Flame (38 page)

“Is that why you were so brutal with me on
the day we went to the abbey?”

Gavin stopped and, grabbing her tightly
around the waist, he drew her slender body to his. “I don’t think
making love on the side of a mountain is...”

“I didn’t mean that,” she said quickly.
“I...before that...You are a rogue, Gavin Kerr.”

“And are you still considering going through
with it?”

She shook her head. “Nay, I cannot! I have
already undone all of that. After hearing the truth of Mater and my
grandsire, I just cannot imagine bringing any more harm to her.
Guilty or not guilty, I just could not go through it.”

He stopped and kissed her mouth with a
passion so fierce it left her breathless.

“I love you, Joanna,” he whispered. “But I
must tell you now that if we find that Mater is the murderer, we
will bring her to justice, no matter what she has suffered.”

Joanna stared back at him. “Then I’ll pray
that she is not guilty.”

When Gavin pulled open the heavy oak door,
the stench that greeted them brought bile to Joanna’s throat.

Revolted, she stood at the entrance as he
stepped into the chamber. The room smelled of dead and rotted
flesh. Not far from her foot lay the headless corpse of a sheep.
Staying where she was, Joanna shot a glance at Gavin.

He looked back at her. “To think you spent
the winter in the tower room when, all the time, you could have
been here!”

“Stay where you are, Gavin,” she said
shakily, staring past him.

The floor at the far end of the room seemed
to be moving. Gavin turned and raised his torch high in the air,
and she saw him flinch and back up a step at the sight.

Joanna moved beside him, and looked up into
his face. He was as pale as the full moon. “What is it?”

“Rats,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
She watched him draw out his dagger. “I hate rats!”

“You walk happily into a slaughterhouse, but
you are afraid of a wee bit of a thing like a rat?”

“‘Tis not one wee bit of a thing. Look, there
must be hundreds of them! And I am
not
afraid,” he said
threateningly. “I
hate
them!”

“Same thing,” she murmured teasingly,
lowering her torch and waving it, sending the vermin skittering
into cracks and along the walls.

He growled at her.

Joanna surveyed with disgust the piles of
rotting animal corpses. Chickens, sheep, dogs, what looked like a
cow. “What...what is this place?”

“A butchery, I should think. But from all the
old meat rotting on these bones, I do not believe this killing was
done to feed any hungry mouths.”

“I’ve no desire to stay here, Gavin,” she
said, panic prickling down her back.

“Nay,” he agreed. “Nor do I.”

Joanna turned back toward the heavy oak door.
“But why someone would use a room like this so far beneath the
ground for butchering? Why...?” The words withered on her lips.

“What is it, Joanna?”

“The cup!” She pointed at the ornate cup
sitting on a small wooden table. “This is the cup!”

“What cup?” he asked taking a step at her
direction but then pausing as a rat ran across the floor in front
of him.

“This is the cup that I have seen Mater use
every full moon.”

He reached down and picked up the ornate
piece, looking at it in the light of his torch.

“During their ceremony, Mater pours some
liquid from this cup into the fire.”

Gavin turned and gazed inside the empty cup.
“Blood.”

“They use this chamber for killing.” She
stepped back and glanced down the tunnel into the darkness before
turning back to him. “We are not too far from the crypt. All the
times I have passed this way, I never knew of this room. I never
smelled these rotting animals.”

“Well, I, for one, am happy that they use
only animals,” Gavin said, looking with curiosity at the bones and
huge pile of assorted cadavers. “I have heard stories of some of
the old religions that used other sacrifices as part of their
ritual.”

A cold breeze suddenly sent a chill down
Joanna’s back. She shivered uncomfortably and glanced back over her
shoulder.

“Please, Gavin, put the cup back,” she
pleaded. “Let us leave this horrible place.”

“Afraid?”

“I am not letting you taunt me,” she
whispered urgently taking him by the arm. “We’ve seen too much
already for one night. Let’s be on our way, tomorrow is soon
enough!”

“Aye, it certainly is!” He placed the cup
back on the stone bench and straightened. “Tomorrow is the full
moon.”

“The full moon,” she repeated numbly. “Mater
has asked me to join them at their gathering.”

Gavin took hold of her hand and started to
lead her from the room.

“You have nothing to say about that? You’re
not objecting? You’re not asking me to stay away?”

“Nay, I think you should go. In fact, I’ll be
there myself to keep an eye on you.”

“You?” She looked at him incredulously.
“There is no way you can be there and go unnoticed.”

“You watched them for months,” he said
calmly. “Surely a wee bit of a thing like myself could manage to
remain hidden for
one
night.”

***

The warm caress of the breeze on her cold
face awoke the mute woman.

Margaret opened her eyes and stared into the
darkness of the windowless room. Throwing off the blanket that
covered her, she sat up on the bedding and let the air swirl about
her.

It was the full moon, she remembered, coming
slowly to her feet. It was the time of the cleansing, and there was
so much to do.

With her hands outstretched, she moved along
the wall to the panel door and opened it wide. She took a deep
breath and stepped into the passageway. She needed no light. She
simply followed the wind.

It was the full moon, and there was so much
to do.

***

The sun was already sinking in the western
sky when Joanna woke up with a start from her restless sleep.
Sitting up groggily, she gazed at the long shards of golden
sunlight stretching across her bed and tried to remember where she
was.

A sudden panic struck her as the realization
sank in that she must have fallen asleep. She looked at the
windows, and realized that she had slept the entire afternoon away.
When she lay down, she’d only intended to rest for a few
moments.

As Joanna sat there, her dreams began to come
back to her. All during her sleep, the images of what they’d seen
beneath the castle had played in her mind. Slaughtered animals, a
cup full of blood, dark walls closing in on them, with no way of
escape.

Suddenly, remembering the reason for her
worry, Joanna pushed the covers off of her and quickly came to her
feet.

Tonight was the night of the full moon.

She wasn’t certain if Gavin had truly meant
to hide and witness the gathering of women. But if so, she needed
to talk him out of it. The idea of him being down there amongst
those who thought every man was an instrument of evil made her
stomach queasy.

She had to protect him. Despite all his
strength, he was no match for the power of their belief.

Quickly dressing, Joanna opened the door and,
giving a nod to the warrior outside, started for the Great Hall.
The growling of her stomach reminded her that she had eaten nothing
since last night. Knowing that it was a long time until supper, she
turned her steps toward the kitchens instead.

The shaggy hound Max greeted her in the
corridor by the door of the kitchen. After giving his head an
affectionate pat, Joanna stepped into the warm kitchen.

“Out! Out, you filthy cur!”

Joanna stopped dead in her tracks as the
heavyset cook, Gibby, rushed toward her, wielding a huge wooden
spoon like a broadsword.

“I...” the young woman began.

“Pardon, m’lady,” Gibby said, forging past
her. “Out, you thieving, good-for-nothing charmer.”

With his tail tucked between his legs, Max
scurried back toward the doorway and out of the cook’s reach.

“Aye, you’d best stay away from me, you
lazy...” Gibby turned back to the young woman, her face still red
and her voice gruff. “Welcome, mistress. Are you needing
something?”

“I know ‘tis late,” Joanna began, feeling
suddenly as timid as the dog in the face of this woman who ran her
kitchens with the same show of authority as Gavin ran his men. “But
I had hoped...”

“Come and sit on this bench here,” Gibby
ordered abruptly, waving to a seat beside the large worktable.
Turning a sharp eye to the kitchen staff, she barked, “Back to your
work, you lazy imps, or there’ll be no supper for any of you!”

Joanna did as she was told.

“Tis like having a troop of fairy folk
working for you,” the cook grumped as she moved to the side of the
huge hearth and drew a platter of food covered with a linen cloth
from a warming niche. Bringing it back to Joanna, she placed it
before the young woman. “I knew you would be starved,
mistress.”

Joanna stared at the wonderful selection of
bread and meat. The sweet aroma of the food filled her with
contentment. “Gibby, this is far more than I ever could eat.”

“Just do your best,” the woman said with a
wave of her hand, taking a seat on a solid stool beside the cooking
fire. In front of her sat a bucketful of greens, and she continued
her work preparing the supper. “We have to make sure we put some
more meat back on your bones. Evan, turn that spit! If that side of
beef burns...You are too thin, mistress. Och, by the saints! Mary,
fetch a pitcher of wine for Mistress Joanna, and be quick about
it!”

Joanna just smiled in return. For all the
shouting, the boy turning the meat over the open fire did not
appear overly concerned with her threats, and Joanna even noticed
that several of the girl’s were exchanging covert looks of
amusement at the cook’s shouting. Starting on her food, Joanna
realized that even before the terrible fire, she had never spent
much time in this woman’s company. Although rough in her manners,
she could sense that the cook must have a gentle heart beneath. Her
trencher was nearly empty before the portly woman spoke again.

“‘Tis mighty decent of you to take care of
Margaret the way you have been.”

Joanna looked up into Gibby’s round face. “I
am...I was just surprised that the rest of the household was doing
nothing for her.”

“With her killing the priest, and with the
new laird being so angry...” The heavyset cook looked down at the
greens in her hand. “We just didn’t think ‘twas right to go against
his wishes.”

“There is something that you should know
about your laird.” As Gibby glanced up, Joanna looked her directly
in the eyes. “He is much different than any of those who have gone
before. And I am talking about my own kin as well. Gavin Kerr is a
very good and compassionate man. He is one who truly believes in
taking care of his people and in doing whatever needs to be done to
guard them against harm.”

“Your own father, mistress...”

“He was a good man, Gibby, but he had no
interest in being laird. He led too peaceful a life to be bothered
with the problems of running a castle and its lands. In truth, if
my father had been the one who discovered Margaret with a knife in
her hand and the chaplain dead, he would have had her hung that day
and been done with it. But look what Gavin Kerr has done. He waits
until she comes to her senses.” Joanna pushed the empty trencher
away. “And with Mater. I am certain ‘tis obvious to all of you how
much he respects Mater. Now my father, the best MacInnes laird of
any of them, thought her mad and never even once bothered to ride
over to the abbey or to look after them.”

The cook’s sudden pensiveness told Joanna
that she had struck a cord. Well, she thought, it was about time
these people started appreciating their new laird.

Coming to her feet, she smiled and nodded
gratefully toward the food. “Thank you, Gibby. ‘Twas very nice of
you to save a plate for me.”

As she turned toward the door, the quiet
words of the cook froze her steps. “Word has it that you’ll be
joining us tonight.”

Joanna turned slowly and faced the woman.
“Mater asked me to come. So I thought...I thought I might.”

“That will truly make Mater happy, mistress.
Of the whole year, tonight is the most special.”

“Special?” She swallowed. “Why, Gibby?”

“This is the anniversary, mistress!” the cook
replied in a hushed voice. “The night of cleansing! But I cannot
say more. I don’t want to spoil the night. You’ll see for
yourself.”

With a slow nod, Joanna turned and left the
kitchens from the room. Whatever was planned for this night, she
was certain it was something she’d not witnessed before.

And as much as Gavin hated rats, Joanna
MacInnes hated surprises.

The chamber whirled around his head, but
Gavin forced his eyes open, staggered to his feet once more, and
crashed into the wall by the window.

They’ve poisoned me
.

The thought burned through the haze of fever,
and Gavin realized that he was on the floor again. A cold sweat
soaked his skin, and the light in his bedchamber was growing
dimmer.

I’ll not die until I get to
Joanna
!

Gavin felt the pain rip through his belly,
and shoot like lightning into his brain.

I must warn her. I cannot let them kill me
yet
!

Half an hour earlier standing in the small
kirkyard, Gavin had felt the first cramps grip his insides like a
claw. Moving away from the men working on the MacInnes tombs, he
had escaped to his chamber. The food he’d taken in the Great Hall!
He hadn’t eaten from the same platter as Athol and the rest, he
remembered. Gavin had arrived late for the noon meal, and someone
had placed a trencher of food before him. Too occupied with his
talk with Athol, he hadn’t even looked back.