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“You’ve stopped at my family’s croft on occasion. I am Willow, Edward’s widow.”
“Old Jacob’s place,” Trey said with a smile. “How is he?”
“He died,” Willow said with audible sadness.
“I’m so sorry. He was ill?” Trey asked.
“Sadly, no. He was as stubborn about dying as he was about living. I believe if we hadn’t been forced to leave our farm and walk here in a raging snowstorm, the old fool would have outlived me.”
“What happened?” Trey asked curious.
Tara excused herself before Willow recounted the heartbreaking story. She was eager for some time to herself. Not so much to think, she had done enough of that for today, just simply to be. And the best way to accomplish that was to keep her hands busy. With busy hands, her thoughts would fade, her worries would calm, and, for a while, just a while, she’d be somewhat at peace. She could sew, or she could bake bread. She chose the more strenuous of the two and hurried off to the kitchen.
Reeve’s father and brothers were waiting for him, and he dropped into the only unoccupied chair in the room.
“Sorry to take you away from your wife on your wedding night,” Carmag said. “But I felt this meeting could not wait.”
“After all that has happened tonight, I expected it,” Reeve admitted, and his brothers nodded in agreement.
“The king grows bolder, as do his soldiers,” Carmag said. “They prowl our land whereas before they kept a respectful distance. Something has changed.”
“We know that the king has suffered money woes of late,” Bryce said. “Could be his coffers are bone-dry, leaving his troops to suffer.”
“He found a way to appease the soldiers he sent to collect Tara,” Reeve said. “He told them to enjoy her and return her in good enough condition for him to wed her.”
“Her father deserves to die,” Duncan said, “along with the soldiers who almost beat Trey to death.”
“That beating makes no sense,” Bryce said, shaking his head.
“I have to agree,” Reeve said, having given it some thought. “Why not just kill him and be done with it? Why beat him and leave him to die? I think Da is right, something is going on.”
“We have plotted the return of the true king for years, and I daresay King Kenneth has plotted just as strongly to see that his throne is not taken from him. Two plots at work, with many people involved. If we have spies, the king certainly has spies—”
“Here among us?” Bryce asked.
“Who else would have stolen that piece of hide relevant to the future king?” Carmag asked and answered. “None in this room. I believe we should be more cautious in our discussions and more aware of those around us. I have asked Neil to keep alert. He spied for us; he could certainly spot another who spies.”
“The time draws near,” Duncan said. “Many wonder if blood will cover the land before all is done.”
A gentle knock sounded at the door, and cautious glances were exchanged. No one ever disturbed them when they retreated to the solar, not even Mara.
“Who goes there?” Carmag called out.
“Bliss,” came the soft reply.
The brothers immediately stood, fearful something was wrong with Trey, and Bryce hurried to the door and opened it.
Bliss entered and, slipping the door from Bryce’s, grasp closed it. “I need to talk with all of you.” She walked to the center of the room.
Carmag offered her a chair, but she shook her head. “I don’t wish to disturb you. You have much planning to do. I’ll say what I have come to say and take my leave.”
“As you wish,” Carmag said, and the men gathered closer to her.
“More goes on around you than you know, and there is one who has spied before and will spy again. But there is another who you think betrays you but does not. This one knows more than any of you know. This one knows the true story of the true king.”
“Who?” Bryce demanded sharply.
“I cannot say,” she said.
