"You lie," Alpin growled.
Norval glared at him. "Hold your tongue, sirrah, or you will find yourself waking up in my dungeon."
Norval had taken her enemy's side. Wilona wanted naught more to do with the knave. She would pursue justice until her dying day, for she would see no peace until she had avenged her son's death.
"Take only your personal belongings when you leave at daybreak," Norval commanded. "Take none of the silver or household valuables. They belong to the clan."
Wishing she could throw a dagger at him, she clenched her fists. "We'll need horses."
"Take one each."
When Norval quit the room, Wilona ground her teeth. It took all her willpower not to place a curse upon him. If she did, her whole clan would know it and seize her. She must maintain her freedom to achieve revenge against the three murderers. Once that was accomplished, she would figure out a way to reclaim her home.
"Go, find yourself some clothing and food for our supper," she ordered Alpin.
"Aye."
After he strode from the chamber, she closed the door and barred it, then opened her armoire. She possessed a considerable amount of beautiful clothing, but she could not pack it all on one horse.
She grew tired merely looking at it. Where had her maids gotten to? Norval had likely sent them to Duncorry.
Wilona chose a few riding outfits for easy travel. In addition, she would take her jewelry, dried herbs, and other supplies for her spells. Over the years, she had hoarded gold and silver coins in the bottom of a chest. 'Twould be most useful to pay for lodging until she found a permanent residence.
Alpin returned half an hour later and knocked at the door. When she unbarred it, he carried a tray of food and drink into the room. She was glad to see he had dressed.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"An inn."
"What of Gavin?" Alpin shoved half a bannock into his mouth and chewed.
"I've nay given up. I'll have my revenge upon him, MacElrath, and MacCain. If you help me, you will soon be chief of the MacTavish clan."
Alpin grinned, his blue eyes lighting with greed. She kenned precisely how to convince him to do her bidding. "Sounds like a grand plan to me."
"Get some sleep," she said. "Use the room next door. We have much travel ahead of us tomorrow."
"Are we going north or south?"
"I'll let you ken in the morn after I have consulted my keek-stane."
"I bid you good night, then." He gave a slight bow and closed the door on his way out.
After she ate a light supper and drank some wine, she finished packing. She crammed her necessary herbs, potions, jewelry, and a spell book into the leather satchel. Finally, she took the keek-stane, sat on the chaise, and leaned back against the pillows. She must let go of her agitation and calm herself to see anything in the scrying stone.
Wanting to perceive Gavin MacTavish and what he was doing so she might figure out how best to destroy him, she thought of the knave. But even after several long minutes, she could not catch sight of him in the black obsidian. Annoyance disturbed her greatly, which shattered her focus. After an hour or more, she gave up.
When she banished Gavin from her mind, she relaxed. Still staring into the stone, she glimpsed a vision of a white horse with a luxurious mane and tail. She well knew 'twas Torr MacElrath in his kelpie form, for she had watched him before. He galloped along the edge of a loch, then splashed into the water to swim.
Up to this point, she had not paid much attention to him. According to Alpin, Torr had not wielded the blade that killed her son. But Torr had certainly helped Gavin and the rest during the ambush. Torr had not prevented Gavin from killing Silas. Hence, she blamed him almost as much. Plus, he had killed one of their guards with his arrow.
It had been over a year since she'd cast her brilliant spell, and she'd never seen the three friends meeting up during that time. On a couple of occasions, she had peered into their lives while one was reading a missive from another.
'Twas obvious why Gavin and Torr had not visited each other. Gavin had changed into a hawk during the daylight hours, while Torr shifted into a kelpie at night. They were never human at the same time, and they could not have held a conversation—part of her grand plan. But now that the harlot had destroyed Gavin's curse, he and Torr could visit and converse during the daytime.
If Gavin decided to travel to Torr's home, he would take an army of guards. But mayhap she could lure him out so that Alpin could kill him. She'd witnessed Alpin practicing his archery skills during the past few years, and he was competent.
But first, she must visit Torr. She would endeavor to kill two shifters with one stone.
