The inside of the cell was dark, and the sound of something dripping echoed from the furthest corner. The heavy smell of damp mildew and mold tickled Mairi’s nose, threatening to make her sneeze. There was no window, no illumination whatsoever. The only light came from the dim torchlight of the corridor as it cast a small square through the little window
Mairi tried the door handle, jingling it frantically, but it was locked tight. She slammed her fist against it in frustration. Is she even alive?
Mairi peered closer into the tiny room, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Ever so faintly, she could make out the form of a woman’s body curled up on the cold stone floor. Her matted hair spilled into the square of light, and Mairi thought it might have once been a deep golden red despite its current state. She remembered the maid suddenly, the one who had gone missing. She had auburn hair that glinted with golden highlights. The woman was wearing a shift that had once been a shade of white, greying and mottled in the din, and she was wrapped in a moth-eaten shawl of rough spun brown wool.
“Jenna?” Mairi asked again, her voice searching as she hoped for any sign of life. She was about to give up hope, then the tendrils of hair shifted. The form moved, and her head lifted up, her eyes squinting against even the faint light. “Jenna—'tis, I mean me name is Mairi. Are ye—well I ken yer not alright—but can ye speak?”
A very soft, hoarse voice croaked a noise followed by a cough. “Aye. Barely,” she managed to squeak out.
Jenna’s eyes met the light, and Mairi could feel the despair emanating from the captured woman. She moved, causing the clanking sound of chains behind her. A manacle bound her ankle to the wall beyond, just like Euan. Disregarding the noise, Jenna struggled to her feet, inching closer to the small, barred window that separated the two women.
“Listen... Jenna, listen, I will get ye out of there, I promise ye.” Mairi jiggled the lock again. “I just need to find the key.”
“Ysenda.”
Mairi’s heart sank at the name of the old nursemaid. She may have been able to sneak the keys from a sleeping Ruairi, especially after a portion of wine. But Ysenda? That would be another task entirely.
“I understand. I’ll find a way, Jenna.” She reached her hand to the bars, and Jenna did the same. Their fingers barely touched, but it was something. “Ye are nae alone. Yer kin sent someone looking for ye. He’ll help us both, I’m sure.”
The ghost of a smile passed over Jenna’s face at the thought, but she shook her head as if dispelling the hope that threatened to grow inside her breast. “Best to just escape. Save yerself,” Jenna whispered. Mairi wondered how long it had been since the woman had been given water to drink.
“I will nae leave ye.” She looked back along the corridor. She knew she was but one ill-intentioned guard finding her away from being in the cell next to Jenna. The girls were the same, both under the thumb of a tyrannical sadist. “How often does he…” her voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
“Often. I thought ye might be him at first, coming to see me before his dinner.”
Mairi suppressed a gasp, keeping her face neutral. Was this where he disappeared to prior to their feasts? Is this why he was always in such a good mood? She’d always found some comfort in their feast time. Despite the uncomfortable seating arrangement, his mercurial mood was to the gentler side then, more so than when they would retire to his bed chambers more often than not. She cursed herself now, knowing that the reason for her reprieve lay in the pain of another woman. She looked to the end of the corridor and thought about the time. Would Ruairi come here after his hunt? Or would he go about looking for his wife to be? Either way, this was not a safe place for her to linger.
As if reading her mind, Jenna nodded her head weakly. “Go. Donnae let yerself be caught here.”
Mairi squeezed the girl’s fingers. With a resolute nod, she stepped away from the door and made her way out, shutting the door to the corridor behind her.
Ysenda found Mairi in her rooms not long after she’d made her way back to them. Ruairi and the accompanying group had returned with a prize stag in tow, and it would take the kitchens some time to prepare the large roast for the evening’s main meal. Rather than help in the scullery, however, Ysenda had another task for Ruairi’s betrothed to handle.
“She is absolutely refusing to leave her rooms,” Ysenda explained.
I cannae imagine why, Mairi thought glumly to herself, resisting the urge to roll her eyes with every fiber of her being. It was one thing to believe Ysenda was merely blinded to the type of man Ruairi actually was by her close to maternal love for the laird. Learning that she was complicit in the holding of a woman like Jenna made Mairi’s stomach turn. Was Jenna the first? That seemed highly unlikely. How many women have been tortured in that basement room? How many daughters, sisters, cousins, lost and never heard from again?
Ysenda continued, “...perhaps ye can talk some sense into her.”
“I donnae see how I can help. Lady Alesonne barely speaks to me,” Mairi answered truthfully.
“Och, well if ye will nae try, I’m going to have to tell His Lairdship, and I would hate to interrupt him after such a pleasant day. It would surely sour his mood to be pulled from his guests.” Ysenda’s tone was saccharine sweet, a syrup that hid the poison beneath.
Mairi didn’t know how Ruairi treated his mother behind closed doors, but she was sure she didn’t want to subject Lady Alesonne to one of his bad moods. “Fine, I will try me best, if ye think I could possibly help.”
“Verra good, aye, verra good.” The old woman wrung her hands, obviously distracted. Mairi had never seen the woman this high strung. She could only imagine Ruairi was in one of his particularly sour moods. All the more reason to go out of her way to please him. Ysenda glanced at the door and back again. “I had better get back to the servants. Lord kens they barely ken what to do with a hog, let alone a stag. We must put on our best faces for our guests after all.” Ysenda turned to leave, the heavy weight of the castle’s keys thumping ominously against her hip. “Och, and put on something nicer than that before ye come down with Lady Alesonne. Mayhap the scarlet dress with the embroidery I fixed?”
Mairi looked down at the perfectly suitable green dress she was wearing but nodded all the same. “Aye, me lady.”
Giving Mairi one last look over, Ysenda bolted out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Mairi stepped out of her dress, leaving her in only her chemise, and took the requested dress from her wardrobe. Pulling it over her head, she secured the ties on either side of her waist. She quickly undid her long braid, running her fingers through her hair so that it fell in lovely waves around her face. If a red dress and her hair down might calm the laird’s mood, she would make an attempt. Now that she knew what he was capable of, she would make every attempt she could to survive until she could escape.
But not without Euan and Jenna, she reminded herself solemnly. Rescuing them would be more difficult, but it could be done. It had to be.
Smoothing down the fabric of her dress over her curves, Mairi exited her room and made her way to the western wing, where Lady Alesonne spent most of her time. She didn’t know why Ysenda thought she could have some kind of positive influence on Lady Alesonne. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking. Regardless, Mairi would be remiss if she didn’t at least make the attempt of coaxing the woman downstairs for her evening meal, especially if her absence would upset the laird.
Mairi found the door to Lady Alesonne’s rooms slightly ajar. Hesitantly, she knocked on the doorframe, then stepped inside. “Good evening. Lady Alesonne, are ye here?” she asked into the room. She looked about and saw the woman standing before the far open windows. She was dressed in a simple chemise and light blue dress, hair swept up in delicate tendrils at the nape of her neck. She didn’t move but rather continued to stare out at the river water beyond the rampart walls.
“Lady, yer presence is requested,” Mairi explained, stepping further into the room.
Slowly, Alesonne turned her head toward Mairi, her eyes mostly blank. After a moment, they seemed to focus on Mairi, and she could almost feel the intense gaze of the laird’s mother on her.
“Requested?” she asked.
“Aye, milady. By yer son. Ruairi.” Mairi closed the distance between them, reaching her hand out to the older woman and placing it comfortingly against her bicep.
Lady Alesonne’s brow furrowed, and then she nodded. As if coming out of a daze, she shook her head. “I understand. Did Ysenda send ye to me?”
“Aye, milady,” Mairi replied, happy to see the woman coming back to herself. “She said ye were refusing to come downstairs and hoped I could convince ye.”
“Mmhmm.” Alesonne reached up and patted Mairi’s hand on her arm reassuringly. “I have... I have moments, sometimes. The healer calls them fits, but I’m told I donnae lash out or anything of the sort. I just seem to... fade away for a bit.”
Mairi nodded. It was much like her parents were toward the end, only they were in the throes of a fever at the time. “Does it happen often?” she asked.
“Often enough,” she offered a half-smile, her eyes brimming with sadness. “Ysenda donnae understand, ye see. She donnae understand why being away… why not being here… might be preferable I suppose.”
Mairi nodded at the implication of the woman’s words.
“I suspect,” Alesonne ventured, “that ye ken what I mean, though.” Her words were more cutting than Mairi expected, and she retracted her hand quickly.
“I... I dinnae ken what ye are talking about,” Mairi answered, suddenly very aware that she was talking to Ruairi’s mother. She had no idea if this woman was someone she could trust or not, especially if she was not completely of the right mind.
Mairi saw what might have been a jolt of sorrow spike in Alesonne’s eyes, but the look was quickly replaced with one of kind acceptance.
“He is waiting for us, aye?” She didn’t need to specify who she was referring to.
“Aye,” Mairi answered.
The pair walked to the great hall in silence, as comfortable with each other as two prisoners could be while on their way to their jailor.