She shrugged his touch off. “My son would never do anything like this.” Her body told him otherwise.
“I swear to you, I just want to talk to him. I’m not going to harm him.” For the moment, at least.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t know where he is. He took off running the minute you carried your friend upstairs. But he didn’t do it. I know he didn’t.”
Sin took a deep breath as the confirmation of his suspicions resonated through him. There was no longer any doubt. “He gave you the cakes, didn’t he?”
“He didn’t do it,” she sobbed. “He’s a good lad. He loves his sister. He would never seek to do her harm.”
Sin drew the woman into his arms and held her quietly as she sobbed against him. “Shh,” he whispered against her head. “I just want to talk to the lad.”
Regaining some of her composure, she pulled back. “I really don’t know where he went.”
Damn.
Sin released her and offered her a smile. “Wipe your eyes, Morna. All will be well, you’ll see.”
She nodded.
Sin left and headed back toward the hall. He found Aster in the narrow hallway, wringing his hands.
“It’s Dermot you’re after, isn’t it?” the old man asked nervously.
A chill went down his spine as he watched the Highlander shift about. “You knew he was in charge of the rebels?”
Aster scoffed. “I suspected he was one of the rebels, but if you think he’s got the ability to lead, there you’d be mistaken.”
Sin didn’t think so. He’d seen the way the others responded and looked at the boy. “He’s the eldest son of the last laird. It would only make sense.”
“Aye, but when Neil died, ‘twas Callie they wanted to vote as leader.”
Sin arched a brow as he recalled Callie’s words on the matter. “Truly?”
Aster nodded. “She’s the king’s blood kin and has a good head on her shoulders. Everyone in the clan agreed even though she was a woman, that she would be a good leader for the clan.”
“Then why isn’t she?”
“She wouldn’t do it. She was afraid it would insult Dermot and me. She thanked everyone at the meeting and then graciously stepped down.”
“And they voted you in.”
“Aye.”
Now everything made sense to him. Dermot’s innate hatred of him and the envious stares the lad would cast at his sister and uncle when he thought no one was watching. “It must have set ill with Dermot to see his sister and then his uncle voted in while he was the legitimate son of the laird.”
“Aye, but he was only ten-and-three at the time. He couldn’t have really hoped for it.”
Sin knew better. A boy at that age held an arrogance that was surpassed only by youthful foolishness. “How did Dermot react to the news?”
“He was mad, of course. Said if he’d been born of noble blood, they wouldn’t have hesitated to vote him in. He stormed out but once he calmed down, he agreed that it was fitting I should lead.”
Sin clenched his teeth. There were none so blind as a devoted parent or uncle with a child in pain. They couldn’t accept the fact that the boy they all loved could be capable of perpetrating such mayhem. But at Dermot’s current age, Sin had been the very essence of brutal destruction.
“How long after that did the raiding start?”
“Maybe six weeks.”
“And they’ve continued since?”
