there was light and the sound of voices and pans coming from the kitchen below.
“I have some poison,” Dina said close to Sileas’s ear.
“Poison?” Sileas halted and turned to stare at Dina. “How did ye get poison?”
“Tearlag gave it to me,” Dina said. “I went to see her to ask for a charm before I came here. I didn’t tell her where I was going, but she said, ‘A lass as foolish as you is likely to need something stronger than a good luck charm.’ ”
Dina leaned down and reached into the side of her boot. “That’s when she gave me this wee vial. We can pour it in the ale, aye?”
“I don’t want to murder them all,” Sileas said.
“Tearlag said a drop or two will make a man ill.” Dina handed her the vial. “The pitchers of ale will be on a tray by the door. I’ll distract the men in the kitchen while ye do it.”
“How will ye do that?”
Dina laughed. “You’ll see. Nothing could be easier.”
Sileas followed Dina under the low vaulted ceiling of the undercroft into the noisy kitchen. She stayed by the door while Dina crossed the kitchen, hips swaying, toward a beefy man who had a cleaver in his hand and was shouting orders to the other kitchen servants.
He stopped shouting midsentence when he saw Dina coming.
“I’m starving, Donald,” she said with a purr in her voice. She laid her hand on the cook’s shoulder. “Do ye have something… special… for a hungry lass?”
Everyone else in the kitchen paused in the midst of their tasks to watch Dina as she leaned closer to the cook and spoke to him in a low, suggestive voice. Sileas saw a half-dozen pitchers of ale on the table next to her, ready to be taken into the hall. Turning her back to the room, she pulled the tiny stopper from the vial.
How many drops should she put in each? It was hard to guess how much each man would drink from the shared pitchers. Her hands shook as she poured a few drops into each.
“What are ye doing there?” The harsh voice behind her startled Sileas, and she spilled the rest of the poison into the last pitcher.
“Murdoc told her to bring more ale to the table,” Dina said, “so you’d best let her go.”
Sileas lifted the tray and hurried out of the kitchen, sloshing ale. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. It would do no good to poison the ale if she spilled it all on the floor.
Before she could get to the table, men started snatching pitchers from her tray.
“Stop it, ye animals!” she shouted and lifted her tray higher, fearful they would take it all.
She had only one pitcher left when she reached the table—but it was the one with the extra poison. She tried to hide her smile as she set it between Murdoc and Angus.
Another man shoved her aside and grabbed the last pitcher. Fury burned in her chest as she watched ale drip off his chin while he gulped the ale straight from the pitcher.
“Take my ale, will ye?” Angus punched the man in the belly and jerked the pitcher from his hands.
Hope rose in her heart as Angus lifted the pitcher to his mouth—and sank again when nothing came out of the pitcher. Angus threw it against the hearth and commenced to beat the man who took it about the head.
“Get more,” Murdoc said and slapped her behind hard enough to sting through the layers of her gown. “And tell that worthless cook I’ll take my dirk to him if he doesn’t get food up here now.”
She had made a grave error. What she should have done was saved all the poison for Murdoc and killed him. Without him, the other men would run around confused, like a chicken with its ugly head cut off.
Murdoc turned and caught her glaring at him. “What are ye doing looking at me?” he said and slammed his fist on the table. “Go!”
Sileas stood against the wall with Dina, watching the men eat and waiting for them to show some sign of illness. Her time was running out.
She chewed her lip. “Why isn’t the poison working, Dina?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s too soon.”
Sileas jumped when Murdoc stood and banged his cup on the table. When he had the men’s attention, he shouted, “ ’Tis time for a wedding!”
He scanned the room until he found Sileas and then motioned her to come forward. When she did not move, he nodded to two burly men.
“I’ve heard Angus can’t perform unless a woman is screaming and crying,” Dina said, squeezing her hand. “So lie still.”
Sileas looked frantically for a means of escape as the two men came toward her. Despite Dina’s warning, she screamed as they dragged her across the hall to stand before Murdoc and Angus.
“You’ll say your vows now,” Murdoc said.
“I won’t,” Sileas said, meeting his eyes. “If ye couldn’t make me do it at thirteen, ye must know ye cannot now.”
“Perhaps ye will be more willing after the bedding.” Murdoc shrugged. “But if not, all we truly need is a MacKinnon child by ye.”
“My husband Ian will kill ye if ye let a man touch me,” she said. “And the MacDonalds won’t rest while ye hold Knock Castle.”
“Ye are so naive it pains me,” Murdoc said, shaking his head. “Hugh MacDonald and I made an agreement. I
