by Mac Flynn
"I instructed Swain to withhold sending messages, and should one come I would not wish for you to open it. Merely place the letter in our room," Moray requested. He offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet. "Now if you would excuse us."
Moray led me out of the room and down the hall towards the stables, and Cael followed us as far as the parlor entrance. "You might at least tell me when you will return!" he called to us.
"Before dawn," Moray called back.
CHAPTER 29
We stepped out into the wintry chill of late evening. Night and its brother darkness had replaced the glowing sun, and all the world was covered in their shadowy reign. One of the large doors to the stable was open, and we slipped inside. The warm space smelled of fresh hay, grain, and the grease from many harnesses. The stable floor was large enough to fit two four-horse carriages, fully harnessed and at the ready. Such as it was, only our carriage stood with the horses hitched together.
Moray bowed his head to his driver, who returned the favor and waited for us to slip into the carriage before he gave orders for the doors to be opened. With the way cleared we trotted out into the dark world and joined the life such as existed during the night.
I glanced out my window at the mix of humanity. There were lamp lighters plying their trade, drunk vagabonds who staggered to their next drink, and shop girls who hurried home. My eyes were captured by the tired faces of the shop girls.
"Do you still miss it?" Moray spoke up.
I sighed and leaned back against the cushioned seat. Everything about me was comfortable and wealthy, and yet I was uneasy.
"I no longer know," I admitted.
"Is that what troubles you?" he wondered.
I turned to him with a small smile on my lips, and I clasped one of his hands in mine. "You are very kind to worry about me, but this is something I must resolve alone."
He set his hand over mine, and closed his eyes and nodded. "Very well, but do not keep me long in suspense."
I snorted. "Says one who keep secrets even from his host and his mate?" I teased.
Moray pursed his lips and shook his head. "It is for his own safety, and yours."
I leaned close to him and caught his gaze. "Let him decide that, for I think him a man who knows enough of the world to know his own mind."
Moray chuckled and patted my hand. "Perhaps you are right, my mate."
I smiled and pulled my hands from his soft grasp. "And perhaps you would let your long-suffering mate at least know to where we travel. My bum is very sore and wishes not for another long journey."
"We go to meet McKenna," he informed me.
I furrowed my brow. "If he is here than why does he not room with Cael?"
"His work takes him to less fashionable districts, and the secrecy requires some amount of anonymity that rooming with Cael would not grant," Moray explained.
I pursed my lips and turned away from him. "You keep many secrets," I commented.
"Only until I am sure of my accusations," he returned.
I looked back to him. "And they are?" I wondered.
He shook his head. "For another time, but do you not enjoy my mysteries? Surely you couldn't have had many in London."
"I care to know what danger lies ahead," I told him.
Moray sighed and shook his head. "As do I, but we shall see what McKenna has for us."
The ride took us into the less agreeable portions of the city. The houses were as high as ten stories and crammed together so that there was little light between them. The stench grew worse and I noticed more than one residence dump their chamber pots from high windows. Ladies kept themselves clean by stepping on stones, and my fellow sex became less often seen as the fine dresses changed to women of ill-repute who's clothing revealed far more skin than was proper.
Our carriage slowed and turned into an empty side street, and Moray helped me out. The crowds were thin here, and there were no street lamps from which to see the finer details. A great noise came from farther down the street and around a curved corner.
"We will walk from here. The distance is not far," he told me as he assisted me from one clean stone to another.
"Then why do we not stop the carriage there?" I asked him.
"I would not have such a conspicuous vehicle seen before the establishment to which we travel," he explained.
The filthy walk was but a half mile, but the distance seemed to be so much greater. The dark doorways were cluttered with ill-favored people who glared at us under soot-covered eyebrows. Men stalked the streets with pistols at their waists and passed us with their heads down. The exposed women leaned against doorways and winked at Moray as we passed. I scowled back at them, but they only laughed and waved to me.
Many of the ground floors of the buildings were occupied by businesses, and more than one was a tavern. It was into one of these dank establishments that Moray led me. The front of the building held two small windows that gave little light to the interior. The space was occupied by cluttered tables and chairs, and many a wicked card game was played at them. A bar stood at the back, and a scowling gentleman stood behind the counter and cleaned the filthy dishes that were stacked behind him.
Moray led me to the darkest corner of the shadowed room. A single individual sat at a cast-off table, and two other chairs stood opposite him. The man looked up at our coming and stood.
"Good evening," he greeted us.
I started back. My ears recognized the voice of McKenna, but his appearance was much changed. McKenna was dressed in shabby attire, what with a used overcoat in need of more than one mend and clothes beneath that that bespoke a trade in horse manure or pigs. His boots were covered in filth, and his hair was unkempt. The only parts of him that I fully recognized were his bright, clear eyes. They had not lost their keen sight.
Moray and I occupied the two other seats and McKenna resumed his.
"What have you for us?" Moray asked him.
"A strange mystery, my-"
"Not here," Moray advised him.
McKenna bowed. "Sir," he corrected himself. "It seems a laird in the city, Laird Camron Robertson, has conspired to buy many of the estates south of Edinburgh and along the border with England. He has been refused every time, and it has made him a very bitter man. The laird has even threatened the lives of the owners, and one has come to a mysterious accident within the last month, an old widower. It seems his driver was drugged and his carriage upset in a way that left him in poor condition."
Moray frowned. "But what has this laird and his doings to do with me?" he questioned his servant.
McKenna pulled out a rolled piece of paper from his grimy jacket and spread it on the table. It was a crude map of the border between Scotland and England. The lands were divided into smaller territories and each had the name of the owner. McKenna dragged his finger around a large area to the south of Edinburgh.
"These are the lands the laird wishes to control," McKenna revealed.
My eyes widened as I noticed a familiar name in the area and I whipped my head to Moray. "Your lands lie in the center!" I whispered.
It was indeed true. Moray's lands lay in the very center of those sought by this mysterious and dangerous laird.
"Quiet!" Moray hissed, and I cringed beneath his harsh tone. He pursed his lips and his eyes flickered up to McKenna. "If this is true then we have a motive, but there is one problem to this theory. You say this laird has not offered a good price for any of the land?"
McKenna nodded. "Aye, my laird. Many of the offers have been refused on those grounds."
"Then if it is true that he means to kill many lairds, how does he intend to finance this endeavor? Servants must be paid off and killers given their ill-gotten gains," Moray pointed out.
"That I have not yet ascertained, my laird," McKenna replied as he rolled the map. "I also have not found how he means to buy the lands after the rightful owners are murdered."
"Such great unknowns leads me to believe there is more to this t
han a single greedy laird," Moray commented.
McKenna raised an eyebrow. "My laird?"
Moray ignored his question and nodded at the paper in McKenna's hand. "Do you happen have a copy of that map?"
McKenna smiled and offered the rolled up map to his laird. "Always, my laird."
Moray grinned and took the offered paper which he then stuffed into his own coat. "I do wonder why I continue to ask."
"Habit, my laird," McKenna explained. "But what would you have me do first?"
"I would have you find out how he means to murder us so as to halt the attempts, and perhaps through that inquiry we will know how he finances his black intentions," Moray instructed him.
"There is another route that begs inquiry," McKenna revealed. He pulled out a long, narrow bundle wrapped tightly in thick cloth and set it on the table. "I have found the maker of this fine blade, but he will have nothing to do with me. I believe it has something to do with my attire."
Moray studied McKenna's poor wardrobe and chuckled. "I must admit I have never seen you in better costume. However, can gold ply the secrets from this maker?"
McKenna shook his head. "I do not believe so. I offered him the entirety of my purse, but he refused." McKenna slid the bundle towards Moray and looked his master in the eyes. "Perhaps you might persuade him through other means."
The humor fled Moray's face. He took the offered gift and slipped the package inside his coat. "I see. I shall take your advice into consideration. Is there anything else?"
McKenna shook his head. "None at the present."
Moray stood, and I followed suit. "Then we will await the results of each of our inquiries, and come what may decide what action we might take."
McKenna stood and bowed. "Very good, sir."
CHAPTER 30
Moray offered me his arm and led us from the crowded establishment. We stepped onto the streets and I breathed a breath of fresh air, or what air the city offered me. Moray walked beside me in contemplative silence. His eyes looked at the filthy world around us, but from their intense gaze I surmised they saw nothing of the view. I pursed my lips and recounted the strange meeting with McKenna. The map, the bundle, and the threat of the Laird Robertson against the lands of Moray. I furrowed my brow and looked to Moray.
"Do you. . .do you believe what McKenna says?" I asked him.
Moray shook himself from his thoughts and turned to me. "About the laird?" he guessed. I nodded, and he looked ahead and sighed. "Unfortunately, McKenna is very good with his information. If he insists there is a plot, then it must be so."
"But to murder you for your lands?" I persisted.
"A man would murder for less, and my lands are great," he pointed out.
I scowled into my lap and pursed my lips. "But it seems so wrong."
Moray stopped, and I followed suit. He clasped my hands in his, and I looked up into his smiling face. "You are wonderfully naive, my love."
My eyebrows crashed down. "I am not naive. I merely believe no man's life is worth less than his holdings, no matter how vast they be."
"The world views a man as worth very little who does not own land," he argued.
"Then hang the world," I retorted.
He chuckled and squeezed my hands. "An admirable response, but I am sure our enemies will be unmoved."
"Then hang them, as well," I quipped.
"That will be their very punishment, if we can capture them before they grant us the same fate," he commented.
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean to warn you that though we have left Castle Moray we have not left the danger that was present there," he told me. "Our enemies, as McKenna informed us with the unfortunate accident of the other laird, have resources that extend across a wide swath of territory. I would not be surprised if an attempt was made on our lives during our stay in Edinburgh."
I felt the color drain from my face. "You mean as that killer attempted at the castle?"
"I mean precisely that," he agreed.
"Then. . .then are we in great danger as we are here in the dark streets?" I pointed out.
He clasped my chin between his fingers and smiled at me. "You are never in danger so long as I am near. I promise you that."
"I wouldn't make promises I couldn't keep, me laird," a voice spoke up.
I started and spun around in time to see a half dozen men emerge from the alley before which we stood. Their clothes were covered in mud, and their long, greasy hair framed the smirks on their faces. One of them, the man who had spoken, stepped forward and bowed to us.
"Good evening, me laird," he greeted us. Those behind him burst into laughter as he straightened and took off his worn hat. "Might I interest your lady friend in a tour of our fine city?"
Moray tucked me behind him and scowled at the men. "I recommend you men leave us alone, or I can't be blamed for the consequences," he warned them.
All but the leader laughed. His grin widened as his eyes fell on me. "That remark, me laird, I'm afraid your lady friend will sorely regret."
I screamed when a pair of hands grabbed me from behind. Two men rushed past me and yanked Moray's arms behind him. He pulled and strained against their hold, but their combined strengths kept him in their grasp. The man who held me dragged me past Moray and before their leader. He grabbed my chin in one grimy hair and forced me to look into his lustful gaze. The man nodded and looked to Moray.
"A fine lady you have here, me laird. I would say she would fetch two thousand pounds," he mused.
"Do not touch her," Moray growled.
The leader laughed. "The more you demand the less you'll receive, me laird."
The man wrapped an arm around me, and leaned down and pressed his filthy lips against mine. His stench invaded my nostrils and his flavor was as though I kissed a pig. I wrenched myself from his horrible person and spat into his face. He started back as his men broke into laughter. The leader wiped my spittle off his face and glared at me.
"You little bitch," he snapped.
He raised a hand and slapped me across the cheek. I cried out against the pain and tears sprang into my eyes.
"Don't touch her!" Moray shouted.
I glanced over my shoulder in time to see him wrench himself from from one of the men. He grabbed the other man by the collar and flung him into the wall of the nearest building.
"Hold him down!" the leader ordered his men.
Those around him rushed forward and piled on top of Moray. When the lord reappeared he lay flat on the ground and four of the men, each at his arms and legs, pinned him to the muck. The leader strode over and knelt in front of Moray. His voice was low and threatening.
"Don't try to follow us, or your lady will suffer the consequences," the leader warned Moray. "Your job is to bring two thousand pounds to the old farmhouse a half mile from the southern gate. It will be the gold for your lady."
"And if I refuse?" Moray questioned him.
A sly smile slid onto the leader's face, and his eyes flickered to me. "Then I will give each and every one of my men a chance at your woman." The others in the group were all grins, and many of them leered at me. The man stood and turned to me. "Into the alley, and bring the woman," the leader commanded those who didn't hold Moray.
My captor pulled me forward into the dark alley. I looked over my shoulder at Moray. I caught his eyes and stretched my hand out to him.
"Moray!" I yelled as I was dragged into the darkness. I fought against my captor, but his strength was too strong. "Ken!"
"Abby!" he roared.
Moray tore from his captors and grabbed the two nearest him. He bashed their bodies together and they crumpled to the ground. The other four jumped him again, but Moray grabbed each of them in turn and dashed them into the wall.
"Run!" yelled the leader.
Those of his men who remained standing needed little encouragement. They rushed down the alley, and the man who held me tossed me over his shoulder and followed them. He completed t
hree steps before something wrenched him to a stop. I faced frontwards and nearly slid off his shoulders, so quick did we come to a halt. We were spun around and my eyes widened as I fell on Moray.
His body was changed. His ears were long and pointed, and his eyes held a yellow luster in their depths. The transformation had stretched and torn parts of his pants and the front of his shirt, and had forced his cloak outward so it billowed around his enlarged form. Moray curled his lips back in a snarl and revealed his sharpened teeth.
The man had barely choked out his scream before Moray grabbed him about the throat with a clawed hand. The lord tore me from my captor and tossed the man into the wall to his left. The man hit face-first into the unforgiving bricks and collapsed to the ground.
I tried to pull away from the monster, but he wrapped his arm around my waist. I cringed when I felt his clawed hand settled on my hip. His lips covered his terrifying teeth and he gazed into my eyes. I paused and blinked as I beheld the familiar dark look of the human Moray. I set my palms against his chest and swallowed before I spoke.
"Are you. . .can you understand me?" I choked out. He nodded. "Can you. . .could you please release me?" the werewolf's eyes narrowed and he shook his head. I frowned and clenched my hands against him. "Moray, release me," I demanded. He growled, but I stood on my tiptoes so I was nearer his height and glared back. "Lord Kenneth Moray, release me at once, or I swear I will never speak to you again."
The werewolf's lips curled back in a sly smile, and when he spoke it was in a deep, gravely voice. "A man would hardly think that such a terrible threat," he pointed out.
I snorted. "You can hardly call yourself a man."
The werewolf winced and his hold on me lessened. "Perhaps you are right," he agreed.
He opened his arm, and I quickly stepped out of his reach. My back bumped into the wall opposite where he had thrown the man. I pressed my palms against the rough brick, and my eyes fell on my unmoving captor who lay at my feet.
"Is he-?" I couldn't finish the sentence.
Moray glanced at the man and shook his head. "No, though not for my lack of trying."
I took a cautious step towards Moray. "Can you-are you able to change back to a human?" I asked him.
He sighed, and it was as though that sigh dispelled the curse. His body shrank to its normal size, and the tufts of fur that poked out from his shirt and pants slipped into his clothes. The pointed ears became smaller and rounder, and when he spoke his teeth were no longer sharp.
