“What I would like to ken is how did they hear of my troubles?” Tormand asked, as he and Simon headed toward the great hall.
“Are ye certain they are here because of these murders?”
“Aye. They saw me nay so verra long ago, so they couldnae have been struck with a searing need to see my face once more.”
The moment Tormand stepped into the great hall, all four of his kinsmen turned to stare at him. His cousins Rory and Harcourt looked amused. His brothers Bennett and Uilliam looked a little wary. They knew their brother did not really want the family getting tangled up in whatever trouble he was in. Tormand’s gaze settled on Walter and his eyes narrowed. His squire was looking suspiciously innocent.
“I think I ken who sent word to my kin,” Tormand said quietly to Simon.
“Weel, dinnae kill him now,” Simon replied, amusement tinting his voice. “I am eager to enjoy my meal.”
“Fine. I will kill him later.”
Tormand stiffened his backbone and strode to his seat trying to act as though he was not about to face an uncomfortable inquisition.
Chapter 5
“Ye need to leave here,” said Bennett the moment Tormand and Simon finished telling them all that had been happening even as they filled their empty bellies. “If ye arenae here then ye cannae be blamed for these murders. All ye need to do is wait until the killers are caught or there is another murder whilst ye are far away and the trouble will be over. They cannae blame ye for something when ye are miles away when it happens.”
It was true, but Tormand did not immediately agree with his younger brother. He was torn. If he was the reason the women were being murdered, leaving might well save a few lives. However, the killer could just as easily follow him wherever he went and begin killing women wherever he settled down.
He felt a twinge of embarrassment to realize that there were not that many places where he could find shelter where there were no women he had bedded or had been suspected of bedding. Even the women at his family’s home could be in danger if he went there. The few women who worked for him or those who worked for his family within their homes had never been his lovers. He had grown up with the strict rule that the men should leave the women working within their households alone. It was a rule very few of his kinsmen had ever broken. That did not mean whoever was slaughtering the women he had bedded would be aware of that rule or believe he had ever followed it. Few people did.
Also, to leave, to flee the area, was an act that held the foul taste of cowardice. He knew that pride was the bitter downfall of many a man, but he could not ignore how his tightened its grip on him at the mere thought of running away from this trouble. Leaving could also harden the growing suspicion that he was the killer, especially if the killings here ended when he left because the murderer had followed him.
“I dinnae think that would be a good idea,” said Simon, relieving Tormand of the chore of explaining why he was about to say nay to what sounded like a very sound plan. “Nay yet. It would look too much like he was fleeing justice for his crimes. There may yet come a time when it would be wise for Tormand to go into hiding. I have even chosen a place for him to go.”
Tormand looked at his friend in surprise. “Ye have?”
“Aye. I thought it a wise precaution. With each woman murdered suspicion about ye spreads a little wider.”
“I cannae believe that anyone would ever think I could do that to any woman.”
“Most dinnae. ’Tis why ye havenae already had to flee an angry mob. But, the fact that ye have been the lover of each woman is slowly eating away at that belief. Such coincidence was easily accepted with the first murder, but now there has been a second and a third. And all of them were your lovers. Since we havenae gotten any closer to the killer I fear there will soon be a fourth. I think we both ken there is a verra good chance that that woman will have been your lover, too.”
“But if he wasnae here when that happened,” began Uilliam, his green eyes filled with concern for his brother’s safety.
“As I said, it could easily look as if he fled because he was guilty,” Simon interrupted.
Tormand sighed. “That is what I was thinking.”
“Better to be thought guilty for a wee while than to be dragged to the gallows,” snapped Bennett, and then he took a deep drink of ale as if he tried to cool the anger heating his blood.
“I willnae allow him to hang,” Simon said in the calm voice that had the ability to reach out and soothe those who heard it. “I have his escape carefully planned and, since I ne’er leave his side, I will be able to send him on his way without a moment’s hesitation.”
“Ah, and here I thought ye were staying so close to me because ye were so fond of me,” murmured Tormand.
Ignoring him, Simon continued, “There is also the fact that the killer could follow Tormand if he went somewhere else and then women would begin to die there.”
“Are ye so verra certain that this is all connected to him in some way?” asked Harcourt, his amber eyes holding the hard look of a warrior ready to go to battle.
“We have no proof,” replied Simon, “but I do believe it is. There are a few lasses left in this town whom he hasnae bedded.” A smile flickered over Simon’s mouth when Tormand grunted in annoyance over that remark. “But none of them have been killed. ’Tis why the belief that it is naught but coincidence is fading a little more each day, and with each death. Two of the women’s husbands dinnae openly accuse Tormand, but they do naught to quell the growing suspicions, either. The only husband who might have spoken up for him has returned his wife’s body to their lands and he will undoubtedly stay there awhile, if only to comfort his wee sons.”
“The more ye talk the less there seems we can do to put a stop to this.”
“We can only keep hunting. Aye, ’tis maddening that we have gained so little from all our work, but one thing I have learned from all my years of solving such puzzles is that a mistake will be made. Something will be found that will lead us closer, mayhap e’en to the killer’s door. Someone will see something or hear something that will help us find this beast. Or the killer will become so arrogant that he will no longer take such care not to be found.”
“Or we can take something ye found near one of these women to the Ross witch and let her do a seeing,” said Walter, shrugging as everyone stared at him.
Simon pulled the bone hairpins he had found out of his purse and studied them. “’Tis a thought, Walter. One I believe Tormand has had, especially since he has seen the witch.”
Walter grimaced, making his face even more homely than it usually was. “That may nay be good.”
“Ye kenned what she looked like?” Tormand asked his squire.
“But first,” Simon said, quickly interrupting what was obviously going to be an argument, and looking at Tormand, “we need ye to make a list of all the women ye have bedded in this town and those living near at hand. Mayhap the ones who travel with the court as weel.”
“The women who arenae dead willnae like me telling what they may have kept secret from everyone,” said Tormand.
“I fear there has been little secrecy about your many frolics. I believe I could probably make a fairly accurate list myself simply from the gossip I have heard, but a few women may have been discrete. Do ye ken, they treat bedding ye almost as if it is some trophy they have won?”
Tormand felt a blush heat his cheeks and glared at his kinsmen when they all snickered, before turning his glare upon his friend. “Then I will make a list, but nay tonight.”
“Nay. Tonight is for resting both our bodies and our wits.”
Despite