Michael shook his head.
‘One thing to get killed in an accident, or in preventing a worse accident,’ he said, ‘the colliers all know that happens. It’s part of the trade, as I said. But to be slain deliberately, without warning or mercy, only for the profits — what a fate for a Christian soul!’
‘Her husband and her own sons,’ said Gil’s mother in distaste.
‘And David Fleming’s father,’ said Alys quietly.
‘A vicious woman. There is no end to human wickedness.’ Lady Egidia looked at the sprawled dog. ‘And you and Socrates took her captive between you, Alys?’
‘They did,’ agreed Gil, looking down at his wife with pride. ‘I arrived like a god from the skies thanks to Henry and Michael, and praise be to St Giles the rope only broke when I was at the foot of the shaft, and there I found the two of them standing over Arbella Weir, and David Fleming lying dead.’
‘But what possessed you to go underground alone with such a woman, my dear?’
Alys moved uneasily in Gil’s clasp, and he caught her sidelong look. They had already had that out as they rode across the hill, the two grooms at a tactful distance once they had assured themselves that neither had taken any hurt.
‘I couldn’t find a way to refuse,’ she said, as she had said then, ‘without making her suspicious. I’ve learned a lesson,’ she added. ‘I have never been so frightened in my life. And I was protected, of that I am certain.’ She felt under the folds her skirt, and drew something from her pocket. ‘Gil, I have not shown you this. I turned my heel on it when Arbella attacked me, and so I fell and she missed me. Look what it is.’
It was a fragment of black stone, dull and heavy. On one flat surface, clear in the light from the stand of candles beside them, in delicate, perfect detail, was a fish.
‘You can even see the rays in its tail,’ he said, marvelling. ‘Oh, I agree, Alys, this is no work of human hand. It must be God’s work indeed, set in the stone. But how do you know it was this stone that tripped you?’
‘It was in the right place,’ she said simply, ‘and you can see the mark of my shoe. See on the other side?’
He turned the thing over, and nodded at the scrape on the underside. He was not convinced it was the stone which had tripped her, but it did look like the stone which the man in his dream had given him.
‘You wanted one of these,’ he said.
‘And now I have one,’ she said, and rose to show it to Lady Egidia, who inspected the fish in wonder, but passed it to Michael and returned to the point at discussion.
‘But was Mistress Weir already suspicious? Is that why she demanded you accompany her?’
‘I think she feared Gil was close to her,’ Alys admitted. She returned to her place at his side, and he put his arm round her again, still grateful for the reassurance of her safe, solid presence within his clasp. ‘But she had been less clever than she thought. None of the men was surprised to see her bound, were they, Gil? And I think her granddaughters were more relieved than anything else. Bel in particular must have known a lot of what she was about.’
‘It was only Joanna who made an outcry,’ said Michael ruefully.
‘That was difficult.’ Gil pulled a face, recalling the scene, with Joanna in a hurriedly laced gown, her kerchief half unpinned, first trying to free Arbella and then, as she realized why the old woman was being held, shrinking back in horror.
‘If Arbella truly made a pact with the Devil, as witches are said to do,’ said Alys seriously, ‘I think that was when it came home to her what she has lost by it.’
‘But she has confessed to killing Murray,’ said Lady Egidia. Her grey cat came into the hall, and she made room on her knee.
‘She has confessed,’ agreed Michael, ‘and repeated it just now before witnesses, down in Lanark.’
‘Aye, and what did you use to bargain with her, sweetheart?’ Gil asked. ‘I’m not sure what we’ve agreed to keep secret. It was obvious it was the only way we would get a confession, and we’d no grounds for holding her without one, but I still don’t see what we were swearing to conceal.’
The cat strolled past its mistress and paused, one paw in the air, glaring at the somnolent dog. Alys watched the animals, biting her lip.
‘The real reason she killed Thomas Murray,’ she said at length. ‘That’s what I’ve been seeking out, talking to the folk who knew Will Brownlie and his wife. It wasn’t the question of control of the heugh, though that may have been the demand that tipped the balance. He had guessed something she didn’t want known.’
‘You said that,’ Gil said patiently. The cat stepped forward and sniffed delicately at Socrates’ injured nose. The dog opened an apprehensive eye but made no other move, and the cat put out a small pink tongue and began to wash the bruised and swollen tissue.
‘She isn’t Will Brownlie’s daughter, of course,’ said Lady Egidia. Alys nodded. Gil looked from one to the other of his womenfolk, assailed yet again by a feeling that they could communicate in a way that was closed to him.
‘Who isn’t?’ said Michael. ‘Do you mean Joanna? So whose daughter is she?’
‘Who else?’ said Alys seriously. ‘I think her father may have been David Fleming’s father. There is a William Fleming in the coal-heugh accounts about the time she was born, and Arbella was clearly absent for a time.’
‘And her mother is — ah!’ Gil stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘You mean she sacrificed her lover as well as — sweet St Giles! No wonder she doesn’t want Joanna to know.’ And how had his young, gently reared wife recognized that so quickly, he asked himself. From helle to Heven and sonne to see, nis non so wys.
‘No wonder,’ agreed Alys. ‘It never happens in the romances,’ she added, ‘only in the ballads. I suppose it shortens the tale quite painfully, to have hero and heroine realize too late they are brother and sister.’
‘Brother and — oh, no!’ exclaimed Michael in horror. ‘Oh, the poor souls. What wickedness! To let them meet, and fall in love, and never know — ’
‘And so Matt had to go,’ said Gil, working it out, ‘and Will Brownlie. In case the secret came out.’
‘The man Brownlie can’t have known Joanna’s parentage,’ Alys said. ‘If his wife had still been alive she would have prevented the marriage.’
‘But is it right to keep it secret?’ Michael objected. ‘Such a great sin should be confessed and penance assigned, for the sake of her soul — ’
‘Why?’ said Gil. Michael stopped, staring at him. ‘What benefit? We have no proof of Joanna’s parentage, Michael, only strong supposition. Apart from Arbella, everyone who might have known is dead.’
‘She saw to that, I think,’ said Alys.
‘If there is a sin it was committed in all innocence, it’s hardly mortal. Why add to the poor woman’s un-happiness?’
‘But — ’ the younger man began. ‘Someone should — someone should — ’
‘Talk to your confessor when you get back to Glasgow, if it troubles you,’ advised Lady Egidia. ‘Without naming names, perhaps. But I can assure you now, you and Tib are not blood kin in any degree that matters.’
There was a short pause, in which Michael slowly went first dark in the firelight, then quite pale. He turned to his godmother with his mouth wide open, and she put out an elegant, weather-roughened hand and pushed his chin up.
‘You look like a carp in a pond,’ she said. ‘There is the spiritual relationship to deal with yet, but if you’re still of one mind, the two of you, I’ll talk to your father about it next time he comes home. Likely, between the two households, we can afford a dispensation.’
‘Perhaps Gil can help,’ said Alys diffidently, ‘as head of the family.’
‘I’ve no doubt of it,’ said Gil, recognizing the code in this statement. Michael, apparently quite unable to speak, looked from one to another of them and a grin spread over his face.
‘And if you wait a few days,’ prompted Lady Egidia, ‘you’ll be able to give thanks to our new saint down in St Andrew’s in Carluke town. You realize none of this would have come to light if he hadny come up out of the peat-digging so that you all began asking questions.’