Chapter Six

I f ever he’d had a headache that bad, Knox could not remember it. With even the slightest movement, his head pounded from the temples to the back of his skull where the healer informed him there’d been an open gash that had to be sewn shut.

After slowly getting up from the bed and dressing in clothes that had been left out for him, he winced when having to bend over and put on his boots.

First stop would be the kitchen where he’d ask Cook for something for the pain, after he had to speak to Alexander who’d yet to come to see him.

Whatever the issue was at the bordering lands must have kept him occupied because according to Hendry, the laird had not returned until late the night before.

As he walked out into the corridor, Hendry appeared with a cup in his hand. “I was coming to bring ye this. It is for the pain.”

Relief flooded him as he reached for it. “Hopefully it will nae make me sleepy.” He drank the entire contents in three swallows and closed his eyes willing the headache to go away.

“Where are ye headed?” Hendry said taking the empty cup.

“I must speak to Alexander. The man who attacked Sencha and me is called Kyle. A fisherman. I believe he is related to the dead man, Fitz.”

Hendry nodded. “I ken of him. Do ye think he killed Fitz and that is why he attacked ye?”

“He said something to make me believe that he did. I must have caught him as he planned to flee or because he’d captured Sencha and didnae wish for me to find out.”

“Nonetheless, he tried to kill ye both and for that he must be punished.” Hendry turned on his heel and hurried away. The warrior would gather a group of men and head out to hunt for Kyle. There was no need to wait for the laird to order it.

Continuing past a door, he wondered if it was where Sencha was. He hoped to see her and speak to her, assure himself that she was better. Her face had been badly bruised, one eye almost swollen shut. Once they caught Kyle, he would ensure the bastard paid for what he did to the woman.

Just as he turned to knock on the door, a servant woman he’d once seduced came from the end of the corridor. Upon seeing him, she rushed to meet him. “Should ye be out of bed?”

Knox accepted her help, mainly because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to remain upright much longer as whatever Cook had concocted was making him feel dizzy.

“Poor dear, let me help ye to bed,” the woman insisted and turning with him to head back toward the room he’d just walked out of.

Sencha stood at the door, her eyes glued to where the servant was tucked under his arm.

“How do ye fare?” Knox asked leaning heavily on the woman beside him. “Yer swelling has lessened some.”

“I am fine,” Sencha replied, her voice still a hoarse whisper. With that she walked into the corridor and past them.

“Come ye are quite unsteady,” the servant prompted, urging him to continue toward the room.

Knox extricated himself from her and put a hand on the wall to steady himself. “Can ye find Alexander and tell him I must speak to him at once?”

“Aye,” she replied, her eyes taking him in as if expecting that he might fall at any moment.

“Go now.”

The woman hurried away, and Knox leaned against the wall weighing his options of whether he should try to make it to the great room or wait for Alexander in the bedchamber.

Sencha entered the great room scanning the area until she found her mother and aunt. Both sat at a table with Nala and the laird’s mother. There was tension in the room as the people waited for whatever the witnesses would say in favor or against her uncle.

Several people turned to look at her, their eyes glued to what she was sure was not a pretty sight. Although she’d not looked in a mirror, she’d felt her face and noted swelling and a lump on her jaw. Ignoring the stares, she went to the table where her mother sat and lowered to the bench.

Immediately someone placed a cup of ale, and a bowl filled with a thick soup, for her to break her fast. Despite the dread about what was going to happen, her stomach grumbled with expectation.

“Eat my darling.” Her mother reached for her hand. “At the moment, the laird is listening to another issue.”

She was surprised when a moment later, the servant who’d been helping Knox entered and hurried to the front of the room. Without waiting to be summoned forward, she neared the laird and whispered into his ear.

Alexander nodded and replied to the woman who then walked back heading in the direction she’d come. No doubt she’d delivered a message from Knox.

Sencha wondered if the servant and Knox had ever been romantically involved. The thought made her stomach clench. Unsure when it had happened, but her feelings for Knox had changed radically. No longer did she see him as a friend. When he’d become her family’s champion helping to find the truth and defending her uncle, she’d begun to see him in a different light.

Her attraction to him had always been there, as there was no denying that she’d always found him handsome. But it was his reputation as a rogue that had put her off.

Sencha was surprised that her bowl was empty, she’d eaten every bit whilst considering what would happen next with her uncle. She would step up and tell everyone about being attacked when she’d gone to the fishing village to find the lad who was a possible witness.

It was not proof of his guilt, but it certainly shed light on the possibility that the man who attacked her and Knox was the same man who killed the fisherman.

The boy who’d helped her the day before had to be the one she sought. She wished she’d asked the boy to come to the keep, but her mind had been in a fog and all she’d been thinking about was saving Knox and getting him to a healer.

She’d not even asked the boy’s name. Nor did she ken the identity of the man who’d attempted to burn her and Knox alive.

Murmurs got her attention, and she turned to see her uncle’s heartbreaking appearance. He looked small and feeble walking forward between two warriors with swords strapped to their backs and daggers tucked into their belts.

Surely all those weapons were not necessary for the task at hand. It could be, she considered, that they always wore the weaponry. Still, it made her feel so sad for her poor, sweet uncle.

As he walked by, her aunt jumped to her feet and rushed to him, but one of the warriors stuck out an arm to stop her. Despite the gesture, the warrior gave her aunt an apologetic look. “Please sit.”

Her uncle didn’t speak, his eyes pinned to his wife, his expression that of resignation. Sencha lifted her hand palm toward him and smiled hoping to give him encouragement. He didn’t seem to notice.

As the trio of men made their way to the front of the room, the murmuring got louder. People speculating. Stating opinions about the outcome. Some even going so far as to jeer at her uncle. Sencha bunched her hands in an effort to keep calm and not confront anyone.

Her mother must have sensed her anger because she covered Sencha’s hand with her own. “All will be well. It has to be.”

If only it was that easy.

When the laird stood, everyone went silent. Alexander was a tall man, and standing on the high board, he towered over the warriors and her uncle. He peered down at her uncle. “Donald McMurray, ye stand here accused of murder. The death of a man called Fitz.”

No one said anything, as there was no question asked.

Then the laird studied those gathered. “This is a matter of great importance. If ye wish to remain in this room, keep silent. I will nae hesitate in having ye removed from here.”

There was still a smattering of murmurs. It seemed the people were having a hard time keeping silent, Alexander gave the room a hard look and silence quickly descended.

Once the room was silent, the laird motioned to her uncle. “What have ye to say?”

“I didnae kill Fitz, my laird. I went that morning to the fishing village only to return the knife I had borrowed from a fisherman called Guiles. I swear to ye my laird, I never saw Fitz.” Her uncle’s voice wavered slightly, but he spoke out loudly.

“How do ye ken the dead man?” Alexander asked, still standing.

“I often go to the fishing village to get fish. My wife and I like to eat fish.”

At this point the laird sat and looked to his scribe. “Who are the witnesses?”

Several people raised their hands, Sencha included, who waved hers wildly.

The first person chosen to speak was a man Sencha didn’t recognize. By his weathered face and shabby clothing, she guessed him to be a fisherman.

“My laird, I am called Hugh. I saw Fitz arguing with a man two days before dying. The man was taller than him. They shoved each other.”

Murmurs grew but stopped suddenly at the laird’s sharp look around the room. “Who was the man he fought with?”

The man shifted nervously. “I was too far out on the water to see clearly. My eyes are nae what they use to be.”

What the man had said was helpful, and Sencha was glad it was not someone who would make her uncle seem guilty.

The laird finally looked in her direction. “Come forth, Sencha.”

When she stood there were gasps and exclamations about her appearance. Sencha did her best to keep her composure. In a way she was glad not to have looked in a mirror, at the same time not knowing made her want to crawl under one of the tables.

“How are ye faring?” Alexander’s expression was etched with concern.

“B-better. I wish to speak about what happened yesterday. I went to the fishing village to seek out the boy who may have seen something. He is called Willy. I was attacked by a man. He wanted to stop me from finding the boy.”

The whispers in the room swirled around her like a steady breeze. She shivered not wanting to hear what was said. “My laird. I can describe the man. I dinnae ken his name, but he is taller than my uncle and…”

“Ye ken nothing then?” someone jeered.

“A woman alone at the fishing village attacked has naught to do with this,” someone else said.

Alexander’s gaze didn’t waver from her. “Did the man say anything about Fitz that makes ye think he was who killed him?”

She wanted to cry. “Nae. He also attacked yer cousin, Knox. He has to be who murdered Fitz. Why else would he try to kill us?”

By the laird’s lack of expression, Sencha knew it barely helped. At the same time, what happened to her and Knox at the hands of the man had to cast doubt about her uncle being who killed the man Fitz.

Alexander dismissed her, and she turned to look at her uncle, who managed a soft smile and mouthed the words, thank ye . She shuffled back to the table where both her mother and aunt took her hands.

“There is little evidence for or against this man, Donald McMurray. Where is the man Kyle, who supposedly witnessed the accused of coming from the direction of the dead man’s hut?”

“He will nae appear,” Knox stated in a hoarse voice as he was helped by a guard toward the front of the room. “He is who attacked Sencha and me and tried to burn us alive.”

At the statement there were audible gasps and people began talking over each other.

“Silence,” Alexander called out in a strong, deep voice. “Enough.” He turned to his cousin. “Someone help him to sit.”

A chair was dragged next to Knox, but he remained standing. “Just before striking me, Kyle stated that he would nae come forward and be hung and that Fitz deserved to die.”

Once again the people began speaking, but this time kept their voices low, obviously not wishing to miss whatever was said next.

“He must be found,” Alexander said.

“Hendry and Liam have already gone with several men to search for him. He cannae have gone far. However, he does have a boat.” Knox went into a fit of coughs and had to lower to the chair.

“Take all the bìrlinns out,” Alexander commanded to several warriors who rushed out of the room. He then spoke to her uncle directly. “I dinnae believe ye killed Fitz. I find ye innocent of the crime ye are accused of.”

Her uncle seemed to sag with relief, tears streaming down his face. “Thank ye, Laird. I assure ye, I am innocent.”

Along with her aunt and mother, Sencha rushed to the front of the room to hug her uncle, who hugged his wife tightly as they both cried.

Her mother, aunt, and uncle walked from the room in the direction of the door. No doubt her uncle and aunt wished nothing more than to return home and she didn’t blame them one bit. Sencha herself wished to go home and recover from her injuries away from prying eyes.

Turning around, she noticed that Knox had sagged into the chair and looked on as people went to the laird. In all probability, they were Fitz’s friends and family asking for justice.

She neared and lowered to her knees in front of Knox. “Thank ye. Ye saved my uncle’s life and almost lost yers in the process.”

When he met her eyes, he half-smiled. “And ye saved my life. I would say we are even.” Taking her shoulder he attempted to help her to stand and then winced and closed his eyes.

Sencha leaned closer cupping his face with both hands. “Yer head continues to hurt. Ye should go lie down. I will help ye.”

When he opened his eyes and gazed into hers, it was as if the room emptied and only he and she existed. She couldn’t help looking down at his lips, wondering what it would be like for them to press against hers. It was as if time stood still, neither able to formulate words nor move away.

“I will help ye back to yer room,” a deep voice said immediately breaking the spell.

Knox blinked and nodded, once again wincing. “I can walk,” he said looking up at the guard who stood by.

“Again, thank ye,” Sencha said and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “My family is forever in yer debt.”