J. Tomlin - The Intelligencer

A gaffer shambled in and sat at a table near the window. Una said, "Is there aught else? I have work to do. I cannae stand here blathering all day."

"Dinnae let me stop you," Law said. She gave him an unhappy look when he didn't go, but pulled a tankard of ale and went to serve it. When he finished, he put down the tankard and tilted his head toward the door. "I want to take a look out back again." He grinned at Cormac. "Duniwassal, is it?"

Cormac lifted his hands and let them fall. "If I ever was, I am nae one now." He hurried ahead of Law out the door.

Law raised an eyebrow but decided he should let the matter rest. After all, he could understand that losing your status hurt, but it was strange that not once had Cormac ever mentioned it to him. Instead he strolled around the tavern into the backyard. Besides the brewing equipment, the yard held a few apple trees, which explained the hint of apple in the ale. A girl he recognized from the night before last was scattering feed for some hens.

He gazed across the field to the spot where he had found Blacader's body. He imagined the man coming out of the tavern and coming out here… Why?

"The horsemen were there." He pointed to where the grasses were trampled. "Even in the dark, I think you would see them, and though it is a waning moon, it was nae a completely black night."

"Let's look," Cormac said, seemingly having forgotten his distress at Law's joke, and strode in that direction. "We might should come out at night to be sure. I doubt you were thinking of that after you found his body."

"No, I was thinking of sending for the watch."

Cormac deftly hopped over the fence, and Law followed a bit less gracefully. They both hunkered down to look at the horse tracks.

Law pointed to the piles of horse shit. "They waited at least a while here."

"Where was the body?"

"Under the trees." He rose and walked slowly in that direction, scanning the ground as he hadn't been able to do in the dark. Near the trees, he saw marks in the ground amongst the weeds. He knelt and used his fingers to push back strands of heather.

There were foot tracks, those of a man, that had hardened in the mud deeply enough that yesterday's rain had not quite washed them out. He pushed back more of the heather, searching. They were the footprints of one man, barely remaining now, and partly covered by the spring green heather and gorse. He had walked toward the trees. Cormac pointed to another track farther ahead just under the first overhanging branches. The rest had been washed away.

In the copse, Law pointed to about where Blacader's body had lain, but the rain had cleaned away any blood or sign. "About here." He made a spreading motion. "And his scrip open with the coins scattered."

"Ah." Cormac stooped and picked up a silver groat that had been missed to hold up. "Even if it wasn't what they were seeking, it is odd they did nae take the siller."

"Rushed, mayhap, but no one at the tavern admits having heard anything, and no one raised the hue and cry."

Cormac walked in a wide circle around the trees, kicking at the thick pad of needles. "I dinnae see anything else."

"There was no sign he tried to run. It was a clean blow from the front. Is that likely if it was a thief? And not many thieves in these parts ride horses." Law put his hands on his hips and looked around in disgust. "We'll nae find anything else here."

"So where do we look next?"

"Where I look next, I think, is in Glasgow. I believe Wulle expects you to be looking to your harp though, not traipsing about with me."

Cormac laughed. "Wulle expects many things he does nae get. Besides if you are asking around in taverns where they went, it may be that I can learn more than you can. People talk and dinnae think the minstrel is listening."

"And the minstrel may be caught listening and have his throat cut." He blew out a huff in exasperation. "Cormac, that was a vicious blow that killed Blacader. And Syme is lucky to be alive. I dinnae…" Law shook his head. "Whoever I'm seeking is a dangerous man. I dinnae want to put someone else in his way."

"I'll be careful, you may be sure of that. And who saved whom from that friar?" Cormac raised his eyebrow. "You need me to keep you alive."

Law pinched the bridge of his nose hard. "Very well, but this time, you will mind what I tell you." He walked with Cormac back through the South Port and to the corner of Watergate Street to Horseman's Inn to bespeak two horses for early the next morning. He hadn't often had a chance to go far from Perth since his return to Scotland, and it seemed almost like a holiday. The spring air was fine; he had missed riding; and Cormac was good company. He smiled at being able to escape threats from the bedamned lord sheriff. Altogether, he was pleased with the necessity.

In order to ride all the way to Stirling in the day, Law decided they would need to make an early start, so he told Cormac to meet him before daylight. With only a few fingers of dawn reaching into the night sky, he splashed cold water in his face from the basin, donned his hauberk, buckled on his sword, put his dirk in his belt, and stumbled down the stairs, yawning and carrying his saddlebag. Mall and Anny were already bent over the hearth baking bannocks on an iron griddle, filling the air with the comforting scent.

"This is nae ready yet," Mall said, "but if you take what is left from yesterday, I'll nae put it on your chit. And there is a slice of cheese and an apple that is nae too wrinkled."

Anny hopped up. "I'll wrap it up for you."

Cormac strolled through the door, his lute case slung across his back, and asked, "Are you ready yet? It will soon be ringing prime."

Anny bustled over with a wrapped bundle that looked as though it held more than her mother had approved. Law smiled his thanks. "Aye. And thank you, Mall. That will save me time."

Mall sniffed. "No telling what kind of food you'll find in that Glasgow. This way you will nae starve."

Law managed not to smile. "Not with one of your bannocks to fill my belly. Now I must be away." He picked up his saddlebag with a change of clothes so that he could change out of his hauberk once he reached Glasgow, for only a fool traveled the roads of Scotland without preparing for trouble.

Sunrise was only a splash of gold across the horizon, and they passed only a sole cart carrying firewood as they walked up Watergate Street to the Horseman's Inn. They found the horses already saddled, as he had ordered the day before. The auburn roan named Aifric had nice black points and looked as though it would have stamina enough. The one Cormac had chosen was younger and frisky, but Law had some doubts about it for a long day's riding.

By the road through the port, vespers was ringing, and the sky lightened to pewter. Perth ended at the Tower Port, but houses and runrigs and workshops ran along the west side of the road, behind each a shed for a cow or pig and a kailyard for growing vegetables. Some had an orchard with trees showing their bright spring-green dresses. On the east side, at a large mill, the huge wheel was already turning, powered by the flow of the River Tay.

It was nearly forty miles to Stirling, so Law took it steadily, keeping to a brisk walk after his first rush. When he reckoned they were about halfway and the sun was at its zenith, he called for a rest under a spreading ash that was just coming into leaf. Then he led the horses to the edge of a nearby stream to drink and broke the oat bannock in two to share with Cormac.

The normally talkative minstrel had been thoughtful and unusually quiet, but as he munched the oat bannock, he said, "How many men do you suppose there are in Glasgow?"

Law thought about it for a while as he chewed the bannock. "Not as large as Perth, but with the cathedral and the port, it has a good few men in it. Why?"