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Fia repeated what she heard in her head. “By your hand.”
“You are a witch, knowing things, just like your grandmother. Aye, by my hand, witch,” he admitted smiling.
His sinister smile sent a chill rippling through her, and she hugged her cloak snug around her as Lord David continued talking.
“When Varrick’s mum died shortly after birthing him, I told the midwife to kill the bairn and say it was born dead and prepare it for burial, the wrappings thick so no one could look on it and suspect anything. I did not find out until years later when a woman who had assisted the midwife confessed the truth on her deathbed, afraid she would suffer in hell for the lie she had told. The midwife had failed to obey me. That midwife was your grandmother. Unfortunately, the woman who confessed died before she could tell me anything more. I could not chance my nephew finding out the truth and appearing one day to claim his inheritance. I will secure the Clan MacSymon for my son so that my progeny continues to rule. It was a tiresome journey to see it done but worth it. However, you can imagine my surprise when I discovered that the legendary Highlander was my nephew.”
“What proof do you have that Varrick is your nephew?” Fia asked and shook her head. “And why not simply let the past be? Varrick would be no threat to you with no one alive to tell him of his past.”
“I couldn’t take the chance he would seek revenge on me and my son if he found out that I killed his father. When Abbott John informed me about your visit to the abbey and how you reminded him of your grandmother, I knew my concern was warranted. And when I saw you, it was obvious you were the witch’s granddaughter. And since women cannot hold their tongues, I knew your grandmother must have made you aware of the child she saved out of concern for your safety. After all, she was wise enough to leave the area right after the birth, never to be found until many years later.”
“That was why you wanted me, not because you believe me a witch but because of who my grandmother was.”
“True, but it worked out well enough. I saw how Varrick protected you, how you had begun to manipulate him, and knew then he would not surrender you to anyone easily. And with you being a witch, his marriage to you made my plan of proving him a weak leader easier.”
“Why not just battle him?”
Lord David laughed. “I am no fool. I knew I could not defeat the legendary warrior, at least not in battle. His fighting skills far exceed mine or anyone’s for that matter. I had to turn his clan against him, and I must say you made that much easier for me. And as my plan evolved, I realized that ridding myself of my nephew would provide me with an even greater benefit. It would expand my land and power and influence since I would be known as the man who conquered the legendary Highlander.”
Greed.
It was no voice that warned her. She had learned early on how deadly greed could be.
“What about the God of Death?” she asked.
“It was easy enough to spin a tale when questions began to arise. Warrior monks were known to stop for a night or two of shelter at various clans. No one would ever suspect them of slipping poison into someone’s food or drink. And I thought the poisoned animals at the castle wall was a nice touch to frighten people while turning more guilt on you.”
“And your wolfhounds provided the howls?”
“Let me say that their howls encouraged the other wolves in the forest, especially Lord Walter’s white hounds that break free of their enclosure from time to time.”
“With help of course,” she said, needing no voice in her head to tell her that.
“So, tell me, since I grow impatient after all these years, what your grandmother told you of my nephew’s birth.”
“My grandmother never revealed a secret told to her,” Fia said and had no time to avoid his hand that slapped her face so hard it flung her head back, causing a pain to shoot through it.
“You lie! She had to have told you something,” Lord Davis insisted.
His assault should have frightened her, but it angered her instead and she said what she had surmised from their conversation. “You cannot know for sure that Varrick is your nephew. You probably still search for absolute proof, killing those men along the way who, by chance, might have been your nephew.” She realized her mistake for speaking her thought when she suffered another blow to her cheek.
“I can keep doing this until morning,” he snarled.
Fia realized madness lied within his fury and she had to be careful.
There was a battle that day.
She closed her eyes for a moment as if in thought, when it was to calm herself, grateful the voice was there to help her.
“You fought a battle that day.”
Lord David grinned. “I knew the witch told you something. Aye, there was a battle. A victorious one in more ways than one.”
“You laid claim to the clan that day until news reached you that your brother’s wife had delivered a son,” Fia said, hoping she had assumed correctly.
“Aye, the last thing that stood between me leading the clan.”
A mark like his father.
