Chapter 4

4

D ougie Prentice was not the kind of second-in-command who meekly followed his superior officer's orders. He offered his own opinions and sometimes contradicted Murdoch, although he never disobeyed him. The two of them made a good team and were firm friends despite the difference in their ranks. As well as that, the fact that they were both tall and handsome men made them very popular with the ladies. This helped their work, too, since the women were favorably disposed toward them and could unwittingly be a good source of intelligence.

Now, as they sat down in the tavern, cups of ale were delivered by a smiling bar lady before their backsides had even touched their seats.

"Thank you, Mary," Murdoch said, smiling at the young woman as he dropped a penny into her hand. "I am so thirsty today, and I must say that the ale at this inn is the best in the whole district."

"Thank ye, sir," she replied. "Every little bit helps when ye have so many mouths tae feed!"

Mary was twenty-one years old and had five children, including a set of twin boys. Her life was extremely hard, and although a penny was not much, it would buy a meal for the family.

"Maybe when they are a little older I can try to get jobs at the castle for the little ones," Murdoch offered.

He felt infinitely sorry for her, but there were so many families in the same position, and he could not help all of them. Mary was better off than most because she actually had a job. He sighed as he watched her.

"Thank ye, sir, but that is a long while away," Mary observed, smiling at them.

"You know, I would marry all the women in the valley if I thought it would help," Murdoch remarked. "They do it in Persia."

"I don't think it would catch on in Scotland," Dougie remarked, laughing. Then he grew solemn. "Why does the laird make life so bloody hard for them? It is just not fair, Murdoch!" He thumped a fist on the table.

Murdoch sighed and took a draft of his ale. "Life is not fair, Dougie."

They sat in silence for a while, each with his own thoughts, then Dougie spoke again. "We need a plan," he observed. "We cannot just sit an' wait for somethin' tae happen."

"We could ask every single person for miles around," Murdoch suggested grimly, "but that would take ages, and we would need many more men."

"We could torture them," Dougie suggested, grinning.

"No," Murdoch laughed. "Some of them would likely enjoy it!"

They sat for a long time throwing ideas back and forth, but none seemed to be without its drawbacks. If there was an ambush, attacking the ambushers would cause absolute chaos, and they could not be sure that innocent people would not be hurt.

"I have an idea," Dougie said at last, after they had finished three goblets of ale. "Could you no' ask Lady Keira tae speak to the people on our behalf?"

"But the laird has already sent us out to find the upstarts who are doing this," he pointed out. "What good could his daughter do?"

Dougie leaned closer to him. "We need tae ask for more help, an' if we appeal to the lady herself, she might be inclined tae help us. I hear she is a kind woman. Many o' the tenants are barely survivin', an' I think she would be glad tae help."

Murdoch thought for a moment. "I think that might work, Dougie," he said admiringly. "Good thinking. More ale?"

Dougie shook his head. "This is strong stuff," he answered. "I might no' be able tae stand up soon!"

The next day, just after breakfast, Keira knocked on the door of Adaira's chamber. The young woman opened it slowly, peeping around the edge to see who was on the other side. When she saw Keira, she gave a deep sigh of relief and opened the door wide.

Keira looked around her with pleasure, as she always did when entering Adaira's room. Her father had not, at least, stinted on the decor in his wife's chamber. The room had a high ceiling with beautifully sculpted cornices, a chandelier with an ornate ceiling rose in the middle and half-paneled walls of pale oak. There were small tables dotted around the chamber, each with a silver candelabra or a vase of spring flowers on it.

The dressing table was also ornately carved, its shining mahogany surface polished to perfection, its mirror gleaming. Two satin-covered armchairs sat before the fire with its gorgeously carved mahogany fireplace and marble mantel.

The armoire was also made of mahogany, as was the bed, which was very feminine, with a pale yellow satin brocade and canopy and a floral quilt and coverlet. Sprinkled all over the floor were jewel-colored rugs, which brought even more brightness to the chamber.

"I don't think I have ever seen such a beautiful room," Keira mused.

"It is my sanctuary," Adaira confessed, sighing. "Whenever your father wants to make love to me, I have to go to his room so that I do not feel his presence here at all."

Keira gazed at Adaira pityingly. "Is it so bad?" she asked gently.

Adaira nodded. "You cannot imagine," she said sadly. Then she perked herself up. "Would you like some mulled wine? My maid has just fetched some."

"Always!" Keira laughed.

She watched Adaira as she fetched it, noting her long, elegant hands and the perfect lines of her face, which looked like the statue of a Madonna. Her figure, too, was womanly, curved in all the right places and in perfect proportions. It made Keira furious to think that such a kind and lovely person should be wasted on a tyrant like her father.

"Thank you," Keira said as Adaira handed her the goblet of wine, then sat down opposite her.

"I take it you have come to discuss what we talked about a few days ago?" Adaira asked hopefully. She leaned forward toward Adaira, her dark eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Keira, tell me you have formed a plan to help me escape from this place!"

"I need you to promise me something." Keira's voice was firm and insistent.

"Anything!" Adaira was desperate. "Anything at all." Her hands were clasped so tightly together that her knuckles showed white beneath her skin.

"I need you to promise that whatever I say to you will not leave this room." Keira took Adaira's hands and squeezed them gently. "Not a word to anyone. I must have your word."

"You have it," Adaira replied. "I know you are a woman of honor, and I trust you."

Her tone was sincere, and Keira had no doubt that she was telling the truth.

"Thank you," Keira said, smiling. "First of all, Adaira, I must tell you that I am not what I seem to be. I am not merely the wealthy daughter of a laird, to be married to the first man my father thinks is fit for me. I am the leader of a band of rebels who are determined to unseat my father."

Adaira looked shocked at first, and then she laughed. "That is incredible!" she cried. "So you are working against my husband. Who else is with you?"

"One thing at a time, Addie." Keira took a sip of her wine and paused for a moment, calling back the memory of the awful events of the last time she had seen her mother. "I have to tell you a story first, but I think I will need more wine."

Once the wine was in her hands, Keira began to tell the story of the horrific night her mother had died. When she had finished, there were tears streaming down her face and dripping into her wine. Relating the events to Adaira had brought back the whole jumble of emotions that had beset her that night. She had felt fear that her father would kill her too, and fear for her mother's safety. There was horror at Malcolm's untimely and unnecessary death, but above all, hatred for her father and a bitter anger that had lasted until the present day and still persisted.

Adaira moved to sit beside Keira and put her arm around her shoulders, then she held her close while rocking her like a baby. To Keira, the warmth and closeness of another human being was the balm she needed to soothe her loneliness and hurt. As her sobbing slowly abated, she was almost reluctant to leave Adaira's embrace.

However, she drew away at last, wiped away her tears, and sighed, then tried to smile. "Do you feel better now?" Adaira asked gently.

Keira nodded. "Thank you, Addie. I am sorry for being such a baby."

"You were not being a baby," Adaira assured her. "I don't know how you stayed sane all these years. I have always admired you, Keira, but I admire you even more now thinking of the burden you have had to carry. I hate your father even more now, and I will do whatever it takes to get out of this place and away from him.

"Now, I will have our supper sent up here, and we can talk further and make some plans. I cannot wait to get started!" Adaira was almost bursting with excitement.

Keira was amazed to see the unashamed malice in Adaira's eyes. She hated him just as much as Keira did, and while the rebels did what they knew had to be done, and no more, it looked as though Adaira was going to enjoy it very much.

"First things first then," Keira announced. "You must find yourself a suit of boy clothes."

"Boy clothes?" Adaira was mystified. "Why?"

"Because we cannot go out dressed like the ladies we are," Keira answered. "We are obviously not farmers' wives or field hands. We have to be something completely different. I chose boy…or, rather, young men's clothes because I can lay my hands on quite a few that are almost worn out. From a distance we can pass muster, although I would not risk a close look."

"Do your men know you are a woman?"Adaira asked.

"Yes, they do," she replied. "They are very respectful, though."

Adaira chuckled softly. "You are amazing, Keira," she remarked. "How long has this been going on?"

"Four years," Keira answered. "It all began a few years after all the terrible things my father had done. I was absolutely in pieces, and for a while I could not function properly. Then they contacted me, and as it happened, I was able to help them. Well, we helped each other."

She told Adaira the story of her induction into the company of rebels and how she soon became its leader while the young woman stared at her in admiration.

"And all this was going on under my nose!" Adaira marveled. "Tell me how you laid hands on the boy clothes?"

Keira chuckled. "Moira, my maid, has four sons, and they all grow out of their clothes and are passed on to the next son. I picked out the old ones that I needed and paid her for them, and you have no idea how delighted she was!"

"Can you do the same for me?" Adaira asked eagerly.

"I can try, and I am sure we will sort you out with something, whatever it takes." Keira smiled at her.

"This is really happening," Adaira said incredulously. "You know, Keira, I feel better already. I know that whatever he does or says that there will soon be an end to it." Her smile was radiant.

"I think you are going to make a good addition to our band." Keira was smiling happily.

Adaira clapped her hands. "So when is our next meeting?" she asked eagerly. "I cannot wait to meet everyone!"

"They are equally eager to meet you too," Keira assured her. "We have not decided on the next meeting yet, but you will be the first to know, and in the meantime you can make yourself ready."

"Where do you meet?" Adaira asked.

"You do not have to know that until the day it takes place," Keira replied. Seeing Adaira's disappointment, she added, "It is safer that way, Addie."

Just then, a maid came in with a tray bearing their evening meal.

"No more talking!" Adaira ordered. Then she laughed and held up her ale glass. "Sláinte Mhath!" she cried. "To rebellion!"

"Rebellion! Sláinte Mhath!" Keira cried. "And to us!"