Cluny nodded. "Ye've got to escape, m'lady."

"There's no way out but the tower door, Cluny."

"If ye had some kind of rope," came the reply, "ye could come out the window, and down the side of the tower. "

" 'Tis possible! Good for ye, Cluny! One of ye stay by the tower at all times, and either I, or young Nan will communicate with ye. I'd best go back now lest they hear us."

"Not to worry, m'lady. They won't hear anything in this storm. In case ye can't get back to us, try tonight. We'll be waiting for ye whenever yer able." He slipped back into the shadows of the stables.

Aidan closed the window, and turned to Nan to explain her conversation to the girl. "It will take courage to do this," she said, "but I will go last so ye need not be afraid."

"But how can we transport the baby?" asked Nan.

"What if we tied two ropes about the cradle, and lowered her that way," Aidan suggested.

Nan nodded. "The baby must go first, m'lady, for if, G.o.d forbid, we're caught at it, one of us can hold them off while the other lowers the bairn safely."

"I'll need a weapon, and where are we going to get enough rope?" Aidan wondered.

"There is rope in the stables, m'lady. If yer man could bring it to the base of the tower just below our window we could make a length from the sheets upon the bed, and they could attach the rope to it for us to pull up!"

"Nan, yer a very clever girl!" Aidan praised the wet nurse. "Now where can I get a weapon?"

"I have one," came the surprising reply.

"Ye do? Then why didn't ye use it?"

"I was afeared, m'lady. I'm only a serving girl." She moved across the small room, and feeling along the wall pulled a stone loose to reveal a deep recess in the tower wall. Reaching in Nan pulled forth a dagger with a good six-inch blade on it. It was silver, and the handle had been enameled over the silver in a Celtic design of black, and yellow, and red. She handed it to Aidan.

"Where did ye get this?" Aidan asked the girl.

"Lord Eamon was drunk one night, and fell asleep at the high board. I saw him there in the very early morning, and there before him on the table was the dagger. I stole it. I thought, perhaps, that I might use it against Master Cavan, but I had not the nerve. What will ye do with it?"

"Kill Cavan FitzGerald," said Aidan quietly, and the young wet nurse sucked in her breath sharply, her eyes widening at Aidan's bold words. "I have no choice," Aidan continued. "They have schemed to marry me to him today, and there is no way in which I can escape it; but I'll he d.a.m.ned if I'll let him lie with me! We'll escape tonight, Nan, after I've killed the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, and everyone is celebrating my grandfather's apparent cleverness in forcing me to his will. I have an old score to settle with Cavan FitzGerald," and then Aidan told the servant of everything that had happened since her father's death almost three years ago. Nan goggled and gaped as Aidan unfolded her tale for never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined the things that Aidan now spoke of to her.

When she had finished her story she said to Nan, "Ye must learn for me which room is to be the bridal chamber, and then when they are feasting before the bedding, place the dagger beneath the pillows for me. Do not do it sooner lest someone else find it. Did not Eamon miss his blade, Nan?"

"Aye, and a great fuss he made about it, but his wife said he probably lost it as he was always losing everything. They did not consider for a moment that any servant would have taken it for the poor souls here are as frightened of their masters as I have been; and they certainly never considered that I took it." She gave a little smile. "I wish I had been brave enough to stick it into him, and then, m'lady, ye'd not have all this trouble."

Aidan smiled back, and she patted the girl's hand in friendly fashion. She spoke coolly enough of killing Cavan FitzGerald, but it frightened her more than being forced to wed with her cousin. It was a terrible sin that she was contemplating, and yet she could think of no other way to escape him. She had no herbs with which to drug him into a deep sleep, and she knew that she would never, could never, yield herself bodily to him. The mere thought revolted her. She thought of the misery that Cavan FitzGerald had caused her and Conn. His cruel actions had been responsible for the loss of her first child, and her enslavement in Turkey, her brutal treatment at the hands of the Sultan Murad. Worst of all, however, was her own state, her inability to enjoy the pa.s.sion that she had once shared with her darling Conn. Cavan FitzGerald's dearh might not restore her to the innocent she once was, but he would never endanger her, or those about her again. He must be killed! She hardened herself to the harsh fact, and prayed that G.o.d would forgive her, but if he did not she accepted the responsibility of what she was going to do this night.

A cursory knock sounded upon the door, and before she might give permission for those without to enter, Bridget came in carrying the dark green velvet skirt which she had managed to restore to some semblance of order. "Get a fresh shirt on," she said brusquely, "for they're ready to begin in the hall. The old skinflint, yer grandsire, has even opened his wine cellar tonight to the entire household. For that rare treat, I thank ye."

"Maybe I can get drunk," said Aidan with a chuckle, "and rob the b.a.s.t.a.r.d of his wedding night."

Bridget cackled, showing blackened and rotting teeth. "At least 'twill dull yer senses, lady, but ye'll not rob Master Cavan of his prize, I'll vow. I've never seen a bridegroom so eager to f.u.c.k his bride."

"And where is the bridal chamber in this pile of moldering stones?" Aidan demanded haughtily.

"The old man is giving ye his own chamber!" she reported with a perverse pride. " 'Tis just above the hall, and I've changed the sheets meself for ye. If that is all, lady, I'll tell them yet coming."

Aidan nodded. "Nan, in the saddlebag, a clean shirt."

Bridget shuffled from the room, and Nan handed Aidan the clean shirt. A fragrant, dried sprig of lavender fell from the silk as it was unfolded, and bending Nan picked it up.

"I'll put this on the pillow in the bridal chamber so ye'll know that I've placed the dagger successfully, m'lady. Then I'll see that little Mistress Valentina is well fed so's she'll sleep tight for her escape. She's a predictable little 'un. If ye fill her belly good, there ain't nothing that'll wake her until morning when she's hungry again. She's a good baby, she is."

Aidan smiled. "Remember to tell Cluny where the rope is," she said as she put on the velvet skirt, and belted it with her own belt. The fresh scent of her shirt cheered her as she b.u.t.toned it to the neck, but then on second thought she undid the first three b.u.t.tons. She could put Cavan well off his guard by offering him a good view of her charms. That, the wine she intended plying him with, and his own lecherous thoughts of the night to come would all serve to aid her in her plan to commit murder. She shivered briefly at her own thoughts, and with an encouraging smile at Nan she left the tower room, and walked down the winding staircase to the hall.

From the noise she could tell that the celebration was well under way. She stopped a moment, and steadied herself against the stone wall of the tower. Drawing several deep breaths she calmed her thumping heart, and shaking knees. Then she saw Conn's ring upon her finger, and she drew it off lest they steal it from her, placing it in the safety of her skirt pocket. Then continuing the short distance left to the hall she entered the room.

"The bride! The bride!" screeched Eamon's wife, a gaunt woman with a sly look about her. She hurried forward saying to Aidan, "Unbind yer hair, niece."

"Why?" Aidan demanded. "I am no maid, and Cavan well knows it."

Moire FitzGerald ignored her, and with bony, clumsy fingers undid the heavy braid of Aidan's hair, and running her fingers through it fluffed the bride's beautiful tresses into a more pleasing appearance. "There," she said satisfied, "now ye almost look beautiful."

Aidan laughed at her. "My wealth is beautiful, and it is that that this family seeks to possess and control. I could look like a frog, and Cavan would wed and bed me."

To her surprise her aunt lowered her voice saying, "Guard yer tongue, girl! Ye know FitzGeralds aren't afraid to beat their women, and most of them are mean b.a.s.t.a.r.ds when in their cups." Then taking her niece by the arm she led her over to the high board which had been converted into a temporary altar for the ceremony.

Aidan's glance swept about the hall. It was not a big room, and it was filled now with family and servants. Most, she noted, were men; the only women being her aunt, Eamon's two daughters-in-law, his half-grown daughter, Maeve, and two other older serving women. They'd all overindulged on wine, she decided, and the men were already on their way to being drunk. She wondered if the cold-eyed priest would allow himself the luxury of overindulging. Right now he was the only one in the entire hall with the exception of herself who could lay claim to being sober.

"Let us begin," said Father Barra FitzGerald in a stony voice.

Aidan and Cavan were brought before him, and the ceremony began, but Aidan paid little heed to what was being said. It was the only way she could maintain her calm for if she seriously considered what was happening to her now she would have panicked entirely. They had placed her hand in Cavan's at the beginning of the ceremony, and he squeezed her fingers cruelly when she was required to speak. Finally the rite concluded they were p.r.o.nounced man and wife.

A cheer went up from the a.s.sembled FitzGeralds and their servants and grabbing at his bride Cavan glued his mouth to hers in a hard, wet kiss. Angrily Aidan pulled away from him, her hand flashing out to make contact with his cheek. Stunned his own hand reached up to finger his injured face, and a dull flush crept over his visage.

"The money, Cavan," she hissed at him, "the money is what ye want!"

"Nay, b.i.t.c.h, I want it all!" he snarled back. "I want the wealth, aye, but I want ye also. I have from the moment I first laid my eyes on ye! Tonight I'll take some of the fight out of ye, ye may be certain!" He touched his cheek again. "Ye'll pay for this, wife." Then clamping his hand cruelly about her wrist he dragged her up to the highboard where the servants had already cleared away the trappings of religion to replace them with a wedding banquet of sorts.

There was a side of beef that had been roasted over an open fire, and several capons that tonight had a sweetish sauce upon them, and several meat pies, rabbit, Aidan guessed, and wonder of wonders a bowl of little onions and lettuce that had been braised in wine. There was plenty of fresh bread, b.u.t.ter, and cheese, and of course, wine from Rogan FitzGerald's carefully h.o.a.rded supply. There was no bridal cake for there had been no time to make one; and besides it was beyond the meager talents of the household women.

Aidan ate carefully, choosing beef and the vegetables and some bread. She also when no one was looking managed to slip a small loaf and some cheese into the pocket of her skirt, feeling Conn's ring as she did so. It gave her courage for what was to come.

Cavan FitzGerald could barely keep his eyes off the woman he claimed as his wife. Her fine silk shirt was open three pearl b.u.t.tons, and he had an excellent view of her magnificent t.i.ts. He didn't dare to touch her again in public lest she attack him, and shame him before his relations once more. Soon she would be in his power, and then he intended availing himself of her wonderful body, and exercising his husband's rights to the fullest. He wanted to know every bit of her for before he killed Conn O'Malley he would enjoy describing to Conn just how he had f.u.c.ked Aidan, and how she had responded. He had no doubt of the response for he had been sending women into swooning fits with his lovemaking since he was barely thirteen. It was a very satisfying talent to possess.

Several hours pa.s.sed, and Cavan realized that if he drank much more wine he would be unfit to consummate his marriage this night, and that was a pleasure he had long awaited. He had eaten everything that he could, and had listened contentedly to his cousin Eamon's third son who was a bit of a bard, and now he was ready for his bed. Clamping a hard arm about Aidan he whispered in her ear, "Get ye to the bridal chamber, and prepare yerself for my coming. I'll not be long, b.i.t.c.h, so do not dally!" Then leaning over to Eamon's wife he said, "Get her ready, Moire. I'm not of a mind to wait any longer."

With a scornful glance at him which he didn't miss Aidan arose and walked from the hall and up the stairs, Moire and her two daughters-in-law and her daughter in her wake. When they reached Rogan's chamber on the floor above she was relieved to see a sprig of lavender on the pillow as she entered the room.

"Well, la.s.s, off with yer clothes," said Moire FitzGerald briskly. "Yer no maid to be shy now." She reached out, and undid the belt, and waistband that held the velvet skirt in place.

Aidan calmly stepped out of it, and undid her shirt as her aunt pulled down her petticoats. "Give me my nightrail," she said as she sat down so they might pull her boots off.

Moire FitzGerald s.n.a.t.c.hed up the nightrail that her daughter was holding out. "Ye'll not need that, Aidan my girl! He'll only tear it off ye, and 'tis a pity to ruin a perfectly good garment. Into bed with ye now!"

The protest died on her lips. What did it matter? she thought. Better to get this over with, and let them go back to their drinking. She certainly had enough experience at this point to hold Cavan FitzGerald off long enough to slay him. Without a word she climbed into the large bed, but when her aunt reached out to fluff the pillows she stayed her hand saying, "Nay, aunt, I hear the men coming now. They're fine as they are."

"Yer right," the woman replied, and then tossing Aidan's clothing carelessly on a nearby chair, she herded the other three females from the room before Cavan could arrive to find them there.

Quickly Aidan felt beneath the pillow, and the blade of the dagger p.r.i.c.ked her finger. "G.o.d's nightshirt!" she swore softly, but the relief in her voice was evident. She sucked her finger to relieve the sting, and examining it was satisfied that there was no telltale blood to give Cavan cause for suspicion. She looked about the room. In the dim light from the fire, and the candle by the bed it appeared to be the best furnished chamber in the entire place which surprised her. Rogan didn't seem a man to be involved with personal comforts, but perhaps the room had been the result of her late grandmother's efforts.

Then she heard the sound of drunken laughter, and stamping in the pa.s.sageway outside, and the door flew open to admit Cavan, and the other men of the family.

"There!" said Rogan FitzGerald triumphantly. "There she waits like a good and dutiful wife, Cavan. Ahh, yer a lucky man, my lad. A lucky man!"

Cavan stumbled across the floor, and yanking the bedclothes back said, "Stand up, Aidan! Stand up, and show the men of this family what fine big t.i.ts ye have," and he pulled her into a standing position to her intense mortification. Cavan's arm clamped about her waist quite successfully imprisoning her, and with his other hand he hefted one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s displaying it to the others. "Look! Look at these beauties, and envy me! At last I've come into me own!"

There was a long painful silence for Aidan as she was forced to stand there on display before these virtual strangers. It took every ounce of her willpower not to turn on the drunken boor who now called himself her husband, and knock him to the ground. Instead she stared directly at Rogan FitzGerald, and was finally satisfied to see him look away, saying as he did so, " 'Tis a lucky man, our Cavan is, but now let us leave him to enjoy the rewards of his wedding night," and the old man shepherded the others out, closing the door firmly behind him as he went.

Pulling her against him now Cavan FitzGerald pressed his mouth against Aidan's stopping her half-choked protests with a smothering kiss. She almost gagged in revulsion as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, but with a supreme effort of will she managed to retain her calm. His hands clamped about her b.u.t.tocks forcing her into even closer proximity with his body which he now rubbed suggestively against hers.

"Jesu," he muttered against her mouth, "yer a real beauty with yer clothes off, Aidan. I never expected it, but yer more of a prize than I thought." Releasing her b.u.t.tocks he slid an arm about her waist again, and began to fondle a breast with his fingers. Then his free hand grasped at her hand, and he forced her down so that she was forced to touch him. "Feel me," he groaned at her. "I'm hard as a stone, Aidan, and hot to give ye a good f.u.c.king, woman."

"And do ye usually f.u.c.k in yer clothing, Cavan?" she murmured at him. "Ye've a wife now, and a bed, and since ye've had a good look at me without my clothes, I'd like a good look at ye." She compelled her mouth into a suggestive smile, and gently loosing his grip on her she sprawled open-legged and temptingly upon her back upon the bed.

Stunned, he looked at her. "I thought ye loved Conn O'Malley," he said suspiciously.

"Oh, aye, and I do," she answered, "but Conn and I were really not wed according to the rites of the Holy Mother Church, were we? You and I, however, are, and there's nothing I can do about it, Cavan. I'm a practical woman, ye see, and besides my stay in Turkey gave me a taste for variety in my men."

"Play me false with another," he threatened, "and I'll beat ye within an inch of yer life, Aidan. Make no mistake about it. I'll not be made a cuckold."

"Ye won't be if yer man enough, Cavan, and I somehow think ye are," she purred at him. "Now, off with yer clothes, man, and let me see yer goods!" Casually reaching down with a hand she stroked herself lewdly, and smiled up at him. "Women get hot to f.u.c.k, too, Cavan."

He tore off his clothes, flinging them heedless of where they fell, and then naked he sat upon the bed's edge, and yanked off his boots. Then standing again he displayed himself to her proudly. "I doubt ye've ever seen better," he bragged grinning down at her.

Aidan almost laughed for Cavan FitzGerald was a man of but average size to her way of thinking, but instead she reached out and caressed his manhood with clever fingers. Her hand smoothed back and forth along his length several times, and then surprised him by slipping beneath his rod to cup and fondle his pouch. For a brief moment his eyes closed, and he groaned softly. "Ye've all the instincts of a wanton b.i.t.c.h," he said.

"Would ye rather I cry and make ye force me? I'll wager yer Spanish wife said her rosary when ye were atop her. I'll not say my rosary," she taunted him. "I'll tell ye instead all the ways I know to please a man. Secret things that I learned in the harem, Cavan; and I'll tell ye what pleases me. Ye want to know those things, don't ye, Cavan?" and she held out her arms to him.

With a hoa.r.s.e cry he flung himself upon her, fumbling with himself as he sought to find his way. Aidan shuddered, unable to help herself, but she knew he would a.s.sume her reaction only pa.s.sion. She wanted to shriek, and push him off her. Her dinner roiled unpleasantly in her stomach, and she was near to vomiting; but she forced herself to remember what it was she must do. She could feel him rubbing his hardness against the opening to her pa.s.sage, and for a moment she felt panic. With a simulated groan of pa.s.sion she wrapped her legs about him, one hand about his neck as with closed eyes she kissed him with what she hoped was great conviction. Slowly her other hand reached back to slip beneath the pillows, and she stealthily felt about for the blade she knew was there. Her heart was hammering wildly for she realized she had but one chance.

With a bellow of l.u.s.t Cavan FitzGerald thrust his hardness into Aidan, and he ordered her thickly, "Work yer hips, ye wanton b.i.t.c.h! Work yer hips!"

Aidan's hand made contact with the dagger handle, and she breathed a sigh of relief as her fingers closed about it. Then she thrust herself up to meet his downward motions as slowly she drew her weapon from its hiding place. "Ohh, Cavan! Ohh, Cavan!" she moaned at him, knowing that he expected some reaction to his frantic thrusts.

He pumped at her hard and fast groaning as he did so, "Tell me no one's ever f.u.c.ked ye better, wanton! Tell me!"

She had managed to bring her arm out and around into striking range. Opening her eyes she checked her position while he s...o...b..red wet kisses against her neck, and humped her with ever-increasing urgency.

"Tell me, b.i.t.c.h!" he begged her.

"Yer the worst lover I've ever had, ye b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" she said with devastating frankness, and then she drove her dagger downward to plunge into his back, and make immediate contact with his heart.

Cavan FitzGerald raised his head in surprise, and he opened bis mouth to speak, but there was no sound. With a supreme effort he lifted himself up, and his manhood, still hard, slipped from her body to Aidan's great relief for she had been afraid he would in his death throes release his seed into her, but he had not. Together in the heavy silence they watched as his firm shaft became naught but a small and flaccid white worm. His look was one of total disbelief, and shock. Then the life fled from his eyes, and Cavan fell dead across Aidan's naked body.

With a speed that surprised even her Aidan pushed his body off her. Backing into the farthest corner of the bed she put her hands over her face, and began to weep softly. For some minutes she couldn't control her shaking. She wanted Conn. She wanted her husband to come and put his warm arms about her, and tell her that everything was going to be all right. Then as the shock began to gradually wear off her, Aidan rose from the bed, and going over to the fireplace took the earthenware pitcher from the hot ashes in the corner and poured the warm water into the basin on the hearth. Adding a few pieces of peat to the fire to build it up a bit, she began to scrub at herself with a small sc.r.a.p of cloth. She wanted to get his smell off her for even now it clogged her nostrils reminding her of the ordeal she had just undergone. Every now and then she glanced over to the bed to look at his sprawling body, to check again to be certain that he was dead, but he was much to her relief.

Opening the carved chest at the foot of the bed she found her split-legged skirt, another shirt, and her underclothing where Nan had promised to put it. With fumbling fingers she dressed herself, and then finding het stockings and her boots where the women left them, she drew them on. She started for the door, but then a thought took her, and going back over to the bed she rolled the corpse over, and withdrew the dagger from his body, wiping the blood off on the bedcovers. She might need that weapon again, she thought, and stuck it in her belt. Then creeping to the door she listened for a moment, but hearing no one, she opened it, and slipping out hurried up the winding staircase of the tower house to the topmost room where Nan and the baby were waiting.

Nan was awake, dressed and awaiting her. She had Aidan's cloak. "I thought ye weren't able to get away, m'lady," she said. "Is he really dead?"

Aidan nodded. "Aye, speak no more of it, Nan. It makes me sick to think of what I've done. Are my men below?"

The girl nodded. "All we need do is let down the sheets, and they'll send the rope back up to us. I don't mind telling ye, m'lady, that I'm frightened to death. 'Tis a fearful drop, it is."

For a moment Aidan thought, and then she said, "Nan, my grandfather's windows are the only ones below this one, aren't they?"

"Aye," said the girl slowly, and then she smiled broadly. "We can go out there, can't we!"

"If the sight of his dead body won't make ye faint, girl, and we can't take the cradle. We'll have to lower Valentina without any protection."

"I can swaddle her, m'lady, and we'll tie the ropes about her middle, and her ankles to lower her. I let her nurse extra long tonight, and she'll not wake, even with the rain."

Together the two women, Nan clutching the baby to her bosom, crept back down the winding staircase to Rogan FitzGerald's bedchamber which had been the bridal suite for tonight. As the door closed softly behind them Aidan turned the ancient iron key in the lock, and the baby put upon the bed, away from Cavan's body, together Aidan and Nan quietly moved a chair beneath the door handle, and the large carved chest against the whole thing. Then they set to work to strip the bed of its sheets which they lowered out the open window to where Aidan's four servants awaited. Quickly Cluny tied two thick ropes onto the sheets, and signaled for them to be pulled back up.

Looking out of the window as this transaction was undertaken, Aidan was glad that she had decided to escape from here rather than from the top of the tower. The drop from here was steep enough. In this room, however, there was little likelihood of their being disturbed as no one would invade the sanct.i.ty of the bridal chamber.

Working silently the two women tied one end of each rope tightly to individual bedposts. It would take more than their light weight on the bed to move it for the bed was an enormous creation of solid oak. While Aidan tested the knots for safety, Nan swaddled Valentina even more carefully than she had been, carefully covering the baby's little face with a light cloth to protect it from the rain. Then together they fastened the ropes about the child, and with great care began to lower her from the window, moving slowly until she had cleared the window entirely, and then letting the ropes down swiftly before the howling wind could catch at the little bundle, and slam the helpless baby against the stone tower. Aidan heaved a sigh of relief as her daughter reached the bottom, and unfastened, was taken into young Jim's arms.

Now it was Nan's turn, and as Aidan tied the heavy rope about the girl she warned her, "Now, no shrieking no matter how frightened ye get. I don't care how loudly the wind is howling, I don't want to take the chance of them hearing us even in this storm. Ye can't fall with the rope about yer waist. Just hold on, and brace yer feet against the side of the tower as ye go down. Ye'll be all right."

White-faced, Nan nonetheless gave her a brave nod, and without even a protest she climbed out on the sill, and pushed off, clutching desperately to the ropes as she swung out. Aidan watched her swiit descent, relieved as Cluny and Mark reached up to help her the final few feet, and then quickly released her. Aidan pulled the ropes back up, and tossing her cloak down to the waiting men, she fastened the ropes tightly about her own waist. With a quick last glance about the room, and a silent prayer for Cavan FitzGerald, Aidan leapt out into the raging storm and gloomy summer twilight.

She was quickly at the bottom, and Cluny was undoing the ropes from about her, grumbling as he did so. "And if ye had waited for himself, yer husband, none of this would have happened. What did ye do with FitzGerald? Get him drunk?"

"Nay, I killed him, Cluny. If I had waited for Conn we would have walked into a trap that would have seen him killed. My dear FitzGerald relations were going to kill Conn, ye dolt! That would have settled the matter for good and all, wouldn't it?" His mouth fell open in surprise at her words, but he as quickly recovered himself as she hissed at him, "Where are the horses?"

"Locked in the stable," came the reply. "The old robber, yer grandsire, and his servants chased us from our shelter several hours ago with the admonition to seek our master out for ye did not need us anymore. We were lucky that we had already stowed the ropes away out here. We can come back for the horses, m'lady, but my advice is for us to go now. Even in this storm they're bound to hear us if we batter the stables in, and besides there are at least half a dozen servants sleeping there. This way we go now, and none the wiser until morning when they finally wonder why the happy couple haven't arisen, and decide to investigate."

"They'll have some fun getting into the bridal chamber," she chuckled. "Nan and I barricaded the door." Then she became serious. "Can we escape them on foot?"

" 'Tis but a few miles to the coast, m'lady, and we've got at least nine hours before they get curious. If we don't meet Lord Bliss on our way, there is a castle there on the coast, owned by Lord Glin, and he's loyal to the queen. We can shelter there."

"How did ye learn that?" she asked, him, once again amazed by Cluny's resourcefulness.

"One of the stable lads liked to talk," said Cluny offhandedly. "Come along now, m'lady, take yer cloak. We'd best be going." He wrapped the garment about Aidan, and drew the hood up to shelter her now wet hair.

"Give me Valentina," said Aidan to Nan. "I can shelter her beneath my cape, and ye have none. I'd have given ye mine, but I am so much taller than ye."

"Wait, m'lady," said Nan. "If I take this sheet, I can make a harness for ye to tuck the bairn into, and then yer hands will be free, and ye'll need them free on this path." Aidan nodded, and Nan swiftly fashioned the harness, and tucked the baby safely inside next to her mother's warm body, and away from the wind and rain.

Then Cluny and Mark leading the way, the two women between them, set off toward the coast along the rocky track that served as a road for the region. The storm had not abated one bit, and now seemed to Aidan, to be growing even stronger. The rain came down in sheets, making it ah most impossible to see more than a few inches ahead of them; and the strong wind blew so hard that they had a difficult time keeping on their feet. Had the gale been any stronger they would not have been able to make any headway at all. They walked in a perpetual gloom that was neither quite night or day it being midsummer when there was only a short period of dark.

Aidan had no fears of their losing their way for as long as they kept to the path they were safe. After they had walked in silence for some time she moved up next to Cluny, and said, "Who is this Lord Glin?"