Chapter Twenty-Four

"What medicines do not heal, the lance will; what the lance does not heal, fire will."

Hippocrates, 460–370 BC, Greek scientist

Rory thundered down the path past the charred ruins of the chapel. He heard Eliza murmur something and saw her make the sign of the cross before her. Surely, Kenan told her about the fiery destruction and mass murder attempt.

But seeing the blackened walls and shattered stained glass of the roofless structure was jarring. It looked almost like the Devil himself had plodded through the one-room chapel, scorching where his hoofed feet had stomped.

The soaring gray form of Dunvegan castle loomed ahead, and before it, warriors and villagers were gathered. Rory slowed his horse. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

"Something bad," Eliza said.

He agreed. Several women dabbed at their eyes or whispered with condemning frowns, and the men looked ready to draw swords, their faces red and hands fisted. Rory came to a stop near the ferry to Dunvegan's entrance. "What goes on here?" he asked as several of his men came forward, Barnaby catching Airgid's bridle.

The man looked up with a pinched face. "'Tis said the chief has died, murdered."

The words hit Rory like a gale. To the onlookers, he took the news stoically. Inside, his heart pounded. "How?"

Barnaby glanced at Eliza. "Pardon me, Lady Eleri," he said. "Bashed head."

One of Rory's warriors, Edgar, shook his head. "I heard poison."

"Nay," Barnaby argued, "'tis said there was a bloody mess to clean."

Henrietta Blounce stepped forward from the middle of the group of spinners and fullers she helped. She spat on the ground, and her full bosom heaved with anger, her gray hair pulled into a painfully tight bun at the back of her head. She was also the local midwife and unofficial leader of the female population in the village. "The evil deed was done by the Flame of Dunscaith," she yelled.

Sara? What did Jamie do to her? Had he raped her? Attacked her, and she was forced to fight him off? Fury surged through him like an out-of-control fire sweeping across a brittle field.

Rory dismounted, pulling Eliza down right after him. "We need to go on the ferry to the entrance," he said, trying to keep the bloodlust out of his voice. Her cape would hide that her well-known hump was missing. She said nothing but hurried along, letting the villagers think she was his sister, Eleri. No one questioned him about her riding home with him. Perhaps it was the look of fury in his eyes that kept them silent.

Edgar and Barnaby hurried along with him to the ferry. "Did Jok return?" Rory asked.

Edgar nodded. "Early this morn."

Rory leaped off the ferry and took Eliza's hand, helping her jump the gap.

"Oh," she gasped as she looked up the steep incline of steps into Dunvegan. "Go on." She shooed him. "I'll be right behind you, just a bit slower."

His worry about Sara spurred him forward, and he took the steps two at a time, finally running through the open gate and into Dunvegan.

Gus spotted him immediately when he strode into the great hall and met him at the archway. His barking mixed with loud wails echoing around the room, although it came from only one source.

"She killed him! She'll poison us all," Winnie Mar yelled. "Throw her in the dungeon pit again! Or burn her."

Brodrick held Jamie's mistress who tried to lunge toward Sara, her fingers curved like claws to scratch Sara's eyes out.

Sara, on the other hand, stood calmly in a simple blue gown, her hair down, and her face pale. But she didn't back away or cower from the accusation. Eleri, Margaret, and Jok stood next to her. His mother's cousins, Simon and John, sat at the table between both parties as if watching a joust.

Simon spotted him and rose, pointing. "The Lion of Skye returns."

John stood slowly. "He's not holding the Fairy Flag."

"I can see that," Simon said, frowning. "Did ye leave it on yer horse?" he asked, his voice raised to reach over Winnie's loud weeping.

But Rory was looking at Sara. Her brow rose slightly in question. Did she also wonder if he'd found the flag? He gave a small shake of his head.

"Daingead," Simon said. "That bastard Macdonald must have it."

"We're doomed," John added and flashed an annoyed glance toward Winnie. "Shut off yer yowling, woman."

"My brother is dead?" Rory said over Winnie's sniffles. Sara gave a small nod. Was there sorrow in the pinch of her brow? Guilt?

His two men and Eliza walked in behind Rory, and Sara's gaze slid past him. Her mouth opened on a little gasp, and she clasped her hands as if sending up a prayer of thanksgiving to God. Her face, which had been perfectly masked, changed through a range of emotions: relief, worry, joy. Everyone stopped making noise, even Winnie, as they stared at the girl who was nearly identical to Eleri.

Eleri stared at her twin from across the hall, and Margaret's hand flattened against her mouth, her eyes wide. Simon opened his one eye as large as he could, his head swiveling back and forth between Eleri and Eliza. "John, I'm having a brain attack." His hand went out to grasp his friend's shoulder, but then he plopped back onto the bench. "I knew it. I'm dying."

"There's two of them," John said.

Simon turned his good eye to him. "Ye see…two of Lady Eleri? Ye're dying, too."

"Eliza." Sara dashed across the hall. As she passed, Winnie flapped her arms at her like a person stretching through a set of iron bars to tear into their captor, but Brodrick held her back. Sara gave no notice. She caught her sister in her arms, hugging her. Sara squeezed her eyes closed, resting her chin on the top of Eliza's head, as if she were nearly overcome.

Eleri clung to Margaret, tears on her cheeks, her eyes wide.

The scene squeezed Rory's chest. He hadn't intended for the lasses to meet with a ghastly death marring the happy reunion. But at least Sara knew Eliza was safe from her father's brutality. The relief on Sara's face was almost joy.

"Kenan brought her," Rory said, walking closer to them. "I met him several hours out from here. He returned home to see if the Fairy Flag shows up at Dunscaith."

Sara's eyes opened, meeting Rory's gaze, but she didn't release Eliza. "Is something going on at Dunscaith?"

Eliza pulled from her arms. "Father is preparing for war even though he won't admit it to Kenan. Troops gathering. Swords and arrows being readied." She shook her head. "Kenan said he saw Gilbert carrying cauldrons up for flaming pitch."

"Did she say war?" John asked.

"Hold yer tongue, woman," Simon said, striding over, his arm going out to Winnie. "I can't hear what's being said."

John followed. "Too much to keep up with, and that woman is a banshee."

"Jamie's dead!" Winnie yelled again, and Simon put his fingers in his ears, glaring back at her.

"We all know," John said and leaned into Simon. "'Tis not fair." He stuck his finger from his remaining hand into one ear. "I can still hear her."

"I'm telling ye," Simon replied, "carry a bit of wool with ye to stuff in the other side."

"'Tis not like I know when she's going to be caterwauling," John grumbled.

Rory walked to the center of the room and held out his arms. "Everyone, hold their tongues." He looked at Winnie. "If ye need to grieve loudly, return to yer cottage. Edgar can row ye ashore."

Winnie sniffed and bared her teeth at Sara. "I will stay to see her get what she deserves."

Rory exhaled. "Then keep yer mouth shut. If ye can't do that"—he lifted his gaze to Brodrick—"hand her off to Edgar." Rory turned away from Winnie's fury-laden frown to look at Jok. "We'll go up to Jamie's bedchamber in a moment. First…" He beckoned Eleri closer.

His sister ran over to him. "Eleri, I wish it was under better circumstances, but this is your sister, Eliza." He beckoned to the other twin, and she walked over with Sara holding her hand. "Yer father was Alasdair MacLeod and yer mother was Elspet Gunn Macdonald."

Winnie gasped. "Was Jamie nearly wed to his own sister?" She stared at Sara.

"Nay," Rory said. "Jamie's and my parents were two completely different people than Sara's parents. Eliza and Eleri are our half sisters." He looked at Margaret. "Could ye look after them and find a room for Eliza?"

"I would very much like to," Margaret said, and Rory thought he saw tears in her eyes. She smiled as she rounded the girls up like a mother hen.

"Now," Rory said. "Jamie." He strode toward the stairs with Jok and Brodrick, who had made Winnie sit down with Edgar standing guard. John and Simon had apparently recovered from their shock because they hurried on with them. When Rory reached the steps, he turned back to the hall, his gaze settling on Sara. "Lady Sara, I'd also like a word with ye."

She picked up her skirt hem and walked toward him, her slippers giving little taps on the stone. With red-gold hair draping her shoulders, she looked like a legendary heroine stepping out of an ancient tapestry. And like the characters in most tapestries, her face was emotionless.

He wanted to pull her into a room alone, smooth his thumb over the soft skin of her cheeks, and ask what Jamie had done to her. No bruises bloomed on her lovely face, but they could be hidden under her clothing, like what she was hiding on her back. She stopped before him, and he studied her eyes. "Are ye hurt?" he asked, his voice low, although those near him could still hear. "Did Jamie do anything to ye?"

"No," she said and tipped her head, glancing away. "He put me in the pit." She wrapped her arms around herself as if she could still feel the dank, cold stones pressing in on her.

"He said he wouldn't, the bloody shite," Rory said, his words cutting.

"Ye shouldn't speak ill of the dead," Simon said.

"He's a bloody shite, alive or dead," Rory said. He'd been placed in the dungeon pit several times growing up. 'Twas his father's favorite way to remind him he was forgettable. He knew how cold and wet it was. One was dead down there without food lowered, and if the tide came too high, the prisoner could drown.

Rory squeezed Sara's hand. Again, he wished they were alone.

"Tell him," Jok said, looking at Brodrick.

Brodrick cleared his throat. "Jamie let her choose between the pit or his bedchamber."

Rory's nostrils flared. "And she chose an icy pit."

"Yes," she said.

"So, she was angry at him," Brodrick said as if this gave her motive.

Rory led Sara through the corridor toward Jamie's room. "Cause of death?" Rory asked.

"Poison mushrooms," Brodrick said. The man, his brother's only friend, sounded furious with the extra heaviness of sorrow.

"The villagers think his head was bashed in," Rory said. Anyone could use poison.

Jok came even with his strides, handing him a folded letter with a broken wax seal. "This was found in Lady Sara's tower bedchamber this morning." He looked at Sara. "Milady was also there, asleep, and says she hadn't seen it last night when she…when she made it to her room in the dark."

"She climbed out of the pit," Brodrick said as if this spoke of her vileness.

"Presented with a rope ladder," Sara said, "I challenge even you, Brodrick, not to make use of it when stuck down there all day."

"She shouldn't have been put in it to begin with," Rory said.

"And Rory…" Jok said, waiting until he looked at him to speak. "No one has confessed to dropping the ladder down to her last night."

Rory stopped, turning to look at her. "Ye didn't see who threw the ladder down to ye?"

Her lips pinched as she returned the frown Brodrick trained on her, but her gaze slid to Rory's. "I don't know. I'd fallen asleep and woke only to hear them climbing the stairs to leave the underground corridor."

Brodrick huffed. "One doesn't fall asleep in icy water at the bottom of a pit. And she admitted that she'd killed Jamie when I confronted her this morn."

"I did not," Sara said.

"I asked if ye'd killed him, and ye said that ye'd done it but not alone."

She shook her head, a look of angry confusion on her face. There were dark smudges of weariness under her eyes. Had she been given food and drink yet today?

"You didn't say killed him," she replied. "I thought you'd asked if I'd escaped the damn pit, which I hadn't done alone since someone threw a rope ladder down to me."

"And there's a stool down in the hole, and a blanket," Simon said, "so she very well could have fallen asleep leaning against the wall on it."

"And a hearty basket of food, drink, and one tart," John added.

Everyone turned to stare at the two old men who crossed their arms. John shrugged. "Thought ye should know it all."

The details were piling on top of each other. Brodrick pointed at the letter forgotten in Rory's hand. "Read it."

"'Tis my father's handwriting," Sara said, her voice calm. "And, again, I hadn't seen it before Brodrick woke me. 'Twas dark, and I had no taper or lantern."

"The seal was broken," Brodrick said with a sneer.

"That means nothing. Anyone could break a seal, leaving it in my room, making it look like I'd read it."

That was true, but as Rory read the damning letter, his gut tightened.

If you rid this world of your bridegroom and the Lion of Skye, I will grant you and your sister, Eliza, Dunvegan Castle and its vast territory. If you fail me, Sara, Eliza will be reunited with her mother before Christmastide.

He swallowed. Walter Macdonald's orders were clear, as was his threat against Sara's cherished little sister. Tucking the letter into his sash, Rory turned on his heel to continue down the corridor. He didn't retake Sara's hand. Jamie was dead, and Sara had an excellent reason for killing him. She hadn't yet known that Eliza was on her way to Dunvegan.

Rory stopped at the door of his brother's bedchamber, his hand resting on the carved wooden frame. Bloody hell. Could Sara be guilty? If she admitted it, would he understand? Pardon her actions? I swear to protect Clan MacLeod above all else . His oath blared through his memory.

Brodrick came around and opened the door as if Rory was waiting for someone to do so. The room was cold since no fire had been stirred, and two maids silently hustled around with dirty bedding. Reid Hodges stood near the window, hopping from one foot to the next like he did when terribly nervous.

Hamish sat in a chair before a squat table where he examined the contents of a soup bowl, bits of it on a large handkerchief. He looked up from his task. "Rory."

But before he could say anything else, Sara gasped, and Rory's gaze swung to his brother. Rory's breath halted at the shocking sight.

"Holy Lord Almighty," Jok screeched.

John grabbed Simon's arm, staggering. "Unnatural."

"My head," Simon said, his hand flattening against the side of it as if he were indeed experiencing apoplexy.

Jamie's lips were parted and his eyes open. He blinked at them all staring at him, but then his gaze shifted to Rory. "Welcome back, brother."