by Barbara Bard
He walked in confidently, knowing that those who aroused suspicion were those who acted suspiciously, and went straight up to the bar. As soon as he entered, he cast a quick look around. There were two men sitting at a table in the corner, while a portly woman stood behind the bar. She held a cloth and was wiping the bar down. She smiled at Alastar as he entered, but then quickly turned and yelled at her son.
“Will you get out there and tend to the pigs?!” she shouted. Alastar watched as a dog shot out from behind the bar, followed by a kid, who was just a runt. They hurtled past Alastar and out of the door at breakneck speed. The woman shook her head.
“Greetings traveler, what can I get for you?” she asked.
“I'd like some breakfast if ye have any, and a wee drink,” he said, “and perhaps a smile.” He flashed her one of his own. Usually charm was a way to overcome any difficulties. It was a tactic he had relied on a lot, and he hoped that he could still put it to work.
The woman's eyes darted towards him when she heard the accent, but she didn't seem scared.
“I can do you some bread and cheese, perhaps an egg if my son comes back in soon,” she shouted towards the door. Her son didn't reply. “Would you like a drink, too?”
“I would indeed. Give me ye best recommendation,” Alastar said, leaning against the bar. “I'm Alastar,” he said. The woman eyed him suspiciously.
“Mabel,” she replied. She moved to the end of the bar, pulled a mug from a shelf above her, and then took a bottle from behind her. She poured out the liquid, which was dark. “I always think that the mornings are never a time to make a mind muddled, so I hope you weren't hoping for ale,” she said, then put the mug in front of him.
Alastar took a sip and puckered his lips. It had something of a tart taste but was pleasing to his palette. It was certainly better than the water he had been given over the years.
“We don't get many of you folk around here. Aren't you taking a bit of a chance?” she asked.
“And what dae ye mean by that lass?” he asked, keeping his tone light and his words jovial.
“You know very well what I mean,” she said sharply. “I don't want any trouble here.”
“Ye'll nae get any from me, I swear it tae ye. A man hae tae make a living somehow, what better way than tae come tae the land of opportunity?”
Mabel did not seem convinced. “I'd be careful if I were you. People still don't look too kindly about your kind. You'd do well to keep your head down.”
“I've always been good at getting myself out of scrapes,” Alastar said, “but I take ye advice kindly,” he said.
“If you take a seat, I'll bring over your food.”
Alastar nodded to her and left a couple of coins on the bar. As he turned, he noticed the two men in the corner of the room looking at him. He kept a wary eye on them as he took a seat of his own and waited for Mabel to bring out his food.
She brought him a plate of bread and cheese, which he took his time eating, wanting to savor it. This was his first meal as a free man, and he wanted to properly enjoy it.
The bread was light and flavorful. The cheese was tender and creamy, just the way he liked it. His belly was soon full, but where was he going to go next? It felt as though he had been left behind by the world, and he would have to be careful not to give himself up when he eventually confronted Lord Flynn.
While he was sitting there, he heard some movement behind him. Mabel was cleaning the bar, getting ready for the swell of people that would come later in the day. An instinct in Alastar's gut twitched. His feel for danger hadn't deserted him, and he was sure that these men meant harm to him. He dropped his hand below the table and rested it on the hilt of the sword, ready to draw. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the men's feet against the floor, of their breathing, how it was sharp and frantic. They were definitely planning something.
A shadow fell over him as the men came up behind him. Alastar tensed, ready to draw his sword, but he was surprised to see them move beyond him. They went to the bar.
“Can I get you another?” Mabel asked. The men looked at each other. Alastar didn't like their silence. Neither did Mabel. She reached down below the bar, but as she did so, the gloved hand from one of the men shot out and grabbed her hair. He pulled it and slammed her head against the bar.
“Give us your money,” the other one snapped. He drew a knife, which gleamed. Alastar bowed his head and breathed in deeply, thinking about what to do next. He could just let them get away with it, but that didn't speak to his character. And there was the kid to think about. He heard the door creak. It opened and Alastar saw the boy peer through the opening. Alastar tried to catch the boy's attention, to warn him to stay away, but the boy saw his mother being threatened and yelled like an animal. He burst into the room and ran towards the men, the shaggy black dog following soon after.
The dog came up, all snarling and snapping jaws, but was kicked away by the man holding the knife. The same man reached down and picked up the kid, holding the knife to the boy's head. To his credit, the boy wasn't scared. He was filled with anger, and his jaw snapped as violently as the dog's.
The dog whimpered as it shook off the pain and got to its feet. It saw that the boy was in danger and bared its teeth.
“Now then, give me the money or I'll cut off your boy's ear. And if you still don't give me the money, I'll cut off his nose, and I'll keep cutting him up until you can put him in a stew.”
Mabel whimpered and pleaded for mercy, but it was clear these men weren't going to give her any. Without any hesitation Alastar stood up, kicking the chair from underneath him in one smooth motion, the legs scraping against the stone floor. Alastar folded his arms in front of his chest, staring directly at the men.
“This is none of your business. You can just keep going. We only want the money,” the man with the knife said. He seemed to be the more talkative of the two.
“I cannae dae that lad,” Alastar said. The men looked scrawny, with a desperate look in their eyes. Their teeth were yellowed, and their skin was dirty. “Put them down and gae about ye business.”
“This is our business. If you come any closer, we'll hurt you.”
Alastar stifled a laugh at that. He'd fought knights. A couple of petty thieves like this would be easy for him, but he was more worried that they'd lash out at the child.
“Aye, I'm sure ye would, ye being a strong man and all, threatening a mother and her child. Come here and fight a real man,” Alastar said. As he did so he reached to his hip and drew his sword. It gleamed in the sunlight that poured through the window. The men gulped, suddenly aware that they had gotten more than they bargained for. They exchanged a look between themselves, one where they asked themselves if the money Mabel had was really worth all this hassle.
Alastar decided to make the decision for them. He stepped forward and brought the sword back behind his head, ready to strike.
“Ye can decide which one of ye wants tae die first,” he said, “Or ye can run.”
The men wisely decided that neither of them wanted to die. They dropped the boy and let go of Mabel, then ran out. The dog scampered after them, barking his own threat. Mabel dusted herself off and leaned against the bar, picking up her son to hug. Alastar sheathed his sword.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Think naething of it. Those men should nae be bothering ye again.”
“Are you a knight?” the boy asked. Alastar grinned.
“Not exactly,” he said. “What's your name?”
“Stephen.”
“Well Stephen, you were very brave there. You did your mother proud.” The boy beamed. Mabel smiled too. Alastar assumed it had been a while since anyone had shown her kindness. Mabel told Stephen to carry on with his chores. It was just Alastar and Mabel left in the bar now. She still looked a little shaken by the ordeal, but she was doing well to hide it.
“Dae that happen often?” Alastar asked, perching himself on a stool at the bar.
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Mabel shrugged. “Occasionally, but usually there's enough good folk in here to defend me, and I'm not exactly incapable of defending myself. Usually the morning isn't the time for these robberies.”
“It is nae. Surprising really.”
“I think it's all this trouble brewing. First young master Flynn goes off to war and gets himself killed, now there are rumors that his father wants to go off and avenge his son and get his daughter back. Then again, I heard rumors that she returned. Maybe this time she'll stay and his lust for war fade.” Mabel shook his head. “It doesn't stop people from being people though. They're just scared, probably ran away because they didn't want to go to war. We're all desperate for some coin, but there's a right way and a wrong way to go about these things. Now then mister, I don't want to pry, but it's clear to me that you are not here to do business or make a living. What a man does with his life is his own business, especially when you've saved me and my boy, but I want to know right now if there's going to be trouble coming down on me for you being here.”
Alastar grinned at her. “I am on business actually, but nae the business ye may be thinking of. I should nae think that anyone will look for me here, and I'd appreciate it if ye say ye didn't see me. I am nae a villain.”
“No, and you have proven that to me.”
“Can I ask ye a favor?”
“You may ask.”
“Dae ye hae a room tae spare?” Alastar asked. Mabel rolled her eyes and sighed. She took a mug and rubbed it vigorously with a cloth. Then she stared at the door, thinking about her son.
“I might have, but you can understand if I'm a little hesitant to give it to you.”
“I just need a place tae stay for a few nights. I will be nae trouble, and I'm as quiet as a cat. I just need a place tae rest my head.”
Mabel considered his request for a few moments. “Only because you helped me. But at the first sign of trouble you can be on your way. I'm not going to court danger for no reason. The room is up the stairs, first door on the right.”
“This should cover it,” Alastar said, and gave her the rest of the coins he had pilfered from the guards. Her eyes bulged at the amount.
“This is far too much,” she said.
“Consider it a goodwill gesture,” he replied.
“I'm not going to ask you where you got this,” she said, sliding the money into her apron.
“Ye are a wise woman,” Alastar said. He walked up the stairs and undid his cloak, settling on the bed. He sighed with relief as he felt the aches from his muscles fade. It had been such a long time since he had felt a bed underneath him.
Chapter 4
The Flynn estate was a hubbub of activity. Word spread like wildfire about Lady Flynn's disappearance and everyone seemed to have an opinion on it. Rebecca tried to keep to herself as much as possible, not wanting to betray any of the knowledge she held within her heart.
Rebecca took the pail and made her way across the estate to the far walls, intending to clean all the windows and stay well away from anyone else. However, she had only managed to move a few feet before Elayne rushed up to her.
“Where are you going? Haven't you heard?” Elayne asked in a hissed whisper.
“Heard what?” Rebecca said, casting her eyes away, hoping that the crimson flush on her cheeks would not give her away.
“Lady Flynn has gone! They think she's gone with that Highlander she returned with. Really Rebecca, sometimes I wonder if you're ever paying attention! We must get back to the kitchens.”
Elayne grabbed Rebecca's hand and tugged at her. Rebecca tried to resist.
“You go. I must keep on with my duties,” Rebecca said.
“Oh, forget your duties, this is more important! How many times is this going to happen? I think we can be forgiven for not working just this once. Aren't you curious about this?” Elayne asked and didn't wait for Rebecca to answer. She pulled Rebecca away harshly, and Rebecca did not have the power to resist. She dropped the pail. It fell to the cobbled stone with a clang. Water poured out, flowing in the gaps between the stones. Rebecca's feet skipped away as Elayne led her to the kitchens, a gleam in Elayne's eye.
As soon as they were there, Rebecca mopped the sweat from her forehead and cast her eyes to the floor. Anxiety swam in her stomach, so afraid that somebody would suspect her. Most of the servants were in the kitchens, and conversation bubbled like stew. Elayne smiled.
“This is amazing!” she squealed, almost looking happy. Rebecca couldn't understand why. They kept to the edge of the kitchen and listened in on the conversation that was already occurring between Stephanie, one of the handmaidens, and Adam, one of the butlers.
“I am sure none of this is as bad as it seems,” Adam said, holding his head up high.
“How can you say such a thing? It's quite clear that Lady Flynn has been captured by this Highlander. I don't know how he managed it, but he has struck a deadly blow against Lord Flynn,” Stephanie said.
“I reckon she left with him,” Bob, a surly one-eyed man said.
“Oh, you would say that Bob. Just because your wife left you for a better man doesn't mean that all women are prone to flights of fancy,” Stephanie said. Bob scowled at her but did not say anything else. He was always quick to anger, but never spoke if his wife was mentioned.
“Lady Flynn is the epitome of the English culture. She would never sully the name of her family by doing something so dreadful, especially not after all the scandal that has surrounding this estate in recent time,” Stephanie continued.
“I am not so sure about that. Lady Catherine did seem different upon her return. I believe she may have been changed by her experiences in the Highlands,” Adam said.
“Changed only for the better. She would have been stronger after all she had endured. No, I am sure that this Highlander took her away. My only regret is that she is the one who has to suffer. Her father should be the one paying for these crimes. Lady Catherine is an innocent in all of this,” Stephanie said. There was a slight gasp as Stephanie expressed such a sentiment. Upon hearing the intake of breath that rippled around the room, Stephanie rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Do not be concerned. I am sure that Lord Flynn has more things to worry about at the moment than the opinion of a lowly servant. But I am hardly the only one who feels like this. All of you know what he's like. Such cruelty deserves its own reward. I've always said that his way of treating people is going to catch up with him, and now it is. First his son died, and I do not believe any of us shed a tear when we heard the news, and now his daughter has been captured and will likely suffer the same fate. I only ask when it will be Lord Flynn's turn!”
Rebecca watched everyone else nod subtly. Despite her words being harsh, Stephanie was right. There was no love between Lord Flynn and his staff. He worked them hard, without much in the way of praise or reward. His son had been the same. Work on the estate was difficult and arduous. Most people only stayed because there was little choice and few other options.
Rebecca herself had never experienced any problems directly, but she had heard stories about the way servants had been berated by Harold Flynn when he had been in a temper, or how they had witnessed a lashing from Athelred's sharp tongue. There had also been the occasional tale from Catherine when she was younger, but they were few and far between. Everyone mostly agreed that she was a fine woman, her only fault lacking some awareness of the plight of those poorer than herself.
Still, for all their sins Rebecca wasn't sure that anyone deserved this kind of punishment.
“I agree with all you are saying, but I do not believe this is as much of a crisis as you think. This Highlander is just one man, a young one at that. He's like an orphaned pup, barking loudly to get attention, but he's not threatening at all. The guards have left. I am sure they will return soon with Lady Flynn, and most likely the dead body of that Highlander, if he's foolish enough to put up a fight against trained guards,” Adam said.
“I like h
ow you are so confident of their success,” Stephanie said, “but do you not see what is happening? This estate is falling apart. Lord Flynn the younger has died. Lady Catherine is gone. Lord Athelred is the only one left, and he does not strike me a passionate man, does anyone here really believe he will have other children? I am fearful for our futures if Lady Catherine does not return,” Stephanie said.
There was another wave of gasps. Rebecca knew instantly that she was not the only one who hadn't thought about that. Lord Athelred was not likely to give the estate while he was alive, but the prospect of change was frightening. If he sold the estate, or if anyone else took it over may signal the end of their careers.
“You are getting everyone anxious over nothing,” Adam scoffed. “For one thing Lord Flynn would never abandon this place-”
“He might, if it only serves to remind him of his lost family. He is a proud man. Family is the only thing that matters to him, and his has been torn away. I could easily see him forsaking all of us to go on a bloody rampage through the Highlands if Catherine is harmed,” Stephanie said.
