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“Bearnard,” Freya said, exasperated. “Do you not think I have thought of that already? If I could find a way to do it, I would have set Alex free a long time ago, but I do not think it is possible.” Then something occurred to her. “Are you saying that you think Alex is innocent?”

“No,” Bearnard replied. “I do not think–I know. Now listen to me, Freya, and do not interrupt. We have no time to waste.”

Freya sat down on her bed, facing her brother as he began to speak. Having been given a spark of hope, her heart had begun to race. It was hard to sit still, but she would manage it somehow. Alex’s life might depend on what she found out.

“This business is not Alex’s fault,” he began. “It is a plot that has been entirely concocted by Aidan and Gerald. They want to kill Alex, whom they see as a major threat, take over the MacNeills, and marry you off to someone they deem suitable. By ‘suitable’ I mean someone malleable, whom they can easily bend to their will. James Robertson springs to mind.”

“Indeed,” Freya agreed. “But there are others who are less kind.” She grimaced, then looked puzzled. “But, Bearnard, I gave Alex the chance to tell me the truth and he said nothing. He would not even speak in his own defence. He said nothing at all.”

“He was trying to protect you,” he answered. “The less you knew, the less danger you would be in. Freya, Alex would lay down his life for you.”

Freya was silent. The enormity of Bearnard’s words was just setting in and they stunned her. How could she have been so wrong?

“Anyway,” Bearnard went on, “I heard all this with my own ears. I sneaked in to visit Alex last night,” he began. “I wanted to see how he was being treated and bring him some food. Father had given orders that no one was to see him, but I gave one of the guards, with whom Alex has something of a friendship, a substantial bribe, and he allowed me in.

I realised later that someone else had managed to get in, but not by means of subterfuge. Apparently, the prohibition to entry did not apply to Aidan and Gerald. It seemed that you and I were the only ones not allowed to see Alex.”

Freya was appalled and furious. “Why not?” she asked.

Bearnard shrugged. “I have a feeling that it was not Father who gave those orders,” he replied grimly, “but Aidan and Gerald. I would put nothing past those two.”

“How did he look?” Freya asked anxiously. “Is he being treated well?”

Bearnard looked exasperated. “He is a bit grubby,” he answered, “and is growing a beard, of course, but he looks well enough.”

“Is he getting enough to eat?” she went on.

“I gave him some food, but he does not look as though he is starving,” Bearnard replied. “Freya, I asked you not to interrupt. Please be quiet!”

“I’m sorry,” Freya said regretfully. “Go on.”

“Only Gerald Patterson was there, and he was baiting him and making fun of him,” Bearnard went on. He was obviously becoming distressed by his recollections as his deep voice became husky with emotion. “But he hardly reacted. He was very stoic and barely spoke, even when they called him every filthy name under the sun. I felt very proud of him. He feels far more like my brother than Aidan does.” His voice was bitter.

Freya nodded in understanding and clasped his hand, then squeezed it.

“Anyway,” he went on, “I listened, and the more I heard the more I realised how wicked these two really are. They will not be happy until both the clans are in their hands, and then I think Gerald will want more.”

Despite Bearnard’s request for her not to interrupt, Freya asked fearfully: “What do you mean?”

“Gerald Patterson is not the kind of man who shares,” Bearnard answered grimly. “When he gets what he wants, I think he will turn on Aidan, perhaps even murder him, so that he can have Kilkenrigg, Cairnheugh and all their lands to himself. Do not underestimate his ambition, Freya. He is truly an evil incarnate, but added to that, he can manipulate people, as he has done to poor Aidan.”

“PoorAidan?” Freya said hotly. “Our brother has a will of his own, Bearnard. He can make up his own mind about anything. Gerald did not have to drag him along on a chain to make him cooperate!”

“Do not underestimate his power, Freya,” Bearnard warned. “He is very skillful and very plausible. I know this because he tried it on me. He wanted to turn me against our father, and against you. He has won Aidan over completely, and he is gradually getting father on his side, but it never worked with you and me.” He shook his head and said angrily, “He is a very dangerous man, Freya.”

“I knew that the first time I saw him,” she declared. “I never liked him.”

“I know his plan now,” Bearnard went on. “And so do you. But I have a plan to stop the execution. I need your help, though.”

“Do you really think you can do it, Bearnard?” Suddenly, a shaft of hope, like a bright point of light in the darkness, pierced her soul. “Could we rescue him? I would do anything,anything, to save his life, even give up my own.”

Bearnard shook his head. “That is something I will not allow you to do, Freya,” he stated firmly. “There will be no need for anyone to die, but I do have a plan. I am going to tell you what it is, but we have only three hours or so of darkness, and you can be sure that the execution will take place as soon as the first light is seen in the sky. This time, please do not interrupt!”

Freya nodded her assent and screwed her eyes shut. Staying quiet was against her nature, but for Alex’s sake, she would manage somehow.

* * *

Bearnard approached the entrance to the cells gingerly, trying to make no sound as he walked up to the guard, who was sitting on his rough chair, chewing bread and drinking ale. He was a hefty, bearded man called Davie Lennox, and Bearnard had known him since he was a boy. He was tough, but kind, and he had always liked him.