Somehow, Farlan had subsequently forgiven her that deed. Such was love. But Moira had not liked the way that left her feeling, and would not do it to other captives.
Rhian could not deny Farlan and her sister did love one another. Farlan’s love had, in some ways, changed the woman Moira was.
“Farlan,” Moira said, “will ye go and find Saerla so she too may sit in on the judging? I think we all three should be here standing united.”
Farlan went out without a word. Rhian wondered how it was for him, living among folk who did not want him here. Forced day after day to endure their enmity and disparagement. Would that ever change? Not while Rory MacLeod sought to overthrow them.
“Come.” Moira held out a hand to Rhian. “Here, beside me.”
A party of MacBeith clansmen soon came in, bringing Elreadh with them. The girl, whom they either led or assisted along, drooped in their grasp. She had long, fair hair hanging loose down her back and eyes turned red with weeping. Her parents came hurrying after her, concern etched on their faces.
Despite Rhian’s outrage, pity flared in her heart. The girl had lost the man she loved—no one could gainsay that. She appeared utterly broken. Yet, as Moira said, they could not condone attempted murder of one who was, for better or worse, under their protection.
Moira got to her feet to meet the party. Rhian arose too from her place by the fire.
“Elreadh MacBeith,” Moira said. It was a calling, a summoning, and spoken in a passable imitation of Da’s tone of voice. One of command.
Ah, and could Rhian feel Da here with them in this place where he’d made so many wise decisions? They needed him now, needed his strength and forbearance.
Indeed, as Moira tipped her head and regarded Elreadh, Rhian saw a trace of their da in her. Rarely had the resemblance been so strong.
Elreadh looked up. She appeared terrified. All in all, with clansmen on either side holding her up, she made a pitiful sight.
Sternly, Moira demanded, “What ha’ ye to say for yoursel’?”
Alasdair had backed off a few steps, perhaps indicating that he left this in Moira’s hands. He watched Elreadh with no change of expression as her gaze flew from Moira’s face to Rhian’s, to his and back again.
“I did no’ mean to do it. I was passing by the place wi’ a load o’ linens, just, for my dear Dannochat’s bier. And I thought—why should that MacLeod monster live, when my husband lies dead?”
An honest question, one spoken without defiance. Elreadh was far too broken for defiance. And aye, if the council came, they would seek to impose no punishment.
Saerla came rushing in and stepped up to take the place between Moira and Rhian, clasping both their hands.
“How could ye attack a man, attempt to murder him, wi’out meaning it?” Moira asked.
“I did no’ mean it,” Elreadh insisted. “My heart bade me all at once. I was passing by, as I say. I’d just been sitting wi’ my husband—my da and I had—wi’ his body. What’s left o’ him after those MacLeods ran him through. I said I would fetch the linens to wrap him for his grave.”
No one there said anything.
Elreadh stumbled on. “I ran by the pen and saw no one was there guarding the door. I thought, wha’ if he’s the one who killed my Dannochat? Wha’ if he escapes and goes on to kill some other lass’s man? It is no’ right that he should live while my man lies cold.”
Saerla squeezed Rhian’s hand.
“So I lifted the bar and went in.” Elreadh wept now. “He lay there sleeping. I thought how easy ’twould be to cover his face and stop his breath. I had a bolster wi’ me, that we had meant to use for Dannochat.” She paused and swallowed hard. “I smashed it down over his face, thinking only to hold it there till he slipped awa’. But he came awake. He struggled. He was still stronger than me.” She sobbed. “I was no’ strong enough to bring my man the justice he deserves.”
“There now,” said the man to Elreadh’s right, who more than half supported her. “It is enough, Mistress Moira. Let the lass be.”
Said another member of the party, Elreadh’s father, “She did no’ kill the bastard, after all.”
The council had not come, no, not yet. Yet, in a way, they were here. These men who had followed the bidding of their chief and brought Elreadh in expressed a common feeling. No one would condemn this lass for what she had done.
“’Twas an attempt at murder.” Moira sounded stern.
“O’ a MacLeod.” The first man spoke again. “Do we no’ do the same during every battle?”
“Aye, but,” Rhian heard herself say, “those men are no’ lying defenseless. They have swords in their hands.”
“And,” Moira added, “they are no’ under our protection.”
