Judgement
A sennight after the tumultuous events, Darroch visited Rory, hoping he was fit enough to make a decision regarding Tremaine and Ghalla.
He’d asked the jailers to keep him informed rather than bothering his wife with news of the woman. They reported that she never slept and refused to eat. She paced the narrow confines of the cell muttering and mumbling, begging for her potions. “Forgive me, my lord, but ’tis a challenge to keep up with the mess she makes,” one guard told him. “She’s either retching or…”
Darroch held up a hand. “I understand.”
Tremaine’s body was reportedly beginning to deteriorate in the ice house.
“Ye look weel,” Darroch told Rory when he entered the chamber.
“I must be getting better. Fanny’s given permission for me to sit in a chair for part of the day,” his father-by-marriage replied with a sigh.
“Have ye decided what to do with Tremaine and Ghalla? I’ll see yer wishes are carried out.”
Rory eyed him. “I’m glad ye wed Isabel. Ye’re a good mon.”
“I’m lucky to have her, my laird.”
“Dinna allow anyone to come betwixt the two o’ ye. That was my mistake.”
“I’d trust Isabel with my life,” Darroch replied, feeling more at ease with a man he’d dreaded meeting.
“And yer trust wouldna be misplaced. She’s a good lass. Anyway, let’s see first to burying Tremaine before I decide what to do with Ghalla. The village graveyard should suffice. What’s yer opinion?”
“I agree. He canna be buried with yer kin.”
Rory sighed. “All this grief caused by a case of mistaken identity.”
Darroch decided to say nothing about what he suspected was Ghalla’s descent further into madness. “Will ye allow his mother to attend the burial?”
Rory stroked his beard. “Aye. I suppose.”
“I’ll see to it.”
*
Isabel and Kyla kept vigil with Rory while Tremaine’s funeral was proceeding. She was grateful Darroch had seen to the preparations, and understood why he felt someone from the family should witness the event. She’d wished Tremaine dead and believed it would be hypocritical to pretend sorrow at his passing.
Surprisingly, Fanny decided to attend.
Kyla was recounting the tale of Cú Chulainn and Dun Scaith Castle to Rory after trying unsuccessfully to pry the secret of the Faerie Flag from him.
“Her grandsire must be proud o’ the bright wee spark,” Isabel’s father remarked when the bairn wandered off to play with Blue. “Beaked toads indeed. She’ll keep at me about the Flag, I’ll warrant.”
Isabel had told him nothing of the friction between Darroch and his sire, but perhaps this was the opportunity. “Stewart MacKeegan refuses to recognize she exists,” she said softly.
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Because she’s a bastard?”
“Perhaps. She wouldna speak for a long time. In fact, ye were one of the first people she ever spoke to when she asked about the Faerie Flag.”
He chuckled as he watched Kyla chatting with Blue. “Hard to believe now.”
“I hope when we journey to Dun Scaith, he’ll change his attitude. I plan to challenge him about it.”
“I ken a thing or two about stubborn auld men,” he warned. “Tread carefully.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of Darroch and Fanny followed by Coira who carried a tray of tumblers.
“We need whisky after what we’ve witnessed,” Fanny explained.
Darroch handed Rory a tumbler. “Ye’ll appreciate it too after we tell ye what transpired.”
Rory sniffed the amber liquid. “Must be dire if Fanny’s allowing me whisky. Let’s hear it then.”
Darroch sat and pulled Isabel onto his lap. “I didna recognize Ghalla when they brought her from the cells.”
“Like a draugr, she was,” Fanny confirmed, sipping her whisky. “No flesh left on her bones.”
“What’s a draugger?” Kyla asked innocently.
“Ye should go with Coira and find a nice juicy bone for Blue,” Isabel suggested, not wanting to get into an explanation of the undead.
“Come on, lass,” Coira said.
There was no argument and everyone breathed more easily once the bairn was gone.
“I had instructed the lid be left loose,” Darroch explained. “As I expected, she demanded to see her son’s body.”
“That’s when the wailing began,” Fanny continued. “She keened like a banshee all through the minister’s brief committal. The clanking of her chains made it seem even eerier.”
Darroch swigged his whisky. “Eerie doesna come close to describing what happened next.”
Fanny shivered. “Aye. When they lowered the coffin, Ghalla threw a clod of earth onto it…” She paused and drained the tumbler. “…then leapt into the grave.”
Isabel feared she’d misheard. “What?”
Darroch pulled her against his chest. “When the men tried to lift her out, they couldna.”
“She resisted?” Rory asked.
Fanny and Darroch stared at each other, both seemingly reluctant to finish the tale.
“She was stone-cold dead,” Darroch finally said.