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“Betsy?”
“One of our servants. Elspeth reminds me of her, a little. But Betsy cannot help me either, not from beyond the grave.”
“She is dead?”
“You should know, you had her killed along with the rest of our household.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You had them all assembled in the bailey in order that your men could cut them down.” Roselyn choked back a sob. “She did not deserve that. None of them did.”
“I agree.”
“Then why? You warlords are all the same and you, sir, are no better than my brother.”
He regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Have a care, madam, lest I lose my patience with you after all. Your servants are not dead, or if they are it was not my doing. I offered them a choice, that is all.”
“A choice? What choice did you put before them?”
“We set Etal to the torch, you know that.”
“Yes,” she responded bitterly. He noted that despite her obvious distress she did not relinquish the pressing business of shielding her luscious breasts from his view. Perhaps he might insist…
He quashed that impulse. He would not ill-treat his prisoner out of annoyance at her harsh judgement of his honour. “I offered those who wished it the choice of remaining at Etal to rebuild their homes. Some opted for that and we left them some supplies to see them through the coming lean weeks. It will be hard, but their survival is in their own hands.” He paused to regard her stunned expression with a degree of satisfaction. “It was a better option than that granted to my people by your brother.”
“You left them there? Alive?”
“Aye, some. Those who wished to remain. I also offered your people the choice of going to Mortain to make new homes there. It would be several days’ journey, but the land there is fertile and will support them if they are prepared to work hard. I believe that the majority found that an attractive proposition. They will have reached their new home by now.”
“Oh.”
He was gratified to have near-enough silenced the little English wench. But he was not yet done. “There was a third option, that of making the long and rather more arduous journey to Duncleit. Those who choose to make the trip will find a welcome here.”
“Here, my lord? You invited people from Etal to comehere?” If she had seemed surprised before she was utterly incredulous now.
“Aye, we can always use willing workers in the Highlands.”
“But it is much too far, and in unknown terrain. How would they even find this place?”
“They have directions, and they can ask those they meet along the route. Duncleit is well known.”
“Directions? You mean some would actually contemplate it? They would attempt to make their way here, across the whole of Scotland, on foot?”
“They are made of stern stuff, your countrymen, more so perhaps than you give them credit for. And yes, a group did decide to make the attempt.”
“But—”
“We passed them as we made our return from Alnwick where we lost your brother’s trail. There were perhaps six or eight, two families as far as I could tell though I did not enquire closely. They had reached the southern shore of Loch Lomond when we caught up to them.”
“How much farther…?”
“They had covered perhaps half the distance and it had taken them over a sennight.”
“They will never make it. ‘Tis too far…”
“I am not so sure. We left them a horse and coin with which to purchase a cart, as well as food. I believe we could expect them within two days, three at the most. If they are not here by then I shall send out men in search of them.”
“You would do that, for your enemies?”
