Chapter 91

Màiri closed her eye and settled into an uneasy sleep. Ailene got up and started pacing the kitchen again. Stuart and all the Cameron's would need to be told as soon as they woke. She was unsure what could be done about this, but knew something had to be done. Blackthorne could not get away with this. He could not; and she would find some way to stop him. No matter how rich and powerful he was or who his friends were, there had to be a way.

Màiri seemed to be resting easier now; she wasn't stirring as she did before. In fact, she didn't seem to be moving at all. Her chest wasn't rising and falling at all. Ailene rushed over to her, putting her ears next to her lips to see if she could hear a breath, then on her ruined chest to see if she could detect a heart beat. Nothing. She shook her shoulders and her body was totally limp, almost boneless. Màiri had been right; Death had been waiting nearby. She gently and reverently covered her face with the cloak, laid her head down on the still form and burst into tears, sobbing so hard the sleeping guard woke up.

He got to his feet and crept up to see the poor girl's face covered and Lady Cameron crying unconsolably.

"You did the best you could, milady. I'm surprised she was alive at all." He patted her shoulder.

Ailene turned to him and clung to his waist, her head on his stomach, sobbing wildly.

"It's my fault," she said. "I'm to blame for this. I sent Màiri away."

He didn't know what to do. Stuart Cameron's wife was hugging him fiercely, her head at his waist. He didn't know what to do with his hands. Should he pat her head? Hug her back? What? What if the Cameron's entered the kitchen now? The cook was sure to come and start cooking for breakfast soon. If she should see Lady Cameron with her head at his waist, what would she think? There had to be some way this could look better than it did. He started to kneel. At least if her head were at the level of his shoulders, it would look better than it did now. By kneeling, he forced her to release her hold on his waist. She moved her arms to his shoulders where she continued to hug him, crying in misery, her head on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault," he said. "Not unless it was you tortured the poor lass. We all know you regretted your decision, sent people out looking for her, cared for her family. Lord Stuart was right. Blame the bastard who did this to her. They're the ones should pay."

And pay he would. If it was the last thing she ever did in her life, she'd see Blackthorne die like the animal he was.

Thorburn and Stuart came down in the morning, still expecting to find Ailene hovering over the poor girl. Instead, the guardsman who found her was standing over her body, a cloak covering her still form. The cook and two assistants were working on breakfast. Thorburn turned back the cloak to look once again upon her ravaged face, remembering it for when he met the person who'd done such a thing to her.

"She died then?" Thorburn asked.

"Aye, about two hours ago, Laird," he replied. "Lady Ailene asked me to stand watch over her body until you woke up to take charge of it."

"Where's my wife now?" Stuart asked.

"She said she was going to the training grounds, my Lord."

"You can seek your rest now, lad. We'll see to the wee lass," Thorburn said. "Thanks for looking after her."

"Aye, Lord Cameron."

Thorburn directed two of the guardsmen showing up for breakfast to carry her body to the chapel. After seeing his orders carried out, Thorburn and Stuart went outside to the training ground. They found Ailene, still dressed in her night clothes, lunging and thrusting again and again against Frang's practice post, a hole about an inch deep already gouged in the wood. They looked at each other, both noticing the bloodied sword hilt from blisters having formed and burst on her hand, and still she kept stabbing the post.

Both of them went to her and put their arms around her, holding her still as she broke into huge, heart wrenching sobs.

"Easy, lass," Thorburn said. "Did she ever regain consciousness before she passed?"

"Aye, she did," Ailene said between huge, gasping sobs. "Twas Màiri, as expected. She said Blackthorne was the one tortured her before she died. I want to kill that bloody monster so much. She told me he bragged of killing your father, Jamison. Poisoning him slowly so it would look like he was ill; put in his evening milk. "

"The cook?" Thorburn asked, his face red with anger.

"Nay, some servant now dead. He left here after he'd done the deed. Blackthorne killed him afterward so he couldn't talk, according to Màiri."

Stuart thought of the people who would have had access to Jamison who were now gone from the Keep.

"The old man who brought him his warm milk at bedtime!" Stuart exclaimed.

"Did she say why Blackthorne tortured her?" Thorburn asked.

"She said he was constantly asking about all of us and the Keep's defenses," Ailene replied.

"Why did she not tell him anything he wanted to know?" Stuart wondered. "She could not tell him anything to help him."

"She did. She told him all she knew. Started making up stuff when he demanded more. She thinks he mostly tortured her because he likes it. Liked to hear her scream, was the way she put it. I want him dead. He's the devil incarnate and he deserves to die," Ailene said. "She said he would do worse to me if he ever got hold of me. He hates us all with a passion, every one of the Cameron's, but apparently the women most of all."

"What have we ever done to him to deserve such enmity, particularly you? You weren't even here when this thing started," Stuart wondered. "That's a hate far deeper than just wanting our land."

"She didn't know. She said she was released yesterday by a woman, one she didn't know. Never met her before finding herself in his dungeon. Thought she might have had red hair but it was hard to tell in the dimness of his dungeon."

"Never have I heard of such brutality," Thorburn opined. "Tis a foul thing for certain. We shall discuss this with the magistrate in Dervaig."

"Should we keep her body to bring with us," Ailene asked, "to show him what a monster Blackthorne is?"

"Though it might be best, I think we need to let her family know. They should decide, and not us," Thorburn replied. "I'll send out a dozen riders right now to inform them. They may wish to take charge of her body. I'll go with to speak to the family."

"Frang and Isobel need to be informed as well," Stuart said, "both because they deserve to know what happened and to stress how careful they must remain given the extent Blackthorne has shown he's willing to go."

"Aye, I'll send another dozen riders his way," Thorburn said.

"Send two dozen," Ailene said. "I intend to go with them, with your permission, Stuart."

"Why?" Stuart asked.

"To complete my training with Frang. I must to ever feel safe again. Unless I can defend myself, I'm at risk if these are the lengths to which he'll go."

"She's right, Stuart," Thorburn said. "All of our women need to become better trained. It appears Blackthorne detests the women more even than us. I would like to see them give a good account of themselves if Blackthorne tries to take them. At the very least, the kidnappers may be forced to slay them rather than capture them. They'd be better off dead than suffering the torments of the damned with him."

"Fuck. I hate to see her leave the Keep. Can't Frang and Isobel both return here for their training. I hate for her to be gone. She's much better protected here."

"Frang has responsibilities to his own people now. I'm not sure he can afford to ignore his own lands for the length of time this may take to be resolved. We can discuss it with him on Market Day."

"We can't be sure if Blackthorne has more spies here. If Jamison could be poisoned, we're all at some risk, husband. You can leave some additional trustworthy men with Frang if you're fearful, though I'm sure Bjarkë will soon have Frang's men well trained. Until Blackthorne's gone, we're all at risk."

"Aye, I suppose you're right. I shall miss you wife. It will be the first time we've been apart." He took her hands in his, rubbing his thumb gently over the torn flesh. She flinched but made no sound. "If you're going to go, stop now and put some of your medicine on these. I suggest you wear gloves if you're going to train this hard."

She plastered herself against him, laying her head against his broad chest. "I'll miss you too, Stuart. More than you know."

"Besides, you're still in your night clothes," Stuart said.

Ailene backed from him and looked down. Her robe was loose and her breasts were faintly visible beneath the sweat stained night dress. She pulled the robe tight and sashed it around her waist.

"Tis a good thing I was the only one on the training ground. I look a mess don't I?"

"But never more beautiful to me. Your anger is righteous and your passion profound. I'm glad it's not directed at me." He kissed her.

She left for her room, a quick pat on her bottom a parting shot from Stuart. Ailene made a detour to the kitchen to grab some of the medicines she'd used on Màiri the previous night, and a crust of bread, finding herself famished. A few quick words to the cook about the midday meal, telling her to speak to Muiríol about further cooking arrangements as she would be departing for Lady Luck Farms for an undetermined length of time.

"Is the Lady Isobel having a difficult pregnancy, my Lady?"

"Not to my knowledge. I'm going for a different purpose."

"Yes, my Lady."