The Silent Highlander by Donna Fletcher

Chapter 21

“You worry, son,” Fergus said, joining Odran on the top steps of the keep.

Odran eyed the village busy with activity. “Three weeks since I’ve arrived home with my wife and no word, nothing, from the clans that took up with the Clan MacFarden against us.”

“They lost, so they hide and lick their wounds,” his da advised.

“They may hide but they don’t lick their wounds—they plot. They are not through with us yet. They intend to see the Clan MacBridan gone and they won’t stop until they see it done. What I can’t understand is who is truly behind it all. We have maintained good relationships with the clans that suddenly rose up against us. Why? What changed?”

“The curse,” his da reminded.

“Why now? Why not five years ago, ten years ago?” Odran asked it more of himself than his da. Why all of a sudden had the clans revolted against them?

“Who can say what the cause? It has happened and must be dealt with,” his da argued.

Odran turned his attention away from the village to his da. “If the cause is not recognized, the problem will continue.”

“Isn’t that what the bloody curse wants, continued strife and suffering? You don’t know how much I have wished I could return to that day and change what I did. As soon as Lady Aila’s curse fell from her dying lips, I knew we were doomed. It felt as if her words were caught on the wind and swirled around us, capturing us in its evil. I should have never listened to Lochlann and Lochlann never should have allowed the King’s rule to touch the Highlands. None of it was worth it.”

His da’s regret was something he had heard often through the years. It did little good now, except to let his da spew his remorse, then offer what he always did to his da—absolution.

“You couldn’t know the cost, Da. You did what you had to do at the time.” This time, however, he offered something he never thought possible. He offered hope. “The past is done, Da, it can’t be changed, but we can take charge of our future. It’s time we spoke with the clan leaders who opposed us on a matter that should have never brought on a battle. We need to bring about a peaceable solution.”

“I would like to believe that is possible, son, but it isn’t the clans we need to worry about—it’s that blasted curse. It waits patiently to attack us again and I fear its strength has grown through the years and will bring more sorrow than ever down on us. Be careful, son, your hope will be dashed before you have a chance to enjoy it.” Fergus rested a hand on his son’s shoulder as if drawing from his strength. “I go visit with your mum. She grows stronger in body and spirit and it is a pleasure talking with her once again.”

His da entered the keep, his shoulders sagging from the guilt and burden of the curse that had weighed him down all these years. His da’s warning couldn’t help but strike a chord in Odran. How often, through the years, had he allowed himself to hope only to be delivered a blow that felt like a stake driven through his heart? Was it better he always expected disappointment? Maybe at one time that was so, but since Elysia entered his life things had changed. His wife may have had difficulty letting go of Saber, but he also continued to have difficultly freeing himself of the man.

Saber had no problems, no past that haunted him, no regret, no worry of pain and sorrow haunting him endlessly. When he thought of that, he questioned once again his selfishness in marrying Elysia. It was one thing enduring the years of suffering. It was another having one so kind and innocent join you in that suffering.

“You ponder heavily.”

Odran smiled at the sound of his wife’s voice and turned to hook her waist with his arm and swing her up against him with ease to steal a kiss.

She rubbed at the creases that lingered between his eyes. “What burdens you?”

“That you have been gone from my side too long,” he said and kissed her again.

“Your tongue fibs too easily,” she scolded.

He placed her on her feet and took hold of her hand. “The quiet.”

“Oh, you wait for harm to strike the clan,” she said, understanding.

“It is the way of things.”

“Isn’t that life, though? Good things happen and bad things happen,” she said.

“And when there is more bad than good?” he asked, hungry for an explanation.

Her response came quickly. “It tortures the soul and makes one question. What tortures your soul, Odran?”

“Seeing those I love suffer,” he said, “which is why I will make sure this curse ends with me.”

Shouts and screams had them both turning to the village.

They both rushed forward, Odran holding firm to her hand.

“He killed her! He killed her!” a woman screamed and pointed to a man trapped by a circle of men.

They parted when Odran drew near and Elysia gasped seeing Bram in the middle, his garments askew, his hair disheveled, blood spatters on his face, and his hands soaked with it.

Bram shook his head. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

Finch stepped out of a nearby cottage and Odran cast him a questioning glance.

“Glenis is dead. She’s been stabbed—several times,” Finch said.

Lendra pushed her way through the crowd and an arm shot out to stop her from entering the circle of men and going to Bram.

“I didn’t do this, Lendra. You know I would never harm a woman,” Bram pleaded to the one person he knew would believe him.

“He’s not of our clan,” someone shouted.

“He’s here to do us harm,” another called out.

“Hang him and be done with it,” yelled another.

Bram shook his head, his eyes wide with fright. “I did not do this. I did not kill Glenis.”

“Secure him in one of the huts,” Odran ordered one of his warriors.

“No! No!” Bram pleaded. “I did not do this. I would never harm a woman. My lady, please, I beg you. You know me. Please help me.”

Lendra stepped in front of Elysia. “Bram is right, Elysia. You know he would not do something so vicious to a woman.”

“You will address my wife properly, Lendra,” Odran ordered.

“She is upset, Odran, and we were friends long before I became your wife. And I must admit, I agree with Lendra. This is not something Bram would do. He thinks far too highly of himself and wants others to think the same.”

“Anyone is capable of anything under the right circumstances,” Odran said and released her hand. “Return to the keep with Lendra while I see to this.”

“No,” Elysia said.

Odran’s brow shot up in shock at her refusal and he scowled at her.

Elysia ignored him, stepped around him, and headed for the cottage where Finch stood. She was jerked to a halt by a sudden hand to her arm.

“You are not going into that cottage,” Odran ordered.

“I need to see what happened if I’m to determine Bram’s innocence,” she argued.

“You don’t need to determine anything. It is obvious. Bram may act like he did not do this but he’s got blood on him, quite a bit of blood, which does not bode well for him.”

“So you claim him guilty without further thought or proof? That is the very reason I will see Glenis for myself. I will not see someone from my clan wrongly accused and punished,” Elysia insisted. “We waste time arguing while a murderer walks free among the clan.”

Odran shook his head, mumbled beneath his breath, and kept hold of his wife’s arm as he walked with her to the cottage.

“It isn’t a pleasant sight for a woman,” Finch said with a look to Odran.

“But for a man it is a pleasant sight?” Elysia asked.

Finch stood with his mouth agape and with a nod from Odran stepped aside.

An odor hit Elysia when she entered the cottage and she was reminded of Bliss explaining how the body gave off different odors after death depending on how long the death occurred. It always amazed her how Bliss would pay attention and keep track of the finest detail. That was what she did now—paid attention to the finest detail.

Glenis lay on the bed, blood soaking her shift from her chest down to her stomach, reaching almost to between her legs. Her eyes stared wide and her mouth hung open. From what Elysia could see, Glenis had suffered at least four stab wounds. Why so many? Two spots alone would have killed her almost instantly. So why keep stabbing her? Anger? Revenge? Elysia’s eyes traveled over the bed and she snatched up a blanket off the bottom of the bed and gave it a sniff, then dropped it back on the bed. She turned, almost bumping into her husband and stepped around him, paying no mind to the words he began to exchange with Finch.

She noticed the two tankards on the table, an overturned chair, blood splatter on it, and—she squatted down to have a closer look at the earthen floor. More blood.

“She struggled,” Elysia said softly.

“It appears that way,” her husband agreed. “Bram probably stabbed her near to where you stand. She must have staggered to the bed and dropped down on it.”

Elysia offered her own version. “Or Bram could have woken to find her on the floor, gone to her, and lifted her to place on the bed thinking he could help her.”

“The struggle would have woken him,” Finch argued.

“Not if he had fallen into a drunken stupor,” Elysia said.

Finch shook his head. “A poor excuse.”

“I would agree with that except that Bram thinks himself too wise to be fooled and yet Tavish proved him wrong,” she said with a glance to her husband. “Bram was here enjoying a night of coupling with Glenis.”

“How do you know that?” Finch asked. “She rarely invited men to her bed.”

Elysia pointed to the bed. “The blanket smells of it. So why couple with her, then kill her?” She shook her head. “Something is not right.”

“It appears clear to me,” Finch said. “Bram turned on her in a fit of anger and killed her.”

Elysia shook her head again. “Bram cajoles women, praises them, endears them to him—”

“And uses them to get what he wants from them,” Finch finished.

“Aye, for them to sing his praises,” Elysia said. “This is not something Bram would do. This was a vicious, angry attack and that’s not Bram. All I’m asking, Odran, is that you talk with Bram and take into account what you see here before you condemn Bram for the killing.” Her stomach roiled at the thought of what Bram might face.

“I’ll consider everything,” Odran said and turned to Finch to issue orders.

Elysia’s stomach didn’t stop churning, the odors growing stronger and stinging her nostrils. Her churning stomach worsened and the room seemed to close in around her. The unease suddenly rose up as if to consume her and at that moment she realized she was about to faint.

“Odran!” she called out with what strength she had.

He turned and rushed to her, his arm snatching her up before she hit the floor. His heart slammed into his chest as he hurried her out of the cottage and sat on a bench, keeping his wife tucked in his lap.

Lendra suddenly appeared in front of him, a wet cloth in her hand.

Odran took it and wiped his wife’s face repeatedly with it. “Elysia! Wake up, Elysia!”

Finch chased people who had begun to gather, worried whispers circulating fast at seeing a lifeless Lady Elysia in Lord Odran’s arms.

Elysia stirred, a faint moan falling from her lips before her eyes slowly opened. She smiled softly, seeing her husband. “Odran.”

“You frightened me half to death,” Odran scolded.

“The odor overcame me,” she said, though wondered if it had been the bairn, since she had never fainted at odors before this.

“I never should have al—”

“Nonsense,” she said, trying to sit up, but his strong arms kept her as she was. “It was a mere faint nothing more.”

A few people who lingered at a distance saw her move and whispers started again though this time they were spread with smiles.

Elysia pressed her finger to her husband’s lips when he went to speak. “I am not going to rest. I don’t need to rest. I am going with you to speak with Bram.”

This time when she shifted to sit up, he let her, though kept her in his lap.

“Don’t bother to argue with me,” she cautioned when he went to speak again. “Something is not right here and we must figure it out together.” She held up her hand to once again prevent him from speaking. “And you never know, I might faint again and I would rather have you there to catch me.”

Odran couldn’t argue with that. He wouldn’t want anyone catching his wife but himself. “You will tell me if you do not feel well.”

It wasn’t a request but she confirmed anyway. “Immediately.”

Odran took his wife’s hand once they were both on their feet.

Lendra stood off to the side, wringing her hands in worry.

“A moment, Odran,” she said with a nod to Lendra.

He released her hand and went to speak with Finch.

“You have to help Bram, Elysia, you must,” Lendra pleaded frantically. “You know he couldn’t have done this.”

“I agree and I will do everything I can to make sure Bram does not suffer for this,” Elysia assured Lendra. “But I must ask you. Has Bram been poking Glenis?”

Lendra’s shoulders sagged and she looked away for a moment, then nodded.

Elysia continued with questions. “How long?”

“Almost since we got here,” Lendra admitted reluctantly. “And since you probably wonder, he has paid me no mind since we arrived here. It was as if he’d been presented with a fresh feast of women to enjoy. He had no time for me at all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lendra,” Elysia said, her heart aching for her friend.

“Still, I don’t want to see him suffer for something he didn’t do,” Lendra said.

Elysia’s hand flew to her stomach as a wave of nausea hit her.

“What’s wrong?” Lendra asked concerned, seeing Elysia pale.

“I’m not feeling well,” she said, a sudden worry for the bairn frightening her.

“That was no scene for you to look upon. You should go rest,” Lendra urged.

Her stomach roiled even worse and she reached out to grab Lendra’s arm.

“Lord Odran!” Lendra wisely shouted.

It took few steps for Odran to reach his wife.

“I’m not feeling well. I think I need to rest,” she said, reaching for his arm.

He lifted her gently into his arms and hurried to the keep with her, Lendra following behind her.

Dorrit rushed toward them, but he didn’t bother to explain, though Lendra did as both women followed him up the stairs to his bedchamber.

“Sit me up, please,” Elysia said when her husband went to place her on the bed and he did as she asked, bracing pillows behind her back.

He removed her shoes and tucked the blanket up around her waist and once again admonished himself for letting her look upon the gruesome scene. “I should have never allowed you in that cottage.”

Elysia didn’t believe what she saw had anything to do with her uneasy stomach. She believed the bairn was finally making himself known, but she couldn’t let her husband know that. And she didn’t want to lie to him, so she said, “Perhaps, but I’m sure a brief rest will see me fine.”

Odran reached down to brush a few strands of hair off her face, his own stomach churning with worry for her. “You will stay abed for the rest of the day.”

“That’s not necessary,” she argued softly.

“Appease me in this, wife, or I will worry endlessly over you,” he said, running his thumb faintly across her lips.

With her stomach still roiling, though not as bad as before, and a sudden tiredness creeping up on her, but mostly because she didn’t want to be the cause of worry to her husband, she acquiesced. “I will stay abed.”

He leaned down and kissed her lips gently. “Thank you. My worry eases some.” He reluctantly stepped away from the bed.

“You will tell me what Bram has to say?” she asked anxiously.

He turned shaking his head, then nodded. “Aye, I will share all with you so you don’t unwisely go seeing things you shouldn’t and making yourself ill.”

“You are the best husband,” Elysia said with a wide grin.

“A husband who will never again let you look upon such a gruesome scene,” he said and headed out the door.

“Lord Odran is right,” Dorrit scolded. “Lady Margaret got so upset hearing the news about Glenis that Lord Fergus insisted she return to bed and rest. He sits with her to calm her. Such a terrible sight is not fit for a lady to look upon.”

Elysia ignored the scolding. “Could you brew me some chamomile? And it would do well to take some to Lady Margaret as well.”

“Aye, my lady, very thoughtful of you,” Dorrit said and out the door she went.

Lendra went to the door and closed it.

“Worry not, Lendra, I plan on speaking to Bram myself and making sure my husband sees that Bram is proven innocent of Glenis’s death,” Elysia said.

Lendra stopped at the side of the bed. “I have no doubt of that but,” —she hesitated— “I need to ask you something, Elysia, friend to friend.”

“Of course, Lendra,” Elysia said, concerned by the strange way Lendra looked at her.

Lendra hesitated to speak and lowered her voice to a whisper when she finally spoke. “Is it possible you are with child?”