"Hold on, Manus," said Hilda as they began down the corridor that led to the great hall.
"What now, woman?"
"I need to fix her hair."
"What? Why now?"
"Because, ye old fool, they will cut it if it is hanging free like this, and she doesnae need that humiliation."
"Go on then, but be quick about it."
"Why would they cut off my hair?" Mora asked.
"Dinnae ken," mumbled Hilda as she began to twist up and pin up Mora's hair. "Something to do with getting the noose on right," she mumbled.
The woman choked out the words so Mora asked no more questions. She stared at the doors at the far end of the hall. Lachlan, Duncan, and Murdoch walked in and went straight into the great hall. Murdoch cast an anguished look her way and she sighed. He could not stop this on his own and she knew it would trouble him for a long time.
It troubled her that the three brothers could not unite against the one making their lives a misery. She had given up trying to understand why her uncle was so determined to ignore the monster that was his son. He did not overtly dote over the young man yet did so much to cover over all the signs that the son was rotten to the core. How could he not see that he was condemning his other sons to misery, perhaps even death, by doing nothing about Robert? He was also condemning his own people. Instead of a fine, strong keep and a good laird as his legacy, the old laird could leave behind a place filled with misery, cruelty, and death.
"How can he nay see it?" she asked herself, and then realized she had spoken aloud.
"See what, lass?" asked Hilda.
"That what every mon hopes to leave behind is something good, something that will be remembered. What he has fought so hard to hide still lives in Robert and it will taint everything the Ogilvys have built here."
"Aye," said Manus. "'Tis why I have been looking for a place Hilda and I can go to."
Hilda stared at her husband in shock. "Ye have? Why? Ye are the one who always reminds me he is our laird!"
"If he dies he willnae be anymore, will he? Robert will," he said, and lowered his voice, glancing around nervously. "And I willnae serve him. Ye think he is bad now? He will turn monstrous cruel when his da is dead and no longer has to worry about what the mon might say and do. Nay, I dinnae plan for me and mine to be here for that. I want us out of his reach, especially our girls."
"Oh, Manus." Hilda hugged him and the man turned a brilliant red. "I was so afraid for our girls."
He awkwardly patted her on the back. "Did ye really think I would chance them ending up like poor Mary? Or alive but broken like so many of the lassies here? Nay, not our lassies. I didnae ken what to think so I thought, get out of here, Manus. So just calm your mind, loving."
"Thank ye, love. Thank ye."
"Who is poor Mary?" Mora asked, touched by the man's efforts to ease his wife's worry.
"Mary was a kitchen maid. Murdoch was a lad and he loved this rabbit and Robert made her prepare the lad's rabbit for the spit. Then Murdoch came in, obviously upset, and Robert gloated, told the girl to cut him more. He had beaten on her-the bruises showed for weeks-so she did, crying all the time. Poor little Murdoch emptied his belly all over the table and Robert. Mary was so upset, so bothered by what Robert had made her do, she went and told the laird. He actually did something about that and gave Robert a terrible thrashing. Then about a fortnight later, Mary disappeared. We found her down by the burn, beaten, raped, and then hanged from a tree. Oh, and her tongue cut out."
Mora shook her head. "How does a mon get so twisted about?"
"Born that way," said Manus. "Got it from his mama. The laird's first wife was mad or sick or something. She would rage at time over nothing worth such anger and other times would weep and wail as if she was watching her bairn die. There were times when she was fine though and could be the sweetest lass. That's when the laird fell in love with her and wed her. Then she had Robert. As a bairn, Robert was much like any other. The laird himself took over the bairn's care with the help of some of the women here because his wife tried to smother her child during one of her weepy spells. She killed herself a few weeks later. It wasnae until Robert got older that one began to notice that something was not quite right with the lad. Robert was mean, bone-deep mean.
"Laird married again and the lass was fine, except that she hadnae wanted to wed him. She had Duncan and Lachlan and she was good enough as a mother but 'twas certain she didnae want to be one to Robert. She died in a fall from her horse. It was whispered about that it happened as she had been riding back from her lover's arms.
"Then we had Murdoch's mither. Sweet, sweet girl, a lot younger than the laird, scared of everything, but tried hard to be a mother to the laird's boys. Then she had Murdoch. She adored that child, played with him all the time but ne'er ignored the other lads. Laird was real fond of her. Murdoch had his mother the longest, too, right up until he was walking and talking. Then the lass who wouldnae e'en stroll by the burn she was so afraid of the moving water, went to the burn and drowned. Robert was the only witness to it."
"What a sad life my uncle has had," murmured Mora. "So, Robert killed more than Murdoch's pet, didnae he? He killed the poor lad's mither."
"Aye, I think he did," said Hilda. "Near the end she was afraid of him and kept him away from Murdoch."
"I dinnae understand why the brothers dinnae unite against him."
"I have been here all my life, lass, and I have seen how Robert keeps them down," said Manus. "Ridding the keep of anyone or anything they love. Just as he did with Murdoch. Then he showed them how easily he can get to them when they are sleeping. He has ground Lachlan and Duncan beneath his boot since the day they were born. The only rebellion they have ever shown is how they try hard to defend Murdoch in some way. They are tugging on a wee scrap of bravery to do even that much."
"It is a horrifying tale," Mora whispered, then stiffened in shock when she saw who entered the keep next. "Gybbon," she whispered, and took a step toward him only to feel Manus's grip tighten on her arm.
Hilda turned, putting herself between Mora and the men at the door, probably to keep her from acting on seeing Gybbon, so Mora took a moment to collect herself. Just because Gybbon was here did not mean she would be freed. She caught the glimpse of a redhead over Hilda's shoulder and smiled a little. It was Sigimor and he was holding the doors to the hall open for someone to go through. He was at least on a standing with her uncle, so there might be a bit of hope.
"Weel, I didnae expect such a fine answer to your letter, lass." Hilda turned and smiled at Mora. "It is hopeful, aye."
"Aye, but I am nay allowing it to be too hopeful. I think the disappointment would be more than I could bear and I am trying to look brave and calm."
"That is probably wise. But, ne'er underestimate the Laird of Dubheidland."
"Oh, I would ne'er be that foolish. I am verra sorry I have brought him this trouble, however."
"I doubt he is bothered. If he was, he would have just sent ye on your way. The mon doesnae bother with all that politeness some folk do."
Mora could not believe she could, but she laughed softly. "Ah, nay, he isnae. He has married a woman who kens how to deal with him verra weel indeed though."
Hilda nodded. "The English lady. She has spirit. It showed when he brought her here to look at the laird and she said he was being poisoned. No one argued and have done all she told them to. Laird's better, too."
"If ye are done gossiping, ladies," Manus said, "Jonathan is signaling us to go in."
Mora looked toward the doors to the hall. Jonathan stood there angrily signaling them to come along. She did not know what he had to be angry about. She was the one who faced hanging for lies told by Robert.
"Does he expect me to run over there just to hear the laird condemn me?" she muttered.
"Probably." Manus started walking and she hurried along with him. "Mon is so proud of his new station and fears any mistake will lose him the post."
Mora took a deep breath to steady herself as they walked through the doors.
Sigimor reined in when the Ogilvy keep came into view. Harcourt and Gybbon reined in on either side of him and Mora's brothers reined in beside Gybbon. "Sigimor, why are we just staring at the keep?"
"Weel, Gybbon, I think ye have kenned me long enough to ken I dinnae just storm a place. I have to think on it and plot the best approach."
"I would wager that hurts. Why make your head ache before a battle?" drawled Harcourt.