Mairead’s breath came quicker now, uneven. “They caught me,” she said suddenly, the words tumbling out. “I tried to run, but they… they were stronger.” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard. “They held me. Covered me mouth.”
Fergus shifted beside them, his hands clenching at his sides, though he did not interrupt.
Frederick kept his focus on the girl. “Did they speak to ye?”
“Aye… I think so,” she said, her voice trembling. “But it was… strange. Like they were far away. Or…” She frowned, struggling. “Like I was far away.”
Frederick’s gaze sharpened slightly. “A draught,” he murmured.
Mairead nodded weakly. “They made me drink something. Bitter.” Her hand lifted briefly, as though recalling the motion, then dropped again. “After that… everything…” She shook her head. “It is all… fog.”
Her breathing grew more uneven, her hands beginning to tremble in earnest.
Frederick slowed his questions, adjusting at once. “Do ye remember where they took ye?”
Mairead’s lips parted, but no words came. Her eyes darted, unfocused, as though chasing something just out of reach.
“There was… stone,” she said at last. “And… damp. It smelled…” She grimaced. “Wrong.”
“Underground?” Lennox asked quietly from where he stood.
Mairead flinched at the sound of his voice, her gaze snapping toward him before returning to Frederick with visible effort.
“I… I daenae ken,” she whispered. “It was dark. I could nae see.” Her breath hitched again, and then, without warning, the tension broke. “I cannae remember!” she cried, her voice rising sharply. “I am trying, but I cannae?—”
Her words dissolved into sobs, her body folding inward as the strain of it overcame her.
Fergus stepped forward at once, dropping to one knee beside her. “Easy, lass. Easy now,” he murmured, his voice thick with worry.
Frederick rose slowly, stepping back to give them space.
“Enough,” he said quietly. “She has given what she can for now.”
Lennox moved closer, his voice low. “What do ye make of it?”
Frederick watched as Fergus gathered his daughter closer, the man’s large hand awkward but gentle against her shoulder.
“A draught to dull the mind,” Frederick said. “Multiple captors. Organized enough to move without drawing notice.” His jaw tightened slightly. “And bold enough to take from within our borders.”
Lennox’s expression darkened. “Aye.”
Mairead’s cries had not yet settled when the door to the cottage opened again, the sound sharp enough to draw every gaze in the room.
Erin stepped inside without hesitation, her presence filling the space in a way that required no announcement. Her eyes moved quickly over the scene, taking in the girl folded in on herself, Fergus bent beside her, and the gathered men who had lingered too long.
“That is enough,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “Ye have pressed her past what she can give.”
Fergus began to speak, but Erin lifted a hand, silencing him with ease.
“I will see to her now,” she continued. “Out. All of ye.”
There was no argument in her tone. No room for one.
Frederick inclined his head at once and stepped back, giving way without protest. Lennox followed, and Fergus, after one last look at his daughter, rose slowly and allowed himself to be guided toward the door.
Mairead’s sobs softened slightly as Erin knelt beside her, her voice dropping into something quieter, more soothing, though the words themselves did not carry beyond the threshold.
Frederick did not linger.