kenned, then Sir Tormand was going to be drawing very close to a noose around his neck.
From the few people who did visit or talk to her, Morainn had learned a little about the dead women.
Lady Clara and Lady Isabella had each kenned a lot of men, although it appeared that Lady Isabella had been faithful to her husband once they were officially wed. Yet, Sir William had cast his suspicions on Sir Tormand and Morainn knew others would as well. Her visions told her he was innocent, as did all of her instincts, but she knew that did not mean he was safe from hanging for murder. Innocent men had been dragged to the gallows before.
Once dressed, she went to join Walin for their morning meal. She had to do something to try to stop Tormand from going to the gallows. It was what her visions were pushing her to do; she was certain of that. Morainn just hoped that she could come up with some useful plan before it was too late.
It was as they weeded her garden that Walin finally spoke about her dreams. “Mayhap ye should go and talk to Sir Tormand. He is the mon with the mismatched eyes, isnae he?”
“Aye, he is,” she replied as she sat back on her heels and looked at him. “Yet, what could I say to him, Walin? I have dreams about ye, sir? He may have eloquently defended me before that crowd, but that doesnae mean he will give any weight to my visions. S’truth, he may think I but try to catch his interest.”
“Because he is a rutting fool?”
Morainn inwardly grimaced, thinking that it had probably been unwise to say that before Walin. “There is that. But, what could he do even if he did believe in my dreams? He already helps Sir Simon hunt for the Page 25
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killer. He is, I think, nay a mon to flee, either. The dreams that now cause me to scream in the night are trying to tell me who is killing these women, but havenae yet told me enough to help Sir Tormand.”
“Mayhap ye are missing something. That can happen when ye get scared.”
“True, my wee wise laddie. I shall try to study the ones I have had more intently.” Even if they do leave me both terrified and aching with lust, she thought ruefully. “Aye, I must, for I think he is stepping closer to the gallows every day.”
“Morainn!” called a woman from somewhere in the front of the cottage.
“Out in the garden, Nora!” Morainn smiled when her oldest and most faithful friend walked into the garden. “’Tis good to see ye. Let me clean up and we can have some cider, mayhap sit in the shade.”
“That would suit me,” said Nora, as she lightly tousled Walin’s thick curls.
It did not take long for Morainn to join Nora in the shade of the huge beech tree near the corner of her cottage. She handed her friend a tankard of cool cider and joined her on the rough bench made of old logs. Sipping at her cider, Morainn watched Walin play with the cats for a moment and then turned to Nora.
“I am verra pleased to see ye, but I didnae really expect another visit from ye until next week,” Morainn said.
Nora just blushed and held out her left hand.
Morainn gaped at the little silver band her friend wore. “James finally asked ye to wed him? Ye are betrothed?” When Nora nodded, Morainn laughed and hugged her. “There is to be a proper wedding, aye?”
“Och, aye. No hand-fasting for the likes of me. I am marrying up, ye ken, and I want nary a one in the town to question the right of the marriage.”
The glint of stubbornness in Nora’s dark eyes told Morainn the woman meant every word. “James’s family accepts ye then?”
“They do. They are good people and I dinnae fault them for trying to get my mon to look higher for a wife. I am nay some swineherd’s brat, but I am nay as weel-born as they are. Nor do I bring land to the marriage or even much of a dowry at all. But, they do ken love. James’s parents share it, ye see, and they couldnae deny their son the
From the few people who did visit or talk to her, Morainn had learned a little about the dead women.
Lady Clara and Lady Isabella had each kenned a lot of men, although it appeared that Lady Isabella had been faithful to her husband once they were officially wed. Yet, Sir William had cast his suspicions on Sir Tormand and Morainn knew others would as well. Her visions told her he was innocent, as did all of her instincts, but she knew that did not mean he was safe from hanging for murder. Innocent men had been dragged to the gallows before.
Once dressed, she went to join Walin for their morning meal. She had to do something to try to stop Tormand from going to the gallows. It was what her visions were pushing her to do; she was certain of that. Morainn just hoped that she could come up with some useful plan before it was too late.
It was as they weeded her garden that Walin finally spoke about her dreams. “Mayhap ye should go and talk to Sir Tormand. He is the mon with the mismatched eyes, isnae he?”
“Aye, he is,” she replied as she sat back on her heels and looked at him. “Yet, what could I say to him, Walin? I have dreams about ye, sir? He may have eloquently defended me before that crowd, but that doesnae mean he will give any weight to my visions. S’truth, he may think I but try to catch his interest.”
“Because he is a rutting fool?”
Morainn inwardly grimaced, thinking that it had probably been unwise to say that before Walin. “There is that. But, what could he do even if he did believe in my dreams? He already helps Sir Simon hunt for the Page 25
ABC Amber Text Merger Trial v ersion, http://www.processtext.com/abcmerge.html
killer. He is, I think, nay a mon to flee, either. The dreams that now cause me to scream in the night are trying to tell me who is killing these women, but havenae yet told me enough to help Sir Tormand.”
“Mayhap ye are missing something. That can happen when ye get scared.”
“True, my wee wise laddie. I shall try to study the ones I have had more intently.” Even if they do leave me both terrified and aching with lust, she thought ruefully. “Aye, I must, for I think he is stepping closer to the gallows every day.”
“Morainn!” called a woman from somewhere in the front of the cottage.
“Out in the garden, Nora!” Morainn smiled when her oldest and most faithful friend walked into the garden. “’Tis good to see ye. Let me clean up and we can have some cider, mayhap sit in the shade.”
“That would suit me,” said Nora, as she lightly tousled Walin’s thick curls.
It did not take long for Morainn to join Nora in the shade of the huge beech tree near the corner of her cottage. She handed her friend a tankard of cool cider and joined her on the rough bench made of old logs. Sipping at her cider, Morainn watched Walin play with the cats for a moment and then turned to Nora.
“I am verra pleased to see ye, but I didnae really expect another visit from ye until next week,” Morainn said.
Nora just blushed and held out her left hand.
Morainn gaped at the little silver band her friend wore. “James finally asked ye to wed him? Ye are betrothed?” When Nora nodded, Morainn laughed and hugged her. “There is to be a proper wedding, aye?”
“Och, aye. No hand-fasting for the likes of me. I am marrying up, ye ken, and I want nary a one in the town to question the right of the marriage.”
The glint of stubbornness in Nora’s dark eyes told Morainn the woman meant every word. “James’s family accepts ye then?”
“They do. They are good people and I dinnae fault them for trying to get my mon to look higher for a wife. I am nay some swineherd’s brat, but I am nay as weel-born as they are. Nor do I bring land to the marriage or even much of a dowry at all. But, they do ken love. James’s parents share it, ye see, and they couldnae deny their son the
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