Their victim raised his head and snarled at them, until they ran away.
“Is he really a murderer?” Riona asked the merchant, wondering if that was so, why he was only in the stocks.
“He killed the lad’s dog a fortnight ago. It got to barking one night and that drunken lout beat it to death. Sir Nicholas ordered him to be in the stocks for two months, then to leave Dunkeathe and never come back.”
Riona tried not to betray any overt interest in the lord of Dunkeathe or his justice. “That seems harsh.”
“Sir Nicholas is a hard man, but he keeps the peace,” the tradesman replied with approval.
She was quite sure Sir Nicholas and his soldiers were capable of maintaining order, which probably explained the merchant’s admiration.
“Most noblemen wouldn’t care two straws for a peasant boy’s dog, but he did,” the merchant continued. “He treated the boy as serious as if he was a grown man when the lad spoke up at the hall-moot. Still, nobody really thought Sir Nicholas would punish one of his own men over it.”
In spite of her previous thoughts, Riona couldn’t help being impressed, too. “That’s one of his men?”
“Aye, an archer from the castle.”
Riona recalled what she’d seen of Sir Nicholas when he was with his soldiers. He was generally grim, unsmiling, fully the commander. He seemed so with the servants, too, so she’d been dismissing him as simply a harsh, unyielding tyrant. Clearly, he did have some sympathy for those beneath him.
It was a pity he didn’t show that side of himself more often. It would hardly cost him any respect, for she doubted there was aperson who met the lord of Dunkeathe who wasn’t in awe of his power and accomplishments. Even she—
She realized Eleanor was waiting and didn’t understand what they were saying. She briefly recounted what the merchant had told her.
“His own soldier—and over a dog?” Eleanor said, her eyes wide.
“I was surprised, too,” Riona confessed.
She wondered if Eleanor would reveal what she thought of Sir Nicholas now, but instead her friend gave a longing look at the lovely wool, sighed and said, “I suppose we should be getting back to the castle. The men may already be finished with the hunt and I don’t think Percival will be pleased if he finds out I was in the village.”
“I daresay Uncle Fergus and Fredella will be curious about where we went,” Riona remarked as they started toward the castle. “That’s if they’ve even noticed we’re gone.”
Eleanor smiled as they walked across the green, veering well away from the stocks. “I doubt they’ve noticed anything much at all, except each other.”
“Uncle Fergus seems very taken with her.”
“And she with him. Nothing would make me happier than to see Fredella happily married,” Eleanor replied. She flushed and slid a wary glance at her companion. “Although your uncle is a nobleman and she’s only a servant.”
Riona hastened to relieve her of any worries on that score. “I’m sure his intentions are honorable. Uncle Fergus would no more be dishonorable than the sun would cease to rise. It simply isn’t in his nature.”
“Yet marriage between a thane and a servant? Is that not frowned on in Scotland?”
“Uncle Fergus says it’s love that matters. He grieved deeply for my aunt when she died, but that was many years ago. If Fredella makes him happy, I wouldn’t raise any objections. Neither will his son, I’m sure,” she added sincerely.
Indeed, she was sure Kenneth wouldn’t complain any more than she would. They both loved Uncle Fergus too much to protest his choice of bride, whether she was highborn or low, rich or poor. “You won’t mind losing your servant?”
“Not if her new circumstances are her choice and make her happy.”
“What about Percival?”
“I don’t think he even realizes Fredella’s alive, most of the time. I doubt he’ll notice if she leaves. I wouldn’t ask him to find me another maidservant, though. I’d find one myself. I wouldn’t trust his judgment.”
Neither would Riona. “Then it’s settled between us,” she said, smiling at her young friend. “If they want to get married, we won’t stand in their way.”
Eleanor laughed merrily and so did Riona. She’d never expected to be friends with a Norman, but Eleanor was a kind,sweet girl who already seemed like the younger sister she’d never had.
“Riona!”
They both looked over their shoulders, to see Uncle Fergus and Sir Nicholas riding toward them. She would have feared Uncle Fergus had fallen and been hurt, except that he was smiling and seemed very happy.
