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Once inside their chamber, Maira closed the door and then rushed over and looked out the open window. It continued to rain. This wasn’t going to make her escape easy.
“Maira, that man is horrible,” said Morag. “What are we goin’ to do?”
“We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”
“How are we goin’ to do that?”
“I don’t know.” She paced back and forth. The guards from Rothbury who escorted them there were already gone. Nightfall was upon them and the storm continued to grow worse. Rain blew in gusts through the window so Maira closed the shutter and turned around. Morag sat on the edge of the bed hugging her arms around her. Her cloak and hair were dripping wet and her teeth chattered.
“You’re cold and wet,” said Maira, ignoring the fact that she was too. She hurried over to the hearth and lit a fire. “Take off that wet cloak and come warm yourself,” she instructed.
“Maira, I’m so tired and hungry,” said Morag. “I want to go back to Rothbury. Nay, I want to go home to Scotland and be with Fia and the bairn, and with my family.”
“I know, Morag. I don’t like it here either.”
Morag wasn’t as strong as Maira and started to cry. “The High Sheriff is angry with ye, but yet he is punishin’ me as well. What are we goin’ to do?”
Maira’s brash actions had caused trouble for Morag. It was something she never meant to happen. One night of being cold and wet and hungry wasn’t something that would break Maira. But Morag needed to be cared for and Maira knew now that she shouldn’t have come on so strong with the High Sheriff so quickly.
“I’m sorry about this, Morag. And you are right that you shouldn’t be punished for something I did. You stay here. Branton will arrive with our trunks soon. When he does, change into warm clothes and get into bed. I’ll be back.”
“Maira, dinna leave me,” said Morag, wiping a tear from her eye.
“I’m going to sneak down to the kitchen to find us some food. I promise I won’t be long.”
“Hurry back. And be careful.”
“I will.” Maira opened the door to find Branton and the young servant boy with the bare feet hauling their trunks to the room.
“Lady Maira, where do you want these?” asked Branton.
“Just put them against the wall inside the room.”
“I will. But where are you going?”
“The High Sheriff has already sent us to our chamber with nothing to eat. I am going to sneak down to the kitchen to find some food.”
“But if the High Sheriff sees you, he’ll be furious,” said Branton.
“Then I’ll make sure I don’t get caught.”
“How will ye do that?” asked Morag, coming to the door.
“I don’t know. I’m not even sure where to find the kitchen.”
“My mother is a cook at the castle,” said the young boy. “I can show ya.”
“What is your name?” asked Maira.
“I’m Tommy.”
“Thank you, Tommy. I would like that. Branton, will you stay here with Morag until I return?”
“I will,” said Branton, hauling the trunks into the room. “Will you bring me some food, too? And some wine or ale?”
“Fine,” she said, taking to the corridor with Tommy. “How old are you, Tommy?” she asked the boy as they walked.
“I’m nine,” he said. “I’m only the son of a servant but hope to someday be a page.”
