Amanda Scott (20 page)

Rory’s face was whiter than ever around the horrible bruises as he fixed his gaze on Sorcha and muttered, “Sorry, m’lady.”

“Sakes, I’m just glad you aren’t dead!” she exclaimed. “When I first saw you, I was as sure as I could be that you were. Whatever happened to you?”

“Not here, lass, and not now,” Hugo said. “We’ll get him on his feet first and see if he’s fit to go on with us.”

“I’m fit, sir, though ’tis likely ye’ll be ripe t’ flog me,” Rory said miserably.

“What did they give you?” Hugo asked.

“A rare beating first of all, then summat bitter to drink. I dinna ken aught about what happened after that. Next thing, I were here and ye were a-holding me.”

“Were they ordinary brigands or otherwise?”

“They’d ha’ been the ones we be following,” Rory said. “Leastwise, they said I were one o’ the men following
them
, so they must ha’ been.”

“All right, let’s see if you can stand up,” Hugo said.

Sorcha wanted to insist that they let him recover before they made him move about, because she was afraid Hugo did mean to punish him for leaving the camp. That he had not reassured him suggested that Rory was right to be fearful.

She knew better than to question Hugo in front of his men, but she could not let him hurt Rory more than Waldron’s men already had. He was clearly in pain, because he could hardly stand, even with Hugo propping him up.

To stall for time, she held out the silver chaplet so Rory could see it, and said, “How came you by this?”

Hugo frowned, but he did not say Rory should not answer.

Rory looked bewildered. “I didna come by it, m’lady. I never saw it afore.”

“ ’Tis likely they put it on his head after they’d tied him, and after whatever they gave him had already rendered him unconscious,” Hugo said.

“Sakes, sir,” she said, “what manner of men are they that they could have such a potion with them?”

“I’ve told you, lass, we must assume they are capable of anything.”

Sorcha shivered but said nothing more, bending to pick up the jug as Einar moved to Rory’s other side. Between them, he and Hugo helped him walk back to where the others waited with the horses. Rory’s pony was nowhere in sight, so she was glad Hugo’s men had brought extra mounts.

Hugo scanned the nearby area. “We’ll make for that thicket yonder,” he said, pointing to a grove of trees a quarter of a mile from the road. “We can rest for an hour
and have our midday meal. The lad should be able to ride by then. I’ll put him up with one of you other men for now and perhaps later, too, unless he feels stronger after he eats.”

“He can ride wi’ me, sir,” Einar said. “The pair o’ us willna tax a horse as much as it would did the lad ride wi’ one o’ them other great louts.”

The man who had helped unbind Rory had been following them, and Hugo turned the lad over to both of them.

Then, to Sorcha, he said, “Come, lass, I’ll help you mount.”

She hesitated, glancing about to be sure the other men and Sidony were not close enough to hear. Then she said quietly, “You won’t flog him, will you?”

“He disobeyed me,” Hugo replied just as quietly. “I’ll have some things to say to him that he will not like hearing, because I want to make certain he won’t do such a thing again, but I won’t do more.”

“Thank you,” she said with relief as she turned toward her horse.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t mistake me,” he said when she looked back at him. “I am not sparing him to please you. I may need him, and he won’t be of any use if he cannot recover quickly from his injuries. My men know me well, and they will understand that. I mean to make sure that Rory does, too.”

Sorcha was silent, knowing he meant to make sure she understood as well. Then, realizing he was waiting for some sort of response, she nodded.

Satisfied, he released her and, putting a hand to her shoulder instead, kept it there as they walked to her horse.
Still silent, he lifted her to its back, steadied the animal while she gathered the reins and settled herself, and then strode to his own mount and swung himself onto the saddle.

The ride to the thicket took only minutes, and once there, the men prepared a hasty repast. By the time they had eaten, Sorcha thought Rory looked more alert and moved with greater ease. She kept a close watch on Hugo, though, and saw that he watched the lad nearly as closely as she did. She hoped Rory’s quick recovery would not lead him to change his mind about punishing him.

When Hugo finished his meal and stood, then walked toward Rory, Sorcha quickly followed, determined to be near enough to intervene if necessary.

Hugo cast her a quick, measuring glance but made no objection. Squatting to his heels beside Rory, he said, “We’ll talk some now before we ride on.”

“Aye, sir,” the lad replied, eyeing him warily.

Sorcha opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Hugo held up a hand and said, “If you want to stay, you may, but only if you do not speak.”

Shutting her mouth, she nodded.

“Now,” he said to Rory, “I want you to tell me everything that happened to you. Begin with how and why you slipped away.”

Rory swallowed hard, visibly frightened about making such a confession. But after a brief silence, he said, “I heard ye tell them three they might come upon signs o’ her ladyship’s abductors, so when they went to get horses, I followed, ’cause Lady Sidony be worrying so about the lady Adela, and I thought I could learn summat.
One man guarding the horses did ask what I were about, but them three had mounted, so I… I told him ye’d said I were to go wi’ them.”

“I see,” Hugo said in a tone that neither Sorcha nor Rory could mistake for anything but strong disapproval, but all he added was, “What then?”

Swallowing again, not taking his eyes off Hugo, Rory said, “I followed them easy, sir, on account o’ the moon being so bright. Whilst the road wound amongst them hills beyond the loch, I didna fear them seeing me, but when it straightened, I feared one might look back, so I lagged back more. I dinna ken how long we rode, but I were passing one o’ them patches o’ forest and… and the woods closed in to the road on both sides o’ me till the place seemed fair haunted, so I’d kicked me pony to catch them up a bit when five horsemen rode out and surrounded me.”

“Five?”

“Aye, sir, and they seemed t’ ken who I were, too. One o’ them told their leader I were your man.”

“He named me?”

“Aye, sir.”

“What manner of man was their leader?”

Rory looked thoughtful, then said, “About the size o’ Einar Logan, mayhap not quite so tall but lanky and tough-talking—younger than what Einar be wi’ light hair and a big nose as sticks out like a hawk’s beak.”

“You use your eyes well,” Hugo said. “What else did you see?”

“Nobbut them, sir,” Rory said. “They pulled me off me horse into the woods, where the hawk’s-beak one said t’ tell them all I could o’ your men and your plan. When I
said I kent naught o’ such things, being I’d only just met ye all yestermorn, he said he’d ha’ to teach me a lesson. He ordered his men t’ beat me wi’ their fists. Then they asked me again, but I had nowt to say but what I’d said afore, so they forced me to drink some nasty stuff that the hawk’s-beak one carried in a wee vial in his pouch. After that, I were as I were till ye woke me. Me cousin’s going to be gey wroth wi’ me for losing his pony,” he added with a grimace.

“Did they say anything else that you recall?”

“Nobbut what I said, sir, just wanting t’ ken what I could say o’ plans and such.” He frowned in a puzzled way, then added, “Wait, though. One o’ them did say Lord Waldron wouldna be pleased that I kent so little.”

Hearing Hugo release a quick breath, Sorcha glanced at him, but he still watched Rory intently. When the lad made no further comment, he murmured, “Anything else? Anything at all? What is the last thing that you recall?”

Rory squinted as if by doing so he could squeeze more out of his memory.

Sorcha wanted to tell Hugo it was enough that he could name Waldron. But she was afraid he’d send her away, and she wanted to hear everything they said.

At last, Rory said, “There do be one wee thing, sir. I dinna ken when I heard it, or even if I did, but the word Ratho came to me. I ken naught o’ what it means. Sakes, I canna even say I didna dream it.”

“You’ve done well to recall as much as you have,” Hugo said.

Sorcha had looked at Hugo the moment Rory said the odd word, and had seen that it meant something to him.

So when he turned casually to her and said, “You may leave us now, lass,” she shot him a mutinous look.

“I would know more of this Ratho, sir,” she said.

“I doubt that it means much,” he said.

“Nevertheless—”

“That will do,” he said curtly. “I have some things to say to this lad now, and he will not thank you for staying to hear them.”

Rory looked miserable again, but Sorcha knew she could not help him. She could only trust Hugo to keep his word. Accordingly, she turned without another word and went to join the others.

Hugo and Rory soon joined them, and at a gesture from Hugo, Rory limped to Einar Logan, who helped him mount. Whatever Hugo had said to the lad had left him looking wretched, so when Sidony suggested that she and Sorcha might ride beside him and Einar, Sorcha shook her head.

“He would not thank us for our sympathy,” she said. “Nor would he want us to fuss over him like anxious nursemaids. However, I do want to have a word with Sir Hugo, dearling, so if you want to ride beside Rory for a short time, you should do so now, but only if you can promise not to talk of his injuries or his ordeal.”

Sidony agreed, and Sorcha watched to be sure that neither Rory nor Einar would object to her riding alongside them before she kicked her own pony and urged it on to where Sir Hugo rode in the lead.

“You should hang back amidst the others, lass,” he said when she guided her mount up beside his. “You are too much exposed here for my liking.”

“You have already said that no one will attack us so
close to Stirling, sir,” she said. “We’ll be there shortly. And in any event, I want to talk to you.”

“Ratho,” he said, smiling at her and thus giving her a more encouraging reaction than she had expected.

“Just so,” she said, returning the smile. “I know you recognized the word. What is it? Some sort of password or secret place?”

“You have a vivid imagination,” he said. “Ratho is just a village.”

“Between here and Edinburgh?”

“Nay, it lies southeast of Linlithgow near the Glasgow road.”

“Then we must go straight on there from Linlithgow,” she said. “Indeed, if it is not too far, we should strive to reach Ratho tonight. They must be going there if Rory heard them mention it.”

“More likely, they mentioned it to put us off their track,” he said. “Edgelaw, which is Waldron’s seat, lies likewise to the southeast. But he will more likely ride cross-country through the hills than pass through Ratho. As you have doubtless noted, he avoids most places of habitation.”

“I thought he was going to Edinburgh.”

“He’ll go where he pleases,” he said. “I’m guessing the reason his men mentioned Ratho in the lad’s hearing was to put us off the track so we don’t catch up with him until he is ready for us. We’ve followed them with surprising ease, you know. If he had not wanted us to know where he was taking your sister, we’d not have heard a whisper about him or his men after they’d abducted her.”

“Faith, sir, I do not think it is surprising that we were able to follow them. You know as well as I do how
quickly news flies around the Highlands. Someone would have heard or seen enough to tell us their direction.”

“Not if Waldron had not wished it,” Hugo said.

“But they had to follow beaten tracks to avoid getting lost,” she insisted.

“Waldron has no need of tracks to find his way. Had he desired secrecy, no Highlander would have seen him and lived to tell anyone else.”

“Sakes, would he kill a man just for catching sight of him?”

“He would if he wanted to preserve secrecy.”

“But you cannot be certain he does
not
mean to go to Ratho.”

“I am certain he can have only one reason to have let Rory hear the name Ratho,” Hugo said. “And that is because he wants us to go there. So we will not.”

Instinct told her he was holding something back.

“You promised you would share any information you acquired about my sister’s whereabouts, sir. And since she is with Waldron…”

“In fact, lass, my promise was to share information I acquired about the lad’s whereabouts,” he said, calmly meeting her challenging gaze.

“Aye, well, there is something you are not telling me about this village. I want to know what it is.”

He shook his head. “Ratho is just a village.”

“There
is
something,” she insisted.

Hugo grimaced. He had hoped this moment would delay itself until they had made camp for the evening.
However, he already knew her well enough to be sure she would not let the subject drop merely because he asked her to.

His thoughts leaped to the two most likely reasons Waldron had let slip the name Ratho. Either he was laying a trap or he meant to misdirect them. From that thought followed Hugo’s instant awareness that he could waste no more time before getting Sorcha and Sidony out of harm’s way.