Lucia’s cheeks flushed and she averted her gaze. “It was nothing, m’laird.”
“It dinna sound like nothing tae me. What happened?”
“Colly and I dunna get on,” she said. “But I dinna provoke her if that’s what ye mean. I try tae behave myself, but that woman is—”
He cut her off with a snort. “I know what she is,” he said. “She’s a devil who tries tae rule my home. I’d like tae send ye home, but my wife likes tae have ye here. She likes the garments ye make for her.”
Lucia’s heart was in her throat with what he’d said. I’d like tae send ye home. God, how she wished he would!
“I dunna mean tae be bold, m’laird, but when do ye think ye can send me home?” she asked. “What I mean tae ask is when my da’s debt will be paid?”
The old laird looked at her. “Soon, I should think. Where will ye go?”
Lucia was vague in her reply. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I have an aunt who lives in Selkirk. Mayhap I’ll return tae her, though it will seem strange not seeing my da in her home. That was the only home he ever knew next to Meadowbank.”
Laird Currie nodded, somewhat sadly. “Yer da was a great help tae me when he was here,” he said. “He was my friend. Not many men say that about a servant, but I do. Colm Symington was a good friend. I miss him.”
Lucia smiled. “As do I, m’laird.”
She was still holding the bowl with the women painted on it and Laird Currie moved to her, carefully taking the bowl from her. His movements were slow, pensive.
“I’ll bring it up tae my wife about sending ye home,” he said after a moment. “Mayhap after ye make her Roman dress for her. No promises that she’ll agree, but I’ll ask.”
Lucia felt more relief than she could express. Was it really possible that the end of her servitude was in sight? “Thank ye, m’laird,” she said. “But…but if I’m able tae pay off the debt myself, could I do that?”
“Do ye have the money?”
“I dunna know. How much would it be?”
He cocked his head thoughtfully. “Yer da cost me a good deal when he was ill,” he said. “Truthfully, I wouldna consider it a debt, but my wife does. That’s why we took yer service in payment—because she said I should. I would say two pounds should satisfy the debt. But if my wife wishes tae keep ye on, it may be more difficult than that.”
Lucia knew that and she tried not to get her hopes up. “I dunna wish tae be a servant the rest of my life, m’laird,” she said. “I have dreams, too.”
“What dreams?”
“Tae become a seamstress and sew for fine ladies. And…and mayhap tae marry.”
His old eyes crinkled. “Do ye have a lad picked out?”
She was coy, fighting off a grin. “’Tis possible, m’laird.”
Laird Currie chuckled at her girlish charm, something that was so different from his own wife. She didn’t have charm—what she had was purely opportunistic seduction. Perhaps if he’d been wiser when he’d met her…
But no.
He could not look back. He’d done that too much as it was.
“Off with ye, lass,” he finally said. “We’ll speak on this another time.”
Lucia rushed off, but not before she caught a glimpse of Laird Currie as he sat at his fine table cluttered with books and more rats and a writing kit, and rubbed at his forehead as if greatly troubled.
Of course he was troubled. With a wife who only wanted to dress for her studs at the Ludus Caledonia, he had a great deal to be troubled over. He may have been the lord of the manse, but he had no say in what went on there and Lucia felt a good deal of pity for him. He was a nice man, after all.
And he’d spoken of her freedom.
Struggling to keep optimism from consuming her, she headed back up to the small, neat sewing room to sketch out an example of the dress she wanted to make for Lady Currie.
Chapter Eleven
The Sticky Wick
Edinburgh
“Usually, he’s here in the morning,” the tavernkeep said. “I would wager he’ll be here sometime.”
He was speaking to two men, one enormous and bald, and the other big, blond, and handsome. They were both well fed and well dressed, making them something of an oddity in a pit of despair like the Sticky Wick.
The blond spoke up.
“And ye said he’s been asking about the Cal?” he said. “If it’s the man ye’ve described tae me, I’ve seen him before. He was here when I started coming tae this place years ago, though I dunna much know him. But I do know his name—Bane.”
The tavernkeep nodded. “Bane Morgan,” he said. “He’s much like ye were once.”
“At least I found my way out of it.”
The tavernkeep looked him up and down. “Ye surprise me each time I see ye, Lor. Time was when ye were a fixture here, too, living in filth and drink until those from the Cal took ye away. Ye dunna look like the same man.”
Lor Careston’s eyes glimmered. “That’s because I’m not,” he said. “The Cal can do for Bane what it’s done for me, although I’m surprised it’s taken this long for the man tae ask about it. He’s a fighter. I can remember seeing him in the past. He’s a beast when it comes to a brawl. Surely he’ll make a good candidate for the Cal.”
The tavernkeep nodded. “The regulars stay away from him,” he said. “I dunna know Bane’s story, but he seems…lost. There’s something inside of him that’s hurt and dangerous. He’s a man with secrets.”
“How do ye know?”
“Because I’ve seen enough men hiding their pasts tae know that.”
The tavernkeep tapped his head knowingly as he walked away, off to help a group of men who had come in out of the rain. Lor turned to the man next to him.
“I’m sure ye’ve seen this man, Luther,” he said. “Ye’ve been coming around tae the Sticky Wick for a long time. Bane Morgan is a regular here.”
Luther Eddleston scratched his bald head. “I’m not sure,” he said in his proper English speech. “Describe the man to me.”
Lor cocked his head in thought, leaning forward against the table they were sitting at. “He’s a big man, about my size,” he said. “Brown hair that is badly in need of a cut and a beard. He always sits in one of the corners, out of the way.”
Luther pondered that. “Walks with his head down?”
“I suppose so. I’ve never really noticed.”
“Then we’ll simply have to wait until he makes an appearance, but we cannot wait too long.”
Lor knew that. Like Lor, Luther was a doctores, or trainer, at the Ludus Caledonia, but he was also a scout. Often, the doctores made trips into Edinburgh to find new blood for their fight guild. On this afternoon, it happened to be him and Lor at the Sticky Wick because they’d received word that a possible candidate had been asking about the Ludus Caledonia.
That was usually how it started. The tavernkeep received a bounty for every fight guild candidate he referred to the Cal, so he would send word if anyone was either asking of the Ludus Caledonia or if a man seemed to be a viable prospect. The other trainers were busy on this day, so Luther and Lor took the short journey into Edinburgh to check on the information. There were fights at the Ludus Caledonia tonight, however, so they couldn’t spend too much time on the hunt for the elusive Bane Morgan.
During their wait, it was an interesting afternoon.
At least three fights broke out in the tavern, including one between two very old men who could barely stand, trying to brain each other with their wooden cups. That was entertaining, bringing chuckles from Lor and Luther, but one of the fights had ended in a man being stabbed.
His friends had dragged his body away, leaving a trail of blood.
The pair was about halfway through their cup of cheap ale when the rainstorm outside let up and men began to filter out, g
oing about their day until the next bout of rain began. But as men departed the tavern, more came in. Lor recognized one of them.
He tapped Luther on the arm.
“There,” he said. “Over by the door, the tall lad with the hair to his shoulders. That’s Bane Morgan.”
Luther peered at the man Lor was indicating. He was a little taller than Lor with a slender torso and ridiculously broad shoulders. “I thought you said he had a beard?”
Lor shrugged. “He’s clearly shaved it off,” he said. “But I recognize him. That’s definitely Morgan.”
Luther took a closer look, although his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. Age and a rough lifestyle had seen to that.
“I think I recognize him,” he said. “Aye, I do believe I’ve seen him before.”
Lor nodded. “As I said, he was here when I first came tae Edinburgh,” he said. “He kept to himself and I kept to myself. I dunna think I’ve ever spoken a word to him. Do ye want tae—?”
He was cut off when one of the friends of the man who had been stabbed earlier abruptly charged back into the place, ramming the door into Bane, who lost his balance as he crashed into the nearest table.
The three men sitting at the table didn’t take kindly to the intrusion. As Lor and Luther watched, the first man reached out to Bane, who deftly avoided the clawlike hands and grabbed the man by the back of the neck, tossing him across several tables until he crashed to the floor.
The second man at the table had a cup of ale in hand, and gripping the cup, tried to smash it into Bane’s face. Bane was faster, however, and punched the man in the throat, instantly disabling him.
As Bane tried to move away from the table, the third man launched himself at Bane, grabbing him around the torso. Bane didn’t hesitate; he grabbed the man by the hair, pulling so hard that the man loosened his grip as he started to yell. Once his grip was broken, Bane kneed him in the chest, which knocked the wind out of him. A second blow to the face sent the man to the floor, unmoving.
Knocked cold in one punch.
Luther grunted. “So that’s your Bane Morgan, is it?” he asked. “Impressive.”
Lor’s eyebrows rose in agreement. “I would say so.”
“I cannot believe I have not noticed this man before. Mayhap I wasn’t looking in the right place.”
“Now ye know.”
“Indeed, I do.”
Luther rose to his feet and Lor knew what was coming. The same thing had happened to Lor when he’d been asking about the Ludus Caledonia, hoping to make contact with men who could change his destiny. Luther had tested him before he ever spoke to him.
Bane was about to meet with a similar test.
Lor watched curiously as Luther skirted the room, watching Bane as the man backed away from those he’d just pummeled. He was making his way to the other side of the room, to one of his preferred corners, but he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going as much as he was watching his back.
Luther could see that. He made sure to be in the right place at the right time as Bane backed right into him, stepping on his foot. Luther roared angrily and the fight was on.
Bane was on the defensive even though he clearly had no idea what he’d done wrong. Luther grabbed him by the neck and would have tossed him had Bane not done the same thing to Luther that he’d done to one of the other men—he threw a punch right into Luther’s throat that staggered him.
By this time, Lor was up, moving for the pair before the fight turned ugly.
“Wait,” he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Bane, wait… Look at me. Do ye know me?”
Bane was ready for battle. He had a wild-eyed look about him, but he managed to focus on Lor. He was puzzled at first until recognition dawned.
His brow furrowed.
“I’ve seen ye,” he said, but his balled fists were still up. “Ye used tae come tae this place.”
“I did.”
“Who are ye?”
“My name is Lor,” Lor said evenly. “Ye and I never spoke to one another, but I knew of ye. I saw ye often.”
Bane was confused. He looked between Lor and Luther, his fists still raised. “Do ye want a piece of me, too?” he asked. “I’m ready for ye.”
Lor shook his head. “Nay,” he assured him. “I’m told ye’ve been asking about the Ludus Caledonia.”
That drew a reaction from Bane. His puzzlement was magnified tenfold. “Do ye know about the place?” he demanded. “What can ye tell me about it?”
Lor glanced at Luther, who was coughing and rubbing his throat, before crooking his finger.
“Come with me.”
Bane hesitated a moment before complying, but he kept turning to look at Luther, who was bringing up the rear. It was clear that he didn’t trust the bald man, and his fists were still up, but his curiosity about the Ludus Caledonia was stronger than his mistrust.
Still, he kept a healthy distance from the man as he followed Lor to a corner of the tavern. When Lor sat down, Bane continued to stand until the bald man sat, too. Lor indicated an empty chair.
“Please sit,” he said. “I want tae talk tae ye.”
Warily, Bane lowered himself into the chair, lowering his balled fists for the first time. “Tell me what ye know about the Ludus Caledonia,” he said. “Is it true that men can make money there?”
“Fighting or gambling?”
“Fighting.”
Lor nodded. “It is true.”
“Then I want tae volunteer tae fight. I want tae make money.”
Lor looked at Luther, who had been with the Ludus Caledonia far longer than Lor had. “This is Luther Eddleston,” he said. “He can answer yer questions better than I can.”
He deferred to Luther, who took a big gulp of ale, clearing his sore throat before responding.
“Why?” he asked simply.
Bane couldn’t think of anything to tell him other than the truth. It was the truth. “Because I want tae buy the freedom of a woman in servitude,” he said. “She’s working off her father’s debt. If I can buy her freedom, we can marry.”
Luther looked at him closely as he contemplated his answer. “Do you have any experience in fighting? It seems to me that you have some aptitude for it from what we’ve seen.”
Bane nodded. “I’ve been fighting the Sassenachs as long as I can remember.”
“Have you seen action?”
“When the Sassenachs sacked Berwick, my clan was called upon tae reinforce the borders,” he said. “I’ve been in many a battle, I assure ye.”
“Then you have a warrior’s background.”
“Aye.”
“What happened?”
“What do ye mean?”
Luther indicated the tavern. “A seasoned warrior finds himself here, at this place, living with the filth of society? I want to know why. What made you come here, Bane?”
Bane’s jaw began to tic. He couldn’t tell him the truth, as complicated as it was. Surely those from the Ludus Caledonia wouldn’t want a man who had led his men to disaster. Though Bane was honest to a fault and lies did not come easily to him, he found that he simply couldn’t tell them the whole truth. He was afraid they would reject him.
And he desperately wanted to be accepted.
“Because I need money,” he said. “I canna find that in the Highlands. My brethren used tae call me the Highland Defender because I’m an excellent warrior. But each man must find his way in life and must do what is important tae him. Right now, making money tae pay my lady’s debt is important tae me.”
Luther didn’t have any cause to disbelieve him because Bane made a reasonable argument. “I see,” he said. “I suppose your reasons are as good as any. But let me be clear—we do not take volunteers.”
“Then how does a man come to the Ludus Caledonia?”
“He gives his life over to it.”
Bane looked between Luther and Lor, confused. “His entire life?”
Luther put up a hand. “Before we proceed any further, there is something you should know,” he said. “If you are looking for quick money, this is not the place for you. If you are looking for something temporary, this is not the place for you. But if you are willing to work hard and pledge your life and your time to the Ludus Caledonia, we can change your life. Ask Lor.”
Bane’s attention shifted to Lor, who nodded his head slowly to confirm Luther’s words. “When I first came tae the Sticky Wick, it was because I was told the Ludus Caledonia was a place that could teach me tae fight,” he said. “Unlike ye, I had no real experience in it. I was told that those at the Sticky Wick could connect me with the Cal, and I was determined tae learn tae fight for one very good reason—vengeance. Like ye, I had my own wants. I wanted tae seek vengeance on those who had destroyed my village in the Highlands. But the Cal isna for opportunists. It’s for men who know how tae make a vow and keep it.”
Bane thought carefully on that. “What kind of vow?”
“If ye want the Cal tae provide ye with opportunities, then ye need tae pledge seven years of yer life,” Lor said. “Usually, the man who owns the Cal would tell ye that, but since ye seem tae think ye can fight for quick riches, ye should know what is expected of ye before ye waste yer time and ours. We look for fighters who can commit tae training and will hold true tae that commitment. If the Cal is going tae spend money training ye, then ye must understand there is a commitment on yer part as well.”
Seven years. That gave Bane pause. He didn’t want to commit his life to something for seven years when he desperately wanted to pay for Lucia’s freedom and marry her sooner rather than later.
Highland Defender Page 9
