Part Two

The next morning started early for Betia. The wind continued to blow from a northerly direction bringing even a colder temperature. She wrapped herself in her warmest cloak to brave the cold wind. It would not be a good day to begin hunting for clues, yet she was determined to take on the great north wind and travel toward Eastmarch. She gathered what food she had picked from her small garden the day before and the little money she had. Hopefully with her money, she would be able to stay in an inn along the way. Keeping to the main roads was her goal, unless the leads she sniffed out took her elsewhere.

Two of the hostages would be hanged today and for the next twenty-four days if she did not get busy trying to discover the whereabouts of the Willimites. She knew that would be difficult since they kept a low profile and were always mobile. She had no direct knowledge or indication the Willimites had killed Rannulf, yet there was no evidence that they hadn't either. Someone had killed Rannulf, she expected to discover who it was and soon, to keep others from dying needlessly.

The thoughts of friends were on her mind as she opened the door to the wintry world. The wind nearly took her over, but she braced herself and continued on. It hadn't mattered to the men who was taken that day, children, older men and women, even a pregnant woman with her husband. She shuddered to think the young woman might bear her child in the dungeon. Imre would have them both killed, it would serve his purpose. Betia had to set them free.

Widow Claret had been the first to find Rannulf's body parts. She would visit the old lady first before talking with any of the others who had found the rest of his body. The head and one of the quarters were found on her land. Maybe she knew something, maybe she didn't, but Betia was resolved to find out. Claret had gone into hysterics when she saw the body parts. Betia hoped she had calmed down enough to talk with her, it had been several days since the incident.

Lord Camber had sent his men out to talk with the widow along with his own Truth-Readers. They discovered nothing. Nonetheless, Betia had more in mind than just asking questions to see if she was telling the truth. She intended to delve into Claret's mind about the night before to see if she had heard anything unusual or if anything seemed to be peculiar about that night. The problem was getting the widow to consent to her probe. Most of the village did not know she was Deryni. In fact, there were very few Deryni in Caerrorie other than the MacRorie clan.

Betia approached the widow's land with caution. Something might set the woman off again. She needed to keep her calm and quiet so that she could find out any information about the murder. The widow's cottage was just like most of the others, small and built for only one or two occupants. It was set back from the road quite a ways. The widow had some land that she farmed, actually her husband had farmed it until he died she had taken over to keep a place to live instead of having to move to the village. 'She must have gone to check the harvest when she found Rannulf's body,' Betia thought.

The walk from the road to the cottage was muddy. Betia quietly moved to the door. It was quiet inside the cottage. Taking a silent breath, she knocked on the door. Rap. Rap. Rap.

Silence. Betia knocked again. Rap. Rap. Rap. "Claret, Widow Claret. Are you in there?"

More silence. "Who is there?" a gruff voice finally asked.

"Betia from the village," she responded. "I wanted to see how you were doing," Betia said loudly trying to talk through the door. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"What do you want?" the widow asked even more roughly.

Betia realized the voice was closer to the door, probably within an arm's reach. Lowering her voice, "I wanted to ask you about the morning when you found..." pausing not sure of her words. "When you found the body parts." The truth would be the easiest way to get through this.

"Why?"

"Claret, please open the door, it is cold out here," she said pulling her cloak tighter around her.

The door opened slowly, creaking every inch of the way. The widow's face peered from behind the door. "I had to see if there was anyone with you. It is not safe, especially when you find what I found. Next time, it will be me."

Betia waited patiently as the widow opened the door to allow her entrance. "Thank you," she said as she went to the hearth. "The wind is really starting to get colder."

"Why are you wanting to know about the other morning?" Claret asked closing the door then moving to the chair at the small wooden table. "I spoke to the earl's men and his Truth-Readers. I don't know anything."

"Has anyone told you that the King has taken fifty of the villagers as hostage and intends to kill them until someone steps forward?"

"Aye, 'tis a sad thing. The king and his Deryni friends are a barbarous lot of rabble!" Claret spat.

"Those are our friends Claret. I want to find a way to set them free before they are all murdered. I was hoping to ask you a few questions." Betia had to design a way to touch the widow so that she could take her unaware.

"I know, Betia. Some of my family are among the fifty. I would do something if I could to help set them free, but I do not know anything," Claret said hiding her face in her hands.

Seeing the opportunity, Betia moved to the table beside the woman. She stroked the woman's hair, "I know Claret, I know. I want to do something as well." Placing her hand on the widow's temple, Betia murmured, "Sleep." Instantly, the woman was out cold. She started to fall out of the chair, but Betia caught her. Moving her would be difficult, yet to work efficiently, they would both have to be sitting.

Betia dragged her closer to the fire. Sitting down with her back to the stone hearth, she positioned Claret between her legs and arms. Making herself as comfortable as she could, Betia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Resting her forefingers on Claret's forehead, Betia let her shields down to probe into Claret's mind to read the memories of that fateful night.

It did not take her long to find the memories of that night. At first glance, the probe revealed nothing, but something caught Betia's attention. A suspicious sound during the night had awakened Claret. Betia watched in her mind as she got up out of bed to look out the window into the dark. Deepening her trance, she delved deeper into the woman's memories to get a better reading. It was more than Claret getting up out of the night to check on a sound, there was no memory of her going back to bed!

There it was! Someone had been in Claret's mind and changed the memory of the event that had happened that night. Carefully moving around in Claret's mind, Betia returned the memories to her. Claret stood at the window looking into the dark. A horse rode by her cottage. She did not recognize the figure on the horse, it was too dark. Betia watched as Claret walked out of her cottage and yelled something at the rider as he rode off. She did see the other rider come up from behind and hit her with the horse knocking her to the ground. Claret looked up to see a man with dark hair jumping from his horse and quickly move to her. His hands went to her temples erasing the memories of the event, leaving just the memory of her moving to the window to look into the dark.

Betia had seen enough. The poor woman. Now, she had to reset her memories again so that no one would find that she had been there. She had not been in trance for a long time, but long enough for her back to hurt from leaning against the stone hearth. She ignored the slight pain. Carefully, she moved Betia back to the chair, then positioned herself as she had been before she had put the widow to sleep. Betia stroked the widow's hair, then awoke her.

"I know it hurts to see loved ones taken away. That is why I want to do something to help."

"I'll tell you what I know."

"What do you remember of the night before?" Betia asked knowing the answer that Claret would reveal.

"I remember getting up at a noise. I went to the window to see out into the night, but I did not...." she paused furrowing her eyebrows.

"What? Do you remember something?" Betia said trying to sound surprised

"I remember seeing a horse ride off down toward the forest at the end of my fields." Claret shook her head as if trying to clear her mind. "I went out yelling at the rider to get off my property. Then another rider rammed his horse into me." Claret's eyes grew wide as she told Betia of her sudden memory recall.

"Who was it?" Betia asked. She moved to the other chair facing Claret.

"It was a man with dark hair. I did not recognize him. He put his hands on my head, then.... the man is a Deryni!" she exclaimed as she realized what the man had done to her. "He made me forget!"

"Calm down, Claret. Do not get too excited." Betia placed her hands on top of Claret's trying to comfort her. "Take a deep breath." She watched Claret as she did take a breath and calm down. "That's good."

"Can they do whatever they want with their accursed powers?"

"No."

"Why did all of a sudden did I remember what happened? Did you have something to do with it? Are you Deryni?" Claret demanded.

Betia remained quiet at her questions. She could feel Claret's piercing stare as she looked away. By changing Claret's memories back to their original state, Betia knew that she was taking a chance, a chance that she would be discovered. Returning her gaze to Claret, she knew had to explain part of it to her.

"I will answer your last question first. Yes, I am Deryni," she paused after making the statement to let it sink into Claret's mind. No response came from Claret. "Yes, I did have something to do with it, I helped you remember, that's all."

"Helped me remember, eh? I have known you for years, Betia. Why have I not seen your evil before?" Claret asked intensely studying Betia.

"I have no evil in me. Just because I am Deryni does not make me evil. Deryni are not evil, people are evil." Betia stood at her words, but continued, "It matters not who you are, whether high-born or low-born, whether you are from Gwynedd or Torenth, it does not matter, whether Deryni or not. People choose to be evil. They are not born evil, they choose to live their lives that way. You just said, you have known for me years. In all the time you have known me, have I ever done anything evil?" Betia asked emphatically with a wave of her hands.

"No," Claret whispered following Betia's movement around the small room.

"This Festillic king and his Deryni cohorts have done more damage to the Deryni race than anyone could have imagined. Imre is evil, his close associates are evil, and some of them are not Deryni! It does not matter who you are, it is a choice to be evil. Take our good lord earl, Camber of Culdi. Is he evil?" She did not wait for Claret to respond. "No he is not!" she shouted.

Claret shook her hand at Betia, "I understand what you are saying, Betia. There is no need to shout."

"I apologize Claret," Betia said quieter than before. "Thank you for letting me come in out of the cold and ramble."

"Well... I hope I was able to help." Claret said standing then moving closer to the fire to feel its warmth.

"You have, I need to get going though before it gets too late in the day." Betia looked at her friend and hugged her. Stepping back, Betia looked her friend in the eyes. "Forget the conversation we just had," she stated as a command. Claret did not realize she was under a spell. "Do not tell anyone of your memories," Betia continued, "even if they ask." Claret swayed under the spell for a moment, but Betia took hold of her to keep her from falling.

"Thank you for stopping to talk with me. No one else seems to be interested in me." Claret hugged Betia again.

Betia returned the embrace. "I need to go." She turned to the fire one last time to warm her hands before setting off into the cold morning.