Blair opened her mouth to tell her father her story, but he interjected, looking at Slaine with a ferocious stare. “If I find out ye’ve danced a May Day jig with me daughter, I swear…”
Slaine said quietly, “I better go an’ sit in me bedchamber, Blair...er...Miss Carmichael. It will give ye time to explain.”
And he left father and daughter sitting in front of the parlor fire together.
Blair flared up. “Really, Faither, it’s me who should be storming! Ye disappear with nary a word and then come barging into the taproom like an unwelcome summer’s day squall! It was just a light buss on the mouth, and from the way ye are behaving, ye’d think Slaine and I were dancin’ naked together in the town square!”
Angus hung his head, and instantly, Blair was sorry for her outburst.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Faither, but I have been searchin’ for ye high an’ low, and to find ye here, and then all ye have to say is yelling on about me kissin’ Slaine, well, it’s prodigiously upsetting.”
Angus reached for his daughter’s hand. “Forgive me, dearest daughter. The last week has been so terrifying that I was grateful for one moment, havin’ something happen to take me mind off me worries.”
Blair patted her father’s hand. “Tell me everything that has happened, Faither. I promise ye, Slaine is the man to help ye sort it out.”
Angus sighed and took a plate of chicken off the parlor table.
“I’m starving, Blair. Tell me yer side of things first while I eat, and when ye’ve finished yer story, then I can disclose me wretched tale in full. It’s nae a pretty picture, I warn ye, so ye must first promise me that ye’ll still hold affection for me in yer heart after I’m done tellin’ it.”
Blair told Angus the steps she had taken to find him since the evening he did not return from Flichity. She glossed over the more harebrained of her exploits and skipped over the dangerous ones entirely. Her father was left with the impression that Blair, prompted by the urgings of her mother, had set out searching for him, bumped into Slaine at an inn, and formed a partnership with him in exchange for gold.
“So far, we’ve traveled light, this being our first stop at a town after Slaine discovered in which direction ye were headed. Much of the four gold sovereigns remain, and I left two for Mither. There’s still plenty of gold left at home…”
The unspoken question dangled in the air between father and daughter: If Angus had gold in the parlor back at the farm, why was he risking his life to earn more by such dangerous means?
Angus sat gazing at the fire for a brief minute, half a consumed chicken leg in his hand, then seemed to realize it was time to open his budget to his daughter.
“Blair, I owe ye an explanation and an apology. I’m all of a dither to ken which one to give ye first?”
“The explanation,” Blair insisted.
Angus sat back in the armchair and began his story, only this time there was no hero, just a simple man who desired a little excitement out of his humdrum life.
“Ye ken I’ve always had a fancy for more adventure, Daughter. I saw meself slipping into a predictable routine of herding, sowing, and harvesting, and couldnae stand the thought of it! I’m in the prime o’ me life, Blair! All I have to look forward to in the next ten or twenty years is the gradual decline of me strength and health, and then the grave! It chilled me to the bone!”
She nodded in understanding. Blair knew exactly what her father was saying.
“So, nothing daunted, when I overheard two gentlemen discussing how to transport goods from one town to the other, and I ken it was along me route from the market, I said I would do it. Everything went well. I would ride to Flichity, pick up a bundle or packet, and drop it off in Cromachy on me way home.”
Blair could sense her father’s perplexity at how things had managed to go wrong so quickly.
“I met some truly interesting characters at first. Pickpockets, vagrants, poachers; fascinating people with many a riveting tale to tell. Then my errands took on a much darker tone. Stolen horses and cattle, sneak thieves, and highwaymen—all hanging offenses. I was no longer flirting with deportation, I was dancing within sight o’ the hangman’s noose!”
His daughter gave a shiver at the thought of her father hanging in the town square with their friends and neighbors, watching him fight to breathe.
“It was me greed that drove me to accept ever more dangerous tasks. Ye ken only one o’ the places where I hide me gold. I have a few more dotted over the farm. But what good would all that wealth do me family if I was too dead to give it to them? So, I began to refuse the errands, saying me family was suspicious, me wife was ill, the chaplain’s sermon had made me see the error of me ways—anything to make them leave me alone.
“They seemed to accept me reluctance with good grace, until one market day when they said I must do one more job for them before they would accept me retirement. I recognized the man who came to sit with me. He is a known slaver and trafficker—a man with no heart—who sleeps like a bairn at night with the screams of his cargo ringin’ in his ears.”
A stillness had settled over the room. The only sounds were the shouts of alehouse patrons down below and the crackle of the fire.
“What was the job?” Blair could not stop herself from asking.
Angus let out a shuddering sigh. “It was to drive a wagon from Flichity Harbor to Cromachy. An enclosed wagon, such as the ones used to carry fighting dogs and madmen too crazed for the public to see without being made downright distraught by the sight. They said I had to do it because I’m innocent in the eyes of town wardens and the like, and it would raise no questions.”
Blair said hopefully, “It seems like nae such a bad thing to be asked to do, Faither. What was the cargo, or was the wagon empty?”
“Oh, Daughter, dinnae hate me! The wagon’s cargo was a woman. She was nae auld enough to be a maiden, nor so long in the tooth to be called a crone. She was just some poor woman, but nae yet so downtrodden that she had given up tryin’ to escape. They had her ankles shackled like a common vagabond, and yet there was a fightin’ sparkle still in her eyes! She was too proud to beg for freedom from the knaves who held her captive, but when I was left alone with her on the journey to Cromachy, she pleaded with me most ardently to let her go.”
“What?! Ye agreed to carry her hence? Have ye no shame, Faither?” Blair was aghast at what Angus was telling her.
He raised a hand and held it up. “Hear me out, hear me out! Please!” When Blair had sat back in her chair, Angus continued.
“I agreed to drive the wagon, with the woman caged and hidden in the back and all, because I had resolved to set her free along the route.”
Blair nodded encouragingly at these words. “I ken I could trust ye to do the trick, Faither,” she said approvingly.
Angus shifted unhappily in his chair, unconsciously rubbing the side of his face that bore all the bruises and cuts. “I stopped to buy a file from Jake, the blacksmith, and then waited until we were well clear of Flichity but close enough to Cromachy for the woman to make her way there without too much walking. Then I set to it with the file.”
“Before or after the loch?” Blair said.
“After,” Angus said, “but I misjudged the craftiness of her captors. They had sent a scout to follow me, misliking the way I viewed me errand in all likelihood. By the time I had stopped the wagon and begun to file away at the poor girl’s chains, the scout had time to ride like the wind into Cromachy and inform the men waiting for her there. He must have ridden behind the brambles to stop me from seeing him pass.”
Blair, now familiar with the route, agreed with this reasoning.
“Those brutes value her as a great prize; a woman with no friend or family to raise concerns about her whereabouts or occupation. They descended on us like a pack o’ wolves, just as I was giving the lass some coins for food and clothing.”
“Caught in a trap,” Blair said sadly.
15
The Ot
her Bedchamber
Father and daughter sat gloomily in front of the fireplace in contemplative silence. Blair was imagining the life the woman must have led during her captivity and felt a sense of dread and despair descend over her.
“Faither,” she said quietly, and Angus lifted his bent head when he heard her voice. “I am nae so young anymore and have heard tell of the women who follow scoundrels and common foot soldiers around. They style themselves camp followers and serving wenches, but they do it willingly, and no one forces them to transfer their affections from one man to another. They are there on their own accord and what they do is of their own free will.”
Angus nodded to show he was following her line of reasoning.
“Aye, Daughter. They provide a necessary service if that's what ye can call it. The men, whether bandits or soldiers, come back to camp and there’s a hot meal waiting for them and a pair of warm arms when they have the time to think of caresses.”
“Aye, but that’s what’s botherin’ me. Why would they want this woman, out of all the camp followers and willing wenches available to them, to stay with them against her will? There are probably dozens of women—none of whom they would have to keep in chains—quite happy to keep camp for them and warm their beds. So why keep this one? Did she say for how long she had been a thrall?”
Angus realized he had not told Blair about his brief conversation with the woman while he was filing her chains off.
“The wagon was made so neither scream nor shout could leave the box, but when I let her out, I didnae have to ask her questions. The poor lass was as keen to tell her story as I was to listen to it.”
“What did she say?”
“She said the men who took her from her village were bandits, brought there by the rumor of hidden gold.
“The story goes that the local Laird had uncovered a treasure of sorts, something left behind by the Norse raiders or Roman legions before them...it wasnae clear. When word got out about crocks o’ gold lying around the auld kerk, well, the next thing ye ken the place was attacked by bandits. The rogues who row from coastal inlet to cove, lookin’ for easy prey. All it took was one loose mouth at the village tavern.
“From her account, the attack was swift and brutal. But therein lay the flaw in their plan—the stupid ruffians killed everyone and expected to find the treasure layin’ around the kerk waiting for them! Of course, it wasnae, and there was no one left alive to tell them where it was hidden.”
“All except the woman,” Blair said.
“Aye.” Angus had a grim look on his face. “But she was nae a woman then, just a wee lass hiding under her bed, hardly auld enough to take communion. But they assured themselves she would ken where the gold was, except there was one hitch.”
“What was that?”
“Their usual methods of extracting information couldnae be used on a wee slip of a girl. What were they going to do? Hold her feet over burning coals until she spilled the beans? So, they had no choice other than to take her with them, force her into a life of slavery and servitude, and keep her in chains until she could bear it no longer and tell them the hiding place. She swore to them she didnae ken where the gold was...she was too young to be involved in such important village business at the time.
“But by then, the bandits had become used to having her with them. They left her maidenhead alone, there being plenty of willing women in the taverns to satisfy their lust, and besides, their slave would have been of no use to them if she’d had a pack o’ brats to raise and look after.”
“I suppose that’s some kind of a blessing,” Blair acknowledged, but then she remembered the sweet sensation of Slaine’s mouth on her lips and felt very sad for the woman to have never experienced such joy. “How long has she been held captive? Ye mentioned she was no longer in her youth.”
Angus gave Blair’s question some thought. “I can be held no judge of the woman’s age, and the poor wretch had no idea of how long she had been a thrall. I think she can be no older than forty years of age.”
Blair blanched and stood up. “And ye say she was taken as a child! Kept in bonds and slavery for over thirty years!”
The thought of the woman’s suffering made Blair’s head spin. Maybe it was the stuffiness of the room or the fatigue of her long journey catching up with her, but Blair felt herself stagger and stumble to the bedchamber, knowing she had to lie down so she could process the things she had just heard.
Slaine looked up as she banged open the door. “What’s wrong, lass? Are ye ill?” He moved to where Blair was swaying, picked her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing at all, and laid her gently down on the bed. Blair moaned softly and curled herself up into a ball under the covers, pulling a pillow over her head.
Slaine went into the parlor. “Whatever did ye say to her, sir? She looks as though she’s seen a ghost.”
Angus was slumped down in his armchair beside the fireplace, looking just as miserable as Blair. “Dinnae make me tell the whole story over again, I beg ye! Just ken the final errand I undertook was one entailing the transport of a woman. I tried to free her, they found out, and here we all are. Blair found it so upsetting, she had to go lie down. And I cannae blame her.”
Slaine grunted and seemed content to accept this explanation.
“Will they leave ye alone now? Ye mentioned it being yer final task.”
Angus rubbed the side of his injured face. “Aye, the bridge is burnt, thank the heavens for that. They no longer trust me and have given me such a beating as a farewell gift, I will never set foot in the Phoenix willingly again.”
“Will they nae seek revenge? Or demand their gold back?”
Angus shook his head wearily. “Nay, they will let bygones be bygones and leave well alone. They have their woman, I have me beating, and that’s the end of it.”
Slaine said softly, “So, it seems our adventure is at an end.”
Angus heaved himself up off the armchair and said, “Well, Blair’s and mine are, at any rate. I dinnae ken about yers. I just need a wee sleep, and then we’ll be on our way back home. I’ll get the gold off her when she rises in the morning, and once ye have yer fee in hand, ye can go.”
He pointed at the room in which Blair lay. “If that’s one bedchamber, and this is the parlor, I’m guessin’ this door over here is t’other bedchamber?”
Slaine was looking abstractedly at the flames dancing in the hearth and did not look up at Angus, just nodded his head briefly.
“Right then, that’s the one I’ll be using for me wee nap. Ye can use the truckle bed if ye promise nae to wake me, though I doubt any truckle bed would be big enough for ye. However, wake me at dawn, will ye? I need to arrange the hire of a horse and gig. I dinnae fancy the idea of Blair riding all the way back home on Pooka.”
And with those words, Angus opened the other bedchamber door to prepare for bed.
“Hoy there! Get out o’ me bedchamber, I say!” There was already a man in the middle of the bed in the other room. He had his nightcap pulled firmly over his head and was fumbling for the lantern on the table beside him.
Angus had had a very long and tiring day. He was not in the mood for some assertive stranger telling him what to do.
“‘Tis ye who have the manner o’ things wrong, fella! This room was hired by me daughter. If I have to call the innkeeper in here to turf ye out o’ doors, I will!”
By this time, the man had used his flint to light the lantern and was hopping around trying to find the leg holes in his trews.
“Ye’re drunk, ye mad sot!” the man shouted at Angus. “I paid for this room, and the maid showed me up here nae one hour ago! Begone before I fetch a soldier!”
He suddenly went quiet when he saw Slaine’s massive outline in the doorway behind Angus.
“It’s just a simple misunderstanding, I’m sure,” Slaine said calmly. “I, meself, commissioned this suite from the innkeeper this afternoon. Please stay here while I sort it out. There’s sure to be ano
ther room available somewhere.”
Both men simmered down at his words; Slaine was not the sort of man anyone was keen to ignore.
Angus and the stranger bowed politely to one another and Angus backed out as Slaine closed the door behind him.
The two men turned from the doorway to see Blair standing in the parlor behind them.
“Ye both have it wrong,” she said. “‘Twas I who told the innkeeper to let the other bedchamber go.”
It took a while for Slaine and Angus to process her words, but when they understood what she was implying, it had different effects on them.
A look of hope came into Slaine’s eyes, as though the dark thoughts he had been thinking by the fireplace had disappeared.
Angus, on the other hand, was furious all over again.
“Skuldudrie! I ken it! Oh, that I should live to see the day when me own daughter finds a way to lower herself in the eyes of her family and her neighbors.”
Blair had had enough. “Be quiet, Faither, and how dare ye lecture me on morals! ‘Tis ye who should be ashamed!”
Angus was silent at her words.
Blair continued, looking her father straight in the eyes as she spoke. “I’m auld enough to ken what I do, Faither, and Slaine has been there for me when ye most definitely werenae! He’s me hero, a fine figure of a man, and gentlemanly enough for me to have had to plan this without his knowledge.
“The two of ye must sort out yer differences in the morning, and I care nae where ye both sleep. I suggest ye ask the maid to push some truckle beds into the parlor if there be no more bedchambers.”
There was a bang from behind the other door. “Please be quiet, I want to sleep!”
“And so do I,” she said and on those words, Blair turned on her heels and went back into her room, closing the door with a loud click.
The two men said nothing more and went downstairs to find alternate sleeping arrangements.
16
Highlander’s Road to Valor: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 9
