiting his evil upon the innocent.”

“Sit down, lad. Ye need say no more. The lad Callum told us more than we need. Jesu, more than any mon wishes to hear.”

Michael sat down. “Do ye believe it, then? Did ye guess what he was?”

“A wee bit, but ’tis one of those things one fights to blind oneself to. We couldnae ignore it enough to give him our own bairns to watch o’er, though, could we? If he did manage to get to any in the family or others upon our lands, no one spoke out about it. Or, they died,” he added softly.

Payton could tell by the tormented look upon the older man’s face that he was thinking of far too many possibilities, of children whose deaths may not have been the tragic, but all too sadly common, natural loss of a child. “And now?”

“He is dead to us,” Sir Keith said, and the other MacIyes muttered their agreement, even Roderick’s brothers.

“Will ye make that known?”

“Aye, but nay the reason why, if we can avoid it.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “The whispers have begun, fed by ye, I suspect. When ’tis known we have cast Roderick from the clan, most will feel those whispers are all true.” He looked straight at Payton. “Ye will kill him.”

There was only the barest hint of a question in the man’s voice. “Aye. I will.”

“Weel, that was unpleasant,” said Eudard when the MacIyes finally left.

“Aye,” agreed Payton. “Most families can count a rotted branch or two upon the family tree, but ’tis nay usually one as evil as this, thank God. Now they will fear there is bad blood within their lineage. ’Tis to be hoped they willnae hold fast to such foolishness for too long.” He looked at Callum. “Ye did weel this day, lad. As did ye, Michael,” he added, and lightly slapped the older boy on the back.

Callum shrugged. “It helped that I was verra certain no one here would e’er repeat what I said, just as Michael claimed.”

“I had thought they might ask for the right to deal with Roderick themselves,” said Kirstie.

“They obviously dinnae want to spill the blood of such a close kinsmon,” said Payton. “I am glad of it. That right should be ours.”

Kirstie filled her goblet with wine and took a long drink. She felt relieved that they would not have to fear the MacIye clan anymore, but also felt sad for Sir Keith and the others. They were good men, had always been kind to her. That their proud name should be so stained by Roderick had to be a hard blow.

Now the only one they needed to watch out for was Roderick and whatever men he could hold at his side. She had no doubt that, when the MacIyes made it known that Roderick was dead to them, they would also avow the innocence of Payton Murray. Guilt would prompt them to ensure all the hounds were removed from the hunt, leaving Payton free to fight Roderick. She knew it would not be easy, but suspected Payton did as well.

“Your name will soon be cleared,” she said to Payton.

“Do ye think so?” he asked.

“Oh, aye. The MacIyes may not be able to draw Roderick’s blood, but they want
him dead. Dead, buried, and forgotten. They will make it clear that ye are no wife thief, for they will wish ye to be able to fix all of your attention and skill upon bringing Roderick to justice.”

“And so your name will also be cleared.”

“Ah, true, although I dinnae believe I have loomed so verra large in all of this. If naught else, few people ken who I am. Roderick didnae allow me to mingle with verra many people. Afraid of what I might say, I suppose.”

“What do ye plan to do now?” asked Connor.

“Take my ease,” replied Payton. “I am nay sure for how long, but I mean to wait until Roderick is thoroughly cast off, and all ken it. I also want it kenned that I have a rightful vengeance to enact so that I may hunt the beast down without fear of any consequences. Nay for myself as much as for Kirstie.”

“And ye believe the MacIyes will openly give ye the right to hunt their kinsmon?”

“Aye. As Kirstie says, they want the shame of him dead and buried. There have been whispers about the mon and not all of them begun by me or Kirstie. Once his kinsmen cast him out, those whispers will, indeed, be seen as the truth. Although no one will speak openly of his crimes, they will shun him for them. And, they will silently condone whate’er justice I mete out.”

“Gilly and I will take ourselves to the king’s court, be your eyes and ears.”

Payton had to bite back a smile, for Connor’s tone of voice revealed what a painful sacrifice he felt he was making. “Ye dinnae have to.”

“Aye, we do. Ye and the lass cannae go, nor can Eudard, for he is her kinsmon. But, ye need to ken when the path is cleared for ye to act openly and forcefully against that bastard. Since word went out that ye stole that bastard’s wife, ye havenae been able to do much at all save hide behind guards and closed doors, occasionally getting word from Sir Bryan. Rest. The furor will die down soon and Gilly and I will tell ye exactly when ye can show your pretty face again. Ye will need all your strength and wits about ye then.” He lifted his goblet of wine. “To victory.”