Gareth Ogilvie The Great Sea King

by J W Murison

  ‘So that's your real name eh? No wonder you like to be called Scout.’

  Scout snatched it out of his hands, ‘my name causes grown men to shiver with fear when they know I'm on their trail.’

  Graun roared with laughter, ‘Archibald Daisy, it’s not a name that thrusts fear into my heart Scout.’

  Scout smiled coldly, ‘that's only because I'm not hunting you down; you would feel differently if I was.’

  That made Graun laugh even louder, ‘aye ok you’re scaring the shit out of me Archibald; Steven this document makes you his son and a hunter of men as well.’

  ‘Aw common Graun, Steven Daisy!’

  His companions roared with laughter but Graun wasn’t impressed, ‘do you want to be a part of this team or not?’

  ‘It’s not that, can’t I just be another man hunter, no insult meant Scout.’

  Scout grinned, ‘none taken young man, but we hunters of men always travel alone or with members of our family, that's it, it’s only a name.’

  ‘Sorry, big deal in the Highlands.’

  ‘I know.’

  Graun interrupted, ‘you’re the smallest of us all and the only one we can find a horse to fit, and clothes, so stop fucking moaning and live with it. Keep your gloves on at all times; no one is to see your ring finger, we don’t know, but it could give the game away.’

  ‘I got it,’ he sulked, ‘cant I at least take my claymore?’

  Graun sighed but Scout took over, ‘no lad, we use rapiers, don’t worry I’ll teach you how to use it effectively even against a claymore, it will be fun son.’

  ‘Aye ok Da,’ the gathered men laughed.

  ‘You will report to the magistrate in that region, I doubt if you can trust him so don’t. These posters of wanted men should get you into see him and ask if there is anyone he needs found and add them to your list.’

  Scout took the posters from Graun with a growl, ‘you don’t need to teach me my job Graun, relax and fuck off; let us get to it.’

  Graun grinned, ‘aye ok Scout, good luck. Steven I want a full days debrief from that wife of yours every evening.’

  They made their way to their departure point and Steven’s wife took them to a point close to the old Eagle centre. She kissed Steven and disappeared.

  Steven struggled to get on the horse. Scout shook his head, ‘that's no good, by the time we reach that town you got to ride that horse like you've been doing it for years. We’re going to camp here for a few days until you got the fundamentals.’

  ‘Cant we just get going.’

  ‘No we fucking cant. We’re not here as hunters of men we’re here as spy’s and if we don’t give the right impression from the moment we walk in there then they will slit our throats before we can have our first drink.’

  Steven sighed, ‘ok Da, fuck it, let’s get a start on it.’

  Three days later they rode out of their make shift camp, Steven was sore but riding high on the saddle. Scout was pleased with the progress the young man was making. The rapier looked ridiculously small in the Highlanders hand but he was already an accomplished swordsman, in a few months he could well present Scout with a challenge. Scout also wore a glove on his right hand and round their necks their badge of office. They also wore dark clothing with long black boat cloaks. Scouts clothes were well worn and his badge of office showed long years of use, Stevens however were fresh; he only hoped he could pull it off.

  It took a week of hard riding to reach the town Scout was heading for, by then Steven was used to the horse and well versed in the laws governing their profession. People began to move quickly off the street as they approached. Doors and shutters were closed. Scout had passed this way before and knew the way, he only hoped he would be remembered. He was in luck, as they dismounted at the sheriff’s office an old crippled man shuffled out of the door.

  ‘Well well, I thought you were called into the army?’

  Scout didn't smile, ‘I thought you were as well.’

  ‘For about five minutes, broke my leg the first week and was sent home.’

  Scout nodded, ‘you were lucky then.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘Lead Scout with the cavalry, we were led into an ambush; lucky for me I was Scouting ahead and managed to survive.’

  ‘Lucky you, but then you always were a hard bastard to kill, no offence meant.’

  ‘None taken sheriff.’

  ‘Who’s the big fella with you?’

  ‘My son.’

  ‘Didn't know you had one.’

  ‘Neither did I until a few months ago.’

  The sheriff smiled coldly, ‘big girl was she.’

  ‘I take it where I can get it.’ Scout grunted.

  The sheriff’s smile was cold and knowing, ‘teaching him the trade are you.’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Not long got his license though has he.’

  ‘Nope, things have been pretty fucked up lately.’

  ‘Can I see it?’

  ‘You have that right sheriff.’

  Scout took their licenses and handed them over. The sheriff inspected them and handed them back, ‘well that's in order, what can I do for you?’

  ‘We are chasing a couple of fugitives, have you got anything for me.’

  ‘Might have a couple, low grade, nothing serious, hardly worth your time.’

  ‘I’ll have a look.’

  ‘You have that right. Better come in.’

  Scout was looking through the sheriffs books when one of the men came in and paid the fine he was due. The man eyed Scout with fear the whole time he was in.

  ‘Don’t leave it so long the next time,’ the sheriff growled at the man. ‘Lucky bastard,’ he growled at the retreating back. ‘You want to wait for half an hour and see if the other one turns up.’

  ‘Don’t make money letting them come in themselves sheriff.’

  ‘The man’s a friend of mine.’

  ‘We need the money Da,’ Steven interrupted.

  Scout regarded Steven then pulled of his glove, ‘aye lad but we need friends more. Have you any hot tea sheriff?’

  ‘I got black.’

  ‘Even better.’

  So they sat and drank hot black and waited for the man to turn up, which he did half way through their mug of black. The sheriff scolded his friend soundly then sat back down to his mug of black, ‘well that's it I'm afraid. Want me to look at those posters again.’

  ‘I would appreciate it sheriff.’

  This time he took the time to study them hard, but could only shake his head, ‘a priest and a magician never seen that before.’

  ‘Well we’re under new management now.’

  ‘So I hear, nope never seen them. Is it true that every temple in the land has been burned to the ground?’

  ‘Not quite but damn as near. Our new King doesn’t like the excesses of our old King.’

  ‘Is it true he cut his head off with a mighty sword?’

  ‘Nope, it was his own Eagle that killed him, tore him to shreds then dumped his head into the front ranks of our army.’

  ‘How, an Eagle can’t turn on its master.’

  ‘It can if it’s free.’

  ‘Wow, who would have thought.’ The sheriff shifted uncomfortably, ‘there are rumours about the Eagles, about them turning into people, is that true.’

  ‘As true as I'm sitting here, seen it with my own eyes I have,’ he laughed, ‘man did I shit myself, it was the queen herself it was, naked as a new born.’ Scout snapped his fingers, ‘just like that, one second an Eagle and the next a vision of beauty to behold. I thought she was a goddess, found myself grovelling in the mud like a fool.’ Scout smiled at the memory, ‘she actually apologised for frightening me, can you believe that?’

  ‘No.’

  Scout laughed, ‘well it’s true, she wasn’t our queen then, she was just a princess and our King, well he wasn’t a King then either. He was the war chieftain of the Highland nation. He had just led three
hundred thousand men into a trap and drowned them, I was the only survivor. Didn't tell them that though, told them I was just a traveller caught in the storm they cooked up. Took me in they did for a few days until my horse was well enough to travel again. Gareth Ogilvie is his name; who was little more than a maker of swords before his people called him to battle, now he’s the Great Sea King.’

  The sheriff was hooked on the story, ‘are you sure it’s the same man?’

  ‘Oh aye, I've seen him in the city, him and his wife. The place is crawling with Highlanders now, it’s no fucking good.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘No fucking crime, they scare the shit out of the criminals, man they are brutal. It took me months to get them to recognise my, shall we say special talents; they killed most of the officials the day they arrived for fucks sake. It was months before they selected another justice and almost as long to get them to recognise me. I think if it wasn’t for this pair,’ he tapped the poster, ‘I would never have been reinstated properly. They let me take my son, too then the Eagles transported us to this area, it’s where they were last seen.’

  The sheriff was bursting with questions for the region was starved of news. He called in a boy and sent him off. Within ten minutes the magistrate arrived and took a seat. Scout had to go through the whole story again. By nightfall they took to drinking and the sheriff offered them the cells to sleep in.

  In the morning feeling rough they took a drink of black and the boy turned up with breakfast for them. The sheriff arrived and asked them to wait until the magistrate turned up, which he did two hours later. He dismissed the sheriff from his own jailhouse and sat at his desk. He regarded the two men cannily.

  ‘That's was quite a story you told last night constable Daisy.’

  ‘It’s all true sir.’

  ‘I have been reading men all my life constable and realise at least most if not all of what you have told me is true. Tell me what did they tell you of this area before they sent you?’

  ‘They couldn’t tell me much sir as communication farther than this seems to have been cut off. That's why I came here as a start point.’

  The magistrate pointed, ‘beyond this town there is little law or consideration for it. Have you heard of a man called Miguel?’

  ‘He owns a big breeding centre down this way somewhere I was told. I was also told to avoid him.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Don’t know really, there are rumours that the King is sending a large army down this way to kick his fucking arse, I'm to keep clear, leave him alone, not my job.’

  ‘Do you know when he’s sending the army?’

  ‘I doubt if it will be anytime soon.’

  ‘Oh, why?’

  ‘They have their hands full for the moment with another breeding centre; I was speaking to one of their Scouts a few weeks ago. He says they are in no condition to go after it.’

  The magistrate sat back, ‘pray tell.’

  Scout shrugged, ‘why sir, this has nothing to do with my presence here.’

  ‘Forgive me constable, but we are starved of news here and I want to know if any large forces are coming this way.’

  ‘I can’t see it sir, not this year anyway. If I was this Miguel I would pack my place up and take it to a country outside the Sea Kings influence, there are quite a few now he has released them.’

  ‘Released them, explain.’

  ‘Our King is a reluctant King and it would seem has no greater desire than to return to the mountains of his birth. He is breaking up the Kingdom and placing the new provinces under their own rule. He has had them elect representatives from among the populace to rule themselves. He has started with the farther most places in the Kingdom and as far as I know it seems to be working.’

  ‘So where are you going to look for your fugitives?’

  ‘Starting here, I'm then going on to Tansy, Rockwood and Birchrock. From there I'm going to traverse the Mill Lake and take the road down to Barrenfields, Gleefields and Wormfields then up into the mountains.’

  ‘Do you think you will find them?’

  ‘No, not a chance. By now the mage will probably be working for Miguel and the priest will probably have grown his hair long and married some widow on a farm somewhere.’

  ‘You don’t seem to care too much.’

  ‘I don’t, every day I'm on the road I get paid.’

  ‘It’s barely enough to feed you.’

  Scout shrugged, ‘it is enough to feed us and we will pick up commissions along the way. It’s an open warrant that will keep us on the road for years and away from the big cities, the Kings and their politics, army’s and mad generals.’

  ‘You have little intention of ever going back have you?’

  Scout shrugged in non-committal way, ‘someone else may find them or I might, if so I will return and if not,’ he left the rest unsaid.

  ‘In that case I won’t wish you luck,’ the magistrate smiled, ‘I think I have enough in the town coffers to pay you a few weeks salary if you wish it. You have a book of course.’

  ‘Of course sir.’

  ‘Then let’s get over to the courthouse, then you two can be on your way.’

  An hour later they rode out of town. Scout was well pleased with the results; it had gone better than he had hoped.

  ‘Didn't go to well then,’ Steven ventured as the crossed the horizon and left the town behind.

  Scout had his eyes to the ground, ‘what!’

  ‘It didn't go to well, we didn't find out much.’

  Scout reigned in his horse and looked at Steven, ‘really is that what you think.’

  ‘Uh aye.’

  ‘Lad you have a lot to learn.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘For god’s sake the magistrate is in the pay of Miguel and either later today or tomorrow he is either going to send a fast rider out to him or go himself.’ Scout scratched his chin, ‘I think he will probably go himself.’ He kicked his horse onwards.

  ‘What, how, who told you that, hey wait a minute.’

  CHAPTER 17

  Astinging slap across the buttocks snapped Gareth awake. He sat up to find himself staring down the length of King Leopold’s sword. Adrenalin fused his system pushing away the edges of a black headache.

  ‘What are you doing in my bed chambers?’ He growled.

  ‘Your bed chambers,’ Leopold waved the sword around, ‘were we drunk last night?’

  ‘No, what, oh what the hell.’ Gareth leapt out of bed, ‘oh no, no way, what the fuck is going on?’

  ‘You tell me,’ both men were staring at the blood stain on the bed sheets and princess Catherine who was wrapped in the top sheet and smiling like the cat that got the cream.

  ‘It’s ok daddy we are getting married.’

  Gareth was just about to protest when a vision popped into his mind. He grasped his head, ‘oh what the fuck have I done.’

  ‘I think that is quite obvious Gareth, my daughter. How did this come about girl?’

  ‘Gareth climbed in my bedroom window last night and seduced me father.’

  ‘Seduced!’

  ‘He promised to marry me and I gave myself willingly.’

  Leopold slipped the sword away, ‘we will talk later, but not much later.’ He waved the guards out and followed them. Gareth found his shirt and plaid and sat on the bed. Catherine reached for him, he shrugged her off and stood.

  ‘Don’t touch me.’

  Her mood changed, ‘you didn't complain last night.’ She tossed the covers off and got out of bed. Gareth felt his body respond to her naked body but ruthlessly crushed the emotion but not before she noticed. ‘At least some one still remembers me, I didn't think you were that drunk Gareth or were you just trying to make a fool out of me.’

  Gareth sat down again and the headache returned, ‘oh god, I didn't do this.’

  ‘I beg to differ,’ Catherine protested, ‘you did it rather well to, well it was my first time but it felt good to me and y
ou seemed to enjoy it to. Not much into after sex conversation though are you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘And you snore like a pig.’

  ‘I only snore when I'm drunk.’ He shook his head, ‘I can’t remember any of this.’

  ‘Oh thanks, I didn't think I was that pathetic.’

  As much as Gareth tried to deny it to himself strange memories kept coming to the surface. ‘The last thing I remember was going to my bed, I was tired.’

  Catherine appeared before him half dressed with a knife in her hands, for a moment he thought she was going to try and cut his balls off but her intentions were worse, she put the knife to her arm, ‘so help me god if you tell me you were sleep walking I will bleed myself dry right now.’

  Alarmed Gareth snatched the knife from her hands, ‘don’t be a fool girl.’

  ‘I'm not a girl now.’

  The realisation slammed home, he stood, ‘I remember something’s but I also remember going to bed sober. There's something else going on here.’

  ‘Then why do you remember anything at all, do you think I had you carried in here, tied you to the bed forced you to fuck me?’

  ‘No, I climbed in that window,’ the headache began to return, ‘oh wow. That hurts,’ he pressed his hands to his forehead.

  ‘If I was you I would go to your doctor to get that seen too,’ she seemed genuinely concerned.

  ‘I think I will, but I want to talk to you later.’

  ‘Of course my love.’ He hesitated, shook his head and made for the door. She coughed politely and pointed to the window, ‘if you would, it’s bad enough my father knowing, let’s not tell the whole world straight away.’

  ‘Fucks sake.’ Gareth climbed out the window. The fresh sea air helped his head a little but as soon as he climbed into his own room he sent for the wizard and instructed him to come with something for a headache. He went to his bedside and found a half-drunk bottle of whisky; and a drained glass. He recognised it as one of his own stock, a bottle of Glen Grant, a lethal whiskey especially when mixed with something else; he also knew he hadn’t touched it.