Alistair dropped a heavy hand on Jamie's shoulder. 'Buck up, lad. We'll find the
freak and kill him, and then things'll get back to normal again. You'll see.'
Greaves looked disapprovingly at Robbie Brennan as the minstrel helped himself
to a second large snifter of brandy. 'Look at the state of you. I don't know
which makes your hands shake the more, the fear or the drink. The young master
will have need of us soon, and he'll be none too pleased if he finds you the
worse for drink. Get a hold of yourself, man!'
'Go to hell,' said Brennan flatly. 'You're a cold fish, Greaves, and always have
been. I've never seen an honest emotion cross that cold face of yours in all the
years I've known you. It's always been 'yes sir, no sir, can I wipe your arse
now, sir?' I've been with this Family for forty years, long before you came
along, but I've always been my own man.'
Greaves looked at him unflinchingly. 'Is this leading anywhere?'
'When I was a man-at-arms in the Broken Flats campaign, I saw more dead men than
you could imagine in your worst nightmare. I saw them cut down and ripped apart
and piled up in huge heaps under the midday sun, and I never got used to it.
Which is why I came out of that campaign sane when a lot of men didn't. Duncan
would have understood. It's enough to be strong when you have to be. He never
expected a man to be always unmoved and unfeeling, like you. So, right now we've
got a freak running loose in the Tower, out for revenge on all of us, but I bet
at the end of the day I'll still be standing and you'll be crawling on your
knees. Because I know when to bend with the wind, and you don't.'
'You always did have a way with words,' said Greaves. 'But then, that's all
you've got left now, isn't it? Your soldier days were a long time ago. Look at
you, shaking and quivering in every nerve, with your snout buried in your glass.
And Mister Duncan was always so proud of you, and saying what a fine warrior you
were on the battlefield. What would he say if he could see you now?'
'Duncan would have understood.' Brennan drained his glass and straightened up a
little. 'I'll do my bit. You worry about yourself.'
'It's not myself that fills my thoughts, Robbie Brennan. And what worries I have
are not for you. It's the young master, the MacNeil himself, that we should be
concerned about. He had no choice but to reveal the great Secret to all those…
people, but it must not pass beyond these walls. If it were to get out, the
MacNeil would be ruined. It's up to us to make sure that doesn't happen.'
Brennan frowned. 'Just what are you suggesting, Greaves?'
'What I am suggesting, Robbie Brennan, minstrel and sometime friend to the
MacNeil Family, is that we make sure only those we can trust leave this Tower
alive.'
'If Jamie knew what you're saying…'
'He is not to know. It is our job to protect this Family, and do what must be
done for its safety. The MacNeil is too young to understand.'
They looked at each other for a long moment, until Brennan finally nodded and
put down his empty glass.
Holly accepted a snifter of brandy from Lord Arthur, and nodded her thanks. Her
hands were steadying, and some color was finally coming back into her cheeks.
She smiled briefly around her, and then lowered her head again. 'I'm sorry. I'm
not usually like this. It's the shock.'
'It's all right,' said Arthur. 'We understand.'
'There's no need to hover over her like that, Arthur,' said David Brook testily.
'Give the poor girl room to breathe.'
Arthur nodded quickly, and stepped back a pace. Holly gripped his hand firmly,
and reached out to take David's hand too.
'Please, don't argue. I'm feeling better now. Let's get out of here. We can stay
with friends, in the city.'
'We can't leave just now, pet,' said Katrina soothingly. 'You heard your
brother; the wards are up. We can't leave the Tower till tomorrow morning. But
we're perfectly safe here. Nothing can get to us.'
'It'll be all right, Holly,' said Arthur. 'I won't let anyone hurt you.'
David shot him an exasperated look, and turned back to Holly. 'We'll look after
you, darling. It's obvious who the killer is. It's that damned freak Jamie told
us about earlier. All we have to do is track him down.'
'No! That's too dangerous. He might kill you!' Holly gripped his hand hard, as
though to physically restrain him from leaving. David smiled and patted her hand
comfortingly.
'There's nothing to worry about. The freak doesn't stand a chance against all of
us. Isn't that right, Arthur? Marc?'
Arthur smiled, and nodded vigorously. Marc turned and looked at them directly
for the first time. 'We don't know for sure that the freak is the killer. We
have no hard evidence, one way or the other. The killer could be anyone. Perhaps
even one of us.'
There was a long pause as that sank in, and then one by one the others began
looking round the room, their gaze lingering on some faces longer than others.
'After all,' said Marc, 'what do we really know about each other? Even the most
ordinary person can do terrible things, under the right conditions. People
you've known for years can become strangers in a moment, transfigured by a
single insight or a hidden motive. Who is there you can really trust, when you
come right down to it? Some days you can't even trust yourself.'
'You have to trust someone,' said Arthur. 'And better a friend than a stranger.
Take yourself, for instance. We don't know a single thing about you, except for
what you've chosen to tell us. You could have all kinds of secrets, for all we
know.'
'Oh, honestly, Arthur,' said Katrina crushingly. 'If Marc did have something to
hide, he wouldn't have brought up the subject in the first place, would he?
You'll have to excuse Arthur, Marc; his mouth tends to say things before his
brain can catch up. Anyway, I think you're barking up the wrong tree, dear. I've
known Jamie and David and Arthur for years, and they don't have a malicious bone
in their bodies.'
'But Alistair, though; that's different. He claims to be just a distant cousin,
but he seems to know an awful lot about Family history. He knows things even I
didn't know.'
'I wish the Guardian were here,' said Holly. 'I prayed for him to come.'
'Yes dear, we know,' said Katrina. 'But you shouldn't take Family myths so
seriously. Most of them are just legends and fireside tales that have grown in
the telling.'
'The freak turned out to be real,' said Holly stubbornly. 'So why not the
Guardian too?'
'Personally, I have to say I've got a few doubts about Richard,' said David
thoughtfully. 'He seems awfully full of himself, for a minor cousin from Lower
Markham. I didn't even know the Family had branches in that part of the world.
