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Egan longed to accept Albyn’s wild raving as true, but he was reluctant to believe Oriana held any tender feelings for him. “Let us keep our minds on our task,” he grumbled, but with every step, it became increasingly difficult.
Finally, with a great strength of will, he locked the distracting thoughts of Oriana away in his heart. With every step his eagerness for a fight grew, and when a boar suddenly broke from the thicket in a wild, scrambling charge, he was poised for the kill.
Oriana went first to Egan’s chamber, left her cloak, and from there made her way to Adelaine’s room. Just as she had hoped, Myrna was there adding fresh rushes to the floor. The door stood ajar, but not wishing to startle the friendly servant, Oriana rapped lightly.
“Oh, it is you, lass,” Myrna exclaimed. “Is there something you’re needing?” She scattered the last of the rushes and came forward.
Oriana closed the door behind her, and taking Myrna’s tiny hand, led her toward the bed. “Please, sit here with me for a while. I’ve so many questions, and you’re the only one I can ask.”
Myrna blushed with pride, and she swayed a bit, until she was nearly dancing over the carpet of rushes to the bed. “I know so little, but ask whatever you please, and I’ll do my best to answer.”
Oriana waited for the little woman to make herself comfortable before she took her place at her side. “You seem to have such fond memories of Adelaine. If it would not sadden you too greatly, can you tell me how she died?”
Myrna leaned back, and her eyes widened in alarm. As though desperate for courage, she knotted her hands tightly in her lap. “It was all so long ago. Why do you want to go stirring up trouble?”
“She was Egan’s mother,” Oriana stressed, “and my curiosity about her is quite natural. I’d ask Egan, but he was too young to recall the details.”
Already cognizant of that fact, Myrna straightened until her spine was as stiff as a poker. She sat there frozen for an instant, and then a reply burst from her pursed lips. “Aye. I’ve forgotten them too.”
“No, you haven’t, and we’re going to sit right here until you describe in explicit detail exactly how Adelaine met her death.”
Myrna shook her head so violently, the bun atop her head began to list toward her left ear. “No one was there, lass, so the story died with her.”
Myrna was so terribly uneasy, Oriana was certain she knew far more. Egan might be able to force the truth from her, but she doubted he would agree to try. That meant she would have to find the answers on her own.
“Please take me to where Adelaine was standing when she fell. Once I’ve seen it, perhaps I’ll be better able to imagine what happened.”
“Oh, no, I never go up there,” Myrna vowed. “I refuse to make the climb.”
“Up where?” Oriana asked softly.
“Just follow the winding stairs to the top. You’ll come out on the wall walk behind the battlements. It’s windy and cold, so you best wear your heavy cloak.”
Oriana smiled at the motherly advice. “Did Adelaine enjoy strolling the battlements?”
Myrna’s scowl deepened. “No. I never knew her to seek out a chilly wind.”
Encouraged by that aside, Oriana offered another possibility. “Perhaps the magnificent view drew her.” Perhaps due to the depressing nature of their conversation, Oriana shivered from a sudden chill. “What time of day did she fall?”
The need to confide in a sympathetic listener continued to war with Myrna’s natural reserve, and a lengthy silence preceded her reply. “The mists had already drifted down off the mountain, but when I came to help Adelaine dress for the evening meal, her chamber was empty.”
Myrna paused to weigh her every word with care. “She spent many an afternoon with Cadell, or with Egan, so I did not worry until they both came to look for her here.”
“So she may have been missing long before her absence was noted?”
Hot tears stung Myrna’s eyes, and she wiped them away on the hem of her long tunic. “Like as not, she was already dead, my lady, but we searched the whole fortress for her. It wasn’t until dawn that a guard spied her broken body on the rocky cliff bordering the sea.”
The elderly woman raised shaking hands to cover her ears. “I’ll never forget Cadell’s anguished screams. By the time he reached his dear wife’s body, he was all cut and bloody from scrambling down the cliff, but he sat out there all day holding her in his arms. We all feared he would carry her out to sea and drown himself to be with her.”
“Oh, how awful,” Oriana murmured, and she began to pat Myrna’s bony shoulders. “But he lived many more years, so someone must have convinced him to embrace life despite the loss of his beloved wife.”
Briefly, Myrna appeared puzzled, but then she shrugged. “Well, of course you wouldn’t know, but it was Egan who traveled over the rocky cliff with the ease of a crab. He’s the one who led Cadell down to a waiting boat. It broke all our hearts to see him holding his dead mother’s hand as they were rowed around to the bay. He wasn’t more than five years old, but he became a man that day.”
Myrna reached out to touch the wooden beads Oriana wore. “Cadell dropped these around his son’s neck, and they dangled nearly to his knees. He wore them a long while, then packed them away with his mother’s belongings.”
Oriana smoothed her fingertips over the charming necklace. She had been immediately drawn to it, but could that have been a warning she had missed? “Adelaine was wearing these beads when she died?”
“Aye, it was her favorite gift from Cadell. Now I’ve said too much and really must be about my work. There’ll be another feast tonight, and we’re all needed in the kitchen.”
