Robena's face had grown dark with her anger as his refusal became apparent. Her voice was low and measured, but deadly as she spoke. "Do you think your master is the only man to have ever ridden between my thighs, you dolt? My brothers broke me in before I married, although my stupid husband believed me a virgin because I screamed when he first had me. And of course there was the skin of chicken's blood for the sheets." She laughed. "The king even lusted after me when we were at court, but forbore my company for his friendship with my husband. Fortunately the Earl of Huntley was not so scrupulous. He was a vigorous, if uninspired lover. But now I am home again, and your master bores me. I must have a lover, and you could please me, Beinn. Come now, and lie with me. Fuck me hard and deep. I will not tell if you won't." She smiled seductively at him, beckoning with her finger.

He had turned and left the stables. He was at first confused as to what to do. He had had his hands on his lord's wife, fondled her breasts, stroked her cunny. Should he go to Father Donald and confess this monumental sin? He was close to weeping with his shame and the dishonor. He sought out the priest, who listened quietly and then spoke the words of comfort that Beinn had needed to hear.

"You are not to blame, my son, for this transgression. The woman tricked and entrapped you, and while you may have fondled her while her identity was unknown to you, you left off upon seeing her face. I have long suspected that the lady was not the wife our laird deserves, but until he learns the truth they are joined under God's law. For the sin of your unbridled lust, however, I must punish you. You will be present at the early Mass for a month, and at Vespers as well, Beinn. And you will keep your own counsel, saying naught to the laird."

"What if she accuses me of assaulting her?" Beinn asked Father Donald, still frightened by his encounter with Robena.

"She will say nothing, Beinn, for she does not want her husband suspicious of her, and she is obviously seeking a lover to amuse her. She chose you because among the laird's men you hold a small rank. She will bother with none of the rest of them, for the lady believes them beneath her even as you are," Father Donald had told him.

And of course, Beinn thought as he lay watching the cottage, she had indeed sought out a lover, who had turned out to be her husband's wicked half brother. When he had caught them he had killed his sibling. Many thought he had killed Robena too, but Beinn knew better, for he had helped his master. After the laird had buried his half brother he had taken his captain into his confidence. They had ridden out, found Robena, and transported her to a convent, where she was incarcerated while the laird made other arrangements for his adulterous wife.

The evil bitch had murdered some poor beggar woman she had found on the moor, and was exchanging clothes with her when they had caught up with her. They had half hidden the body to decompose and be found at a later date when the laird would identify it as Robena's and the matter would end. Then the laird had installed Robena in the cottage below with the two servants he had found in Edinburgh. His master had not wanted any other of his people to know Robena still lived. He had cleverly avoided any feud with the Ramsays in this way, and only Beinn knew his secret.

It was a confidence the big captain wished he did not carry. But then he considered that was the real punishment for his sins. The darkness set in, and he stood up, no longer fearful of being seen. The lights from the cottage twinkled invitingly. He wondered who the man in the door had been. Was it Sir Udolf? He would watch for another day or two and then return to Dunglais to report to his master. He worried that if it was the Englishman he would have told Robena things it was better she not know. And if Be inn knew Robena Ramsay he knew she would be seeking revenge. The lights in the cottage began to go out but for the main room.

Sir Udolf Watteson came to stand in the door once more. His belly hurt, and he was feeling very sleepy.

"What is it, my lord?" Robena asked, coming to stand near him.

"Suddenly I am not well," he told her. "Was the capon fresh, madame?"

"The food was all quite fresh, my lord, and as you can see I am suffering no ill effects. Drink a bit more of your wine," she encouraged him. "Perhaps it will help."

He gulped down the bit remaining in his cup and, holding it out to her, said, "More!"

"Alas, my lord, you have had more than enough," Robena told him. "You drank the second pitcher all by yourself. Soon you will sleep, but it is a sleep from which you will not awaken, I fear. If you believe in God, Sir Udolf, make your peace with him now before it is too late." And she smiled at him sweetly.

"What have you done?" he gasped.

"Killed you," Robena replied sanguinely.

"Why? What have I done to you?"

"You poor old fool," Robena said, rubbing his balding pate in an oddly comforting gesture. "You have done nothing to me. But I cannot have you going to Dunglais. By telling me of my husband, his whore, and their bastards, you have done me a great service. Now I shall have the revenge on Malcolm Scott I have been seeking all these years since he incarcerated me out here on this lonely moor. I will not let you take that from me. Say your prayers, my lord, for you will be shortly dead."

The darkness was reaching up to claim him. Sir Udolf could actually feel his heart slowing. He was overcome by a sudden weakness and fell to his knees, struggling for breath, and finding it a final time, he grated out, "God curse you, lady!" Then he collapsed and died on her doorsill.

"Rafe! Come and bury the fellow before he begins to release his bowels and stink," Robena Ramsay said. She yawned, and turned back into the cottage.

On his hillside Beinn had watched the pair as they stood in the door. He had been very surprised when the man had collapsed. Robena had shown no signs of distress, nor had she cried out. Instead she had turned away and disappeared back into her home. A moment later the light in her second-story chamber had flickered brightly. A shadow of another man, Rafe, came into the cottage entry. He picked up the body and threw it over his shoulder. Beinn could see the shadow of something in his other hand. A shovel?

The moon was beginning to rise over the hills, but it was not yet bright enough to light the region. Keeping to the shadows, Beinn slipped down the hill so he might more closely observe Rafe. The lack-wit shambled up a small rise near the dwelling and, laying the body down, he stripped it of boots and clothing. Then, with a foot he pushed it, and it disappeared. There was obviously a predug gave there Beinn realized as Rafe began filling it in with his shovel. Finished with his task, Rafe walked upon the grave several times in order to tamp down the earth. Then, shovel over his shoulder, he returned down the rise and went into the little barn where Beinn knew he slept with the beasts.

The Dunglais captain sat down in the heather and waited. All the lights in the cottage were now extinguished. He waited. The moon rose slowly, slowly, and then it was filling the sky. About him Beinn could see everything with clarity. He arose now and found his way to the new grave. Then he began digging with his big hands.

Once he was past the top layer than Rafe had stamped down it was easy if tedious work. He did not seek to open the whole grave. He just wished to see the face of the man who had been so unceremoniously buried there this night. Eventually he was able to make a place for himself to stand and then kneel. Carefully he pulled the earth away, going deeper and deeper into the dirt until finally his fingers reached the body. Brushing the dirt away with his hands, he was at last able to see the face of the unfortunate man. It was Sir Udolf Watteson. Beinn nodded to himself. Poor devil, he thought, and crossed himself.

Then he climbed from the grave and began filling it in again. This was more tedious work, especially without a shovel. But when the dawn came the grave could not look like it had been tampered with or suspicions would be aroused. His horse awaited him on the hillside, and when he had finished he would begin his return to Dunglais. There was no reason to remain observing the cottage any longer, and the laird should know what had transpired. Sir Udolf's lips had been a bright purple and swollen. It was obvious he had been poisoned. How many others had the bitch Robena Ramsay murdered? Were there other graves here on this little rise? He bent to smooth the last bit of earth into place, and as he did he felt a sharp pain touch the back of his head and a bright white light flashed before his eyes as his legs gave way and he fell to the earth.

When Beinn awoke once more he found himself in a small chamber upon a bed to which he seemed to be manacled hand and foot. And he was shocked to see he was completely naked. His head hurt fiercely, and he was very thirsty. As his eyes focused more clearly he saw Rafe sitting in a corner staring blankly at nothing. "Oi!" he called out to the man. "I need water, and undo these damned chain!"

Rafe shambled to his feet and picked up a leather water bag. He pushed the spout into Beinn's mouth so he might drink. "Mistress says you must stay," he told the other man. Then he grinned. "Mistress has been wanting a fine cock for her cunny for many weeks now. She says you have a fine cock," he chuckled.

Beinn swallowed down the water. It tasted bitter, but it was drinkable. When he had finished he pulled his head away. "Your mistress is a murderous bitch," he said.

"Aye," Rafe agreed, "she is. But she is the mistress. I will go and tell her you are awake. I'm glad I did not kill you, Beinn. The mistress is much happier to have you alive than dead. She gave me sweets as a reward." Then he departed the chamber.