What he was told was what he already knew—that the Ludus Caledonia was a secretive fight guild where men gambled on the bouts. A couple of the regulars had become irritated with his questions and had thrown punches to silence him, which only earned them a hammer-like fist to the side of the head.
The Sticky Wick was not for the faint of heart.
Bane had had his share of fights in the place over the past two years. Mostly, the fights weren’t directed at him and were things he simply found himself caught up in, but he had a devastating blow and the regulars knew not to tangle with him. Bane would come in, sit in the corner, and make his ale last as long as he could because he didn’t have the money for more.
But today, things were different.
He wasn’t going to spend another day and night at the Sticky Wick, watching for a carriage that would never come. A storm had rolled in and rain was coming down in sheets as he made his way through Edinburgh, heading east.
He was going to Meadowbank.
He knew that Lucia didn’t want him near the manse, but he simply couldn’t stay away. He knew the place well enough to know that he could probably sneak in through the postern gate because Laird Currie’s guards were lazy.
He’d learned that from his brief time there. Men that Laird Currie paid to protect his home would gather up at the main gate in the guardroom and drink until they could hardly stand. As Bane made his way to the great stone bastion in the driving rain, he was certain the guards would not be out in this weather in any case. He had to take that chance.
As he expected, the postern gate was unguarded.
The stable yard was vacant as he made his way inside, rushing to the stables where he knew he would find old Angus. He was as nervous as a cat as he ducked and dodged all the way to the stable, terrified that the screeching old woman would see him. The last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for Lucia, but he felt very strongly that something was amiss.
He had to discover what it was.
Ducking into the stables, he mercifully had cover so he could watch the kitchen yard for someone he recognized without fear of being seen. He had no idea where Angus was, because the old man was usually somewhere around the stable. The seconds ticked away and Angus didn’t make an appearance.
But someone else did.
Bane could see Tynan as the lad entered the stable yard. He had a bucket in his hands, but he was evidently hunting for something from the way he was swinging his head about. When he came across another bucket, he picked it up, looked it over, and then swapped it out with the bucket he’d been carrying. He turned around to leave the stable yard, and Bane knew he had to act.
Quickly, he stepped out of his hiding place.
“Tynan!” he hissed.
The lad came to a startled halt, looking over at Bane with big eyes. Bane motioned him over and the lad trotted toward him, the bucket banging against his legs. When he reached the stable, Bane stuck out a big hand and pulled him inside.
“Bane!” the boy gasped. “Ye came back! She said ye might come back and ye did!”
The child was clearly glad to see him, but Bane didn’t have time for a happy reunion. Every moment was valuable. He grasped the lad by the arms.
“Do ye know where Lucia is?” he asked.
The child’s joyful expression morphed into a grimace. “Aye.”
“Where?”
“Colly took her away,” he said, suddenly fearful. “I saw it.”
Bane felt as if he’d been hit in the gut as his fears were confirmed. “I knew it,” he hissed. “I knew something was wrong. What happened, lad? What did ye see?”
Tynan looked around anxiously, making sure no one was listening. At the very mention of Colly, he looked like a frightened rabbit. It was clear to Bane that this woman Lucia had spoken of as a vile creature had some kind of hold on Tynan, too.
The child was terrified.
“Lucia was bringing food tae m’lady,” he said quietly. “I was helping her when Colly came tae the kitchen. She hit Lucia on the head and put her in the vault until Lady Currie told her tae let her out, but Lucia isna allowed tae leave the house now.”
Bane frowned. “Hit her on the head?” he repeated. “Is she hurt?”
Tynan shook his head. “I dunna know,” he said. “I’ve not seen her very much since it happened.”
“When did this happen?”
The boy counted his fingers. “Three days ago.”
“But ye have seen her since?”
“I saw her sewing something in m’lady’s chamber when I went tae bring my mam hot water.” Tynan’s little hand grasped Bane’s big hand. “Colly says that Lucia lies and m’lady believes her.”
“And that’s why she’s not allowed tae leave the house?”
Tynan nodded seriously. “She stays inside and Colly watches her.”
“Does she not even go out with m’lady when the woman leaves in her carriage?”
“M’lady hasna left the house, either.”
Bane loosened his grip on the child. At least he knew Lucia wasn’t horribly injured, but she was evidently being kept as a prisoner. Lady Currie hadn’t gone about her usual nightly visits to the Ludus Caledonia, which was why he hadn’t seen the carriage, and all fingers pointed to the old witch, Colly. Clearly, the woman had some kind of a grip on the inhabitants of Meadowbank, Lady Currie included.
Bane was relieved that Lucia wasn’t badly injured, but it was an effort to keep his fury at bay as he realized what was happening. He knew that anger wouldn’t do him any good.
It wasn’t as if he could help her.
At least, not yet.
But the puzzlement in what had happened tore at him because he had a hunch that somehow he’d delayed Lucia’s return on that sweet morning in Edinburgh and she had been punished for being gone too long. Was that what Colly had meant by Lucia’s lies? Perhaps she’d lied to cover up her actions with him.
It had been his fault.
“Bane?” Tynan asked, breaking into his thoughts. “Are ye here tae stay now?”
Bane looked at the lad. Above all of the turmoil he was feeling for Lucia, he still had the capacity to feel some compassion for the child who was clearly lonely. It seemed to Bane, and had since the beginning, that Tynan simply wanted to be loved. He was a kind, openhearted child who had been forced to grow up quickly in harsh servitude. He put his big hand on the boy’s head, dwarfing it.
“Nay, lad,” he said. “In fact, I’m not supposed tae be here. Ye mustna tell anyone that ye’ve seen me. Do ye understand?”
Tynan nodded, though he really didn’t understand. “But why must ye leave?”
“Do ye know why I left in the first place?”
“Lucia said ye had tae go because ye were a busy man.”
He realized she hadn’t told the child the truth. Bane would leave it that way. “I am very busy,” he said. “But I want ye tae tell Lucia something for me and it must be a secret, Tynan. Ye must be very careful that no one sees ye when ye tell her. Can ye do that?”
“I can.” Tynan nodded eagerly. “What do I tell her?”
Bane paused as he thought of something simple yet meaningful. Tynan probably wouldn’t remember a long message, so he had to make it short.
“Tell her that I will return for her,” he said. “Can ye remember that?”
Tynan nodded again. “Will ye really?”
“Really what?”
“Return for her?”
Bane nodded. “I will,” he said. “But ye mustna tell anyone that. Only Lucia. Tell her…I’ll find a way, I swear it.”
Tynan nodded solemnly. “I will.”
Bane smiled at the boy, patting his head. “There’s a good old man,” he said. “Now go about yer business and remember… Ye dinna see me. I was never here.”
With tha
t, he slipped from the stable, leaving Tynan to run after him, stopping at the stable entry only to watch Bane as he flew across the stable yard, staying out of sight until he managed to slip from the postern gate.
The boy watched him with the naked admiration that only a child could give, admiring a man he’d not known long, but someone who had left a mark on him. Kindness to a young boy who’d not known much of it in his short life.
When Bane was finally out of sight, Tynan headed for the manse. He had a message to deliver and he would not fail. Bane had entrusted him with a special task, and he felt important as he ran back into the gray-stone house.
Being small and a child, Tynan was often ignored in the house. He knew that, and this time he would use it to his advantage. It wasn’t unusual for him to retreat to the upper floors where his mother served Lady Currie, so he slipped up the servants’ stairs and into the dim block of chambers that belonged to Lady Currie and her servants, including Colly.
Colly…
The name struck fear into the child even though Colly never gave him a second look. Still, he was terrified of the big, strong woman who prowled around the manse all in the name of Lady Currie. Tynan knew what the woman was capable of, as he’d seen time and time again. The incident with Lucia three days prior had only been one event in a long line of many.
Tynan knew where Lucia’s bedchamber was and that was his destination, but there seemed to be something going on in Lady Currie’s chamber. It was bright and warm, and women were moving about, including his mother. He could see Amy with Lady Currie, massaging her forehead as she lay in bed, eyes closed.
Colly was there, too.
The big woman was standing on the other side of the bed, holding Lady Currie’s hand. Even as Tynan stood in the doorway, he could see that Lady Currie wasn’t feeling well. Everyone seemed to be trying to comfort her in some way. Peering around the chamber, he caught sight of Lucia sitting against the wall, stitching a long, white piece of fabric by the light of several fat tapers on the table next to her.
Tynan didn’t want to tell her of Bane’s message with everyone around, but he also didn’t want to fail Bane. It seemed to him that Bane wanted his message delivered to Lucia immediately, so Tynan made his move.
Nervously, he went into the chamber and headed straight for a table that usually held food and drink for Lady Currie. He knew this because often he would bring the food and wine to the chamber himself. At the moment, the table only held wine, and most of that in the crystal decanter seemed to be gone. Tynan poured the last of it into a matching crystal cup.
Carefully holding the cup so it wouldn’t spill, he made his way over to his mother. He had to pass by Lucia in order to reach his mother, and he kept looking at her to see if she would notice him, but she didn’t. She kept her head down, embroidering the white fabric with methodical stitches. Tynan was forced to walk by her as he went to his mother.
“Would m’lady like some wine, Mam?” he asked politely.
Amy glanced at her son. “That is kind, Tynan, but Lady Currie must rest,” she said. “Ye may put it on the table next tae the bed.”
Tynan moved to do it but at the mention of wine, Lady Currie abruptly became lucid.
“I’ll drink it,” she said.
Amy took the cup from her son, handing it over to Colly, who helped Lady Currie sit up to drink. As the old nurse was occupied with her charge, Tynan made his way over to Lucia.
He was stealthy about it, as stealthy as a child could be. He kept glancing at Colly, who was fully occupied with Lady Currie.
“Lucia,” he whispered. “I’ve a message for ye.”
Lucia looked up from her stitching. She had a bruise on her cheek from the fight with Colly three days earlier, and her eyes were dull with sorrow. But his words had her looking at him curiously.
“Message?” she repeated. “What are ye talking about?”
Tynan put a finger to his lips. “From Bane,” he whispered, terrified Colly would hear. “He was here. He says tae tell ye that he’ll return for ye.”
Lucia’s eyes widened. “Is he still here?”
They were speaking so softly that they were essentially only mouthing the words. Tynan shook his head. “He left,” he said. “He says tae tell ye he’ll return. That’s all he told me.”
Lucia stared at him, her eyes filled with emotion until she happened to glance over Tynan’s head to see that Colly was looking at her. Startled, and terrified the woman might demand to know what she and Tynan were speaking of, she dropped her head and returned to her sewing. Tynan, realizing that the wicked nurse had her attention on him, quickly shuffled from the chamber.
But he’d delivered his message. He’d done what he told Bane he would do and that was all that mattered.
Lucia knew.
As Tynan raced down the servants’ stairs, all the young lad could do was smile. He found himself wishing that when Bane took Lucia away, he’d take him away, too.
Chapter Ten
“M’laird? I am sorry tae disturb ye, but Lady Currie has asked me tae come tae ye.”
Lucia stood at the doors of Laird Currie’s solar, enormous oak doors that had been carved into figures from Celtic mythology. Fantastic dogs and creatures were on the panels along with exaggerated warriors. The doors were quite legendary in Edinburgh, and scholars came from all over to get a look at the detail.
Greer Gordon Hume-Currie, Baron Currie, was a man of great learning. He came from a long line of noble-born warriors who had discovered that their lust for money was greater than their lust for war. Wealth superseded bloody battles, and somewhere in the last century, they had become importers of fine goods from the Continent.
The products were high-end commodities, but there was no merchant stall in Edinburgh to ply their wares. All business was conducted out of the manse, and there was no shortage of customers. Laird Currie could sell an ancient crystal bowl to a wealthy lord and make enough money to sustain Meadowbank for an entire year.
Wealth was something the House of Currie had.
When Laird Currie saw Lucia standing at the doors to his solar, he set aside the book in his hand and waved her in.
“Ah,” he said. “’Tis Colm’s little lass. Come in, child.”
Lucia did. She genuinely liked the somewhat eccentric Laird Currie and she smiled as she came into the chamber.
“Forgive me for disturbing ye, m’laird,” she said. “Lady Currie has asked me tae look at one of yer Roman vases. She wants me tae make her a gown like the ancients wore.”
Laird Currie was out of his chair, very interested in showing her what she sought. As he moved toward a rack of shelves against the wall, he reached into his pocket and pulled forth a big, gray rat, putting the little beastie on a nearby table and giving him a crumb to eat from the remnants of the meal there.
“This,” he said as he reached up to grasp a vase. “This will show ye what the Roman women wore. Magnificent, is it not?”
He handed it to Lucia, who took it timidly. In truth, she was still eyeing the rat eating bread crumbs on the tabletop. Laird Currie was known to walk around with rats in every pocket. Pet rats that all had names like Achilles and Diogenes and Clyde.
Laird Currie and his rat family were well known.
She pushed aside thoughts of rats to focus on the vase. It was a beautiful piece, about a foot tall, with scenes depicting women all around it. The colors were white and brown and a faded red, showing women lounging and eating. More important, it showed their dress and she looked at it closely.
“Aye, m’laird, ’tis,” she said. “May I ask how old?”
Laird Currie was beaming as proudly at the vase as one would beam at a firstborn son. “Two thousand years, I should think,” he said. “These garments were only worn by the noblewomen, ye know. See the embroidery around the edges?”
Lucia nodded as
he pointed it out. “Was it white?”
He shook his head. “Nay, lass,” he said. “Gold. The gown itself must be white, mind ye. A very fine white fabric, and ye embroider the edges in gold. My wife asked for this, did she?”
Lucia nodded. “She did, m’laird,” she said. “I must go tae the fabric merchant and purchase it specially for her.”
The old man nodded, his movements thoughtful as he took the vase from her and carefully set it on the shelf. Another rat slithered out of his robe pocket and fell to the floor, scurrying away as he moved to another small bowl nearby and picked it up, returning to Lucia so she could take a look at it.
“She will look very fine in it,” he said, stepping away as Lucia looked over the bottom of the bowl where women in fine clothing were painted. “She will look like a goddess.”
Lucia sensed something wistful in that statement. Everyone knew that Laird Currie stayed to his solar all day and all night, rarely leaving. He slept here most of the time in the company of his rats, over on a leather couch that was gouged and worn. It was his sanctuary and, Lucia’s father had said, also his prison.
Laird Currie was a lonely man.
“When it’s finished, I’m sure she’ll be proud tae show it tae ye, m’laird,” she said. “She asked specifically for a Roman dress. I’m sure it was tae please ye.”
Laird Currie smiled, but it was without humor. “It isna tae please me, Lucia,” he said. “But it is nice for ye tae say so. I’m sure she wants a new dress tae wear tae the Cal. And why should she not want one? Everyone shows off their finery there.”
Lucia couldn’t dispute him but she wasn’t comfortable with the turn of the conversation. Surely the man knew where his wife went nightly; how could he not? Everyone else knew, so why not him?
But that was the first time she’d heard him speak of it.
“My…my da was very fond of ye,” she said to change the subject to any subject. “He used tae speak so warmly of ye. I never had the chance tae thank ye for what ye did for him before he died. Ye did all ye could tae heal him.”
“Yer da was a sick man,” Laird Currie said, though he didn’t seem to be pleased with the change in focus. He looked at her pointedly. “When ye came tae work off his debt, I was pleased with the honor ye would show yer father, but now I know it was a bad thing. Ye should never have come here, Lucia. I know what happens tae ye. I hear things. I heard ye were attacked by that cow who tends my wife. I heard she locked ye in a chamber.”
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