J. Tomlin - The Intelligencer

"Good day," the man said. "Sir Archibald Stralothe. Stay where you are."

Law looked around at Stralothe's men, who all held drawn swords. He exchanged a glance with Dave Taylor, who was sheathing his own weapons. He said, "Stay still, Cormac, until we can see to your head." He turned to Stralothe and continued, "We're travelling to Perth and were attacked by men I must assume are outlaws. We've done nothing wrong."

"You must be carrying valuables to attract such an attack."

"Not at all. Nothing beyond our weapons and no more siller than any man might carry. Though in these times, that is enough for some desperate men, I suppose." He thrust his chin toward the injured attacker. "And he is one of the attackers. If his wounds are bound, it may be he can reach Stirling and be questioned. I doubt the king wants outlaws robbing within sight of the burgh."

Sir Archibald raised a skeptical eyebrow but said, "You may look to your minstrel if you want."

Law bent over Cormac but the minstrel pushed him away and stood, swaying a little, and glared at the newcomer. "I'm my own minstrel, thank you."

Sir Archibald nodded to one of his men. "Sandy, bind his wound." He nodded thoughtfully as his man worked over the prisoner. "You'll accompany me to the castle and give a full account of what happened here."

"I assure you that we've done nothing wrong," Law said. "But if I tell you why we were on the road, I hope you will let us go on our way. Though you may want to have one of your men see to him. He may live to reach a dungeon."

"Very well," said Sir Archibald. He ordered one of his men to see to the prisoner. "Though I'll ask that you make it brief."

"I'll try." Law recounted, with the omission of Taylor's slaying of the intelligencer in Glasgow, how he had come to be tasked with discovering Neill Blacader’s murderer and their attempts to track down what the murderer may have been seeking.

"So you are acting under the instructions of the lord sheriff of Perth," said the knight when Law had finished. "Is there any reason I should believe this tale?"

"I had no reason to ask the lord sheriff to give me instructions in writing," Law said. "To confirm my story, you'd need to send to Perth, Sir Archibald, but I think the flight of our attackers at the sight of you is good evidence that they were the wrongdoers in this fight."

The prisoner now had cloth stuffed against his wound and more wrapped around him to hold it in place. Law tilted his head and nudged the man's leg with his foot. "I suppose you might put this miscreant to the question. I'd like to hear the answer to why they attacked us."

When questioned, the man admitted his name was Giles and that he was from a croft near Edinburgh. He moaned and wrapped his arms around himself. "I'm dying. You cannae do worse to me than you've already done."

Sir Archibald bent to gaze down at him. "We can make your dying gey painful, man."

"Och, I need a priest. I'm dying, I tell you."

"I expect we'll call one eventually. Mayhap while you still live." Sir Archibald straightened.

"Mercy! Let me be shriven or I'll burn in Hell." He moaned and rolled back and forth on the ground. "I was only hired to help. He went to meet some man that night near the little tavern outside Perth. They argued because the man did nae have what he was supposed to bring, wanted more money. So Matt cut him down like it was nothing, one swing of his battle-ax."

"Aye, that was how it looked when I found the body," Law confirmed. "Then they searched Neill Blacader's home."

"He had us wait at a tavern in Perth, the Blindman's Tavern it was. Then today he said we had to stop you from finding the letter before he did, because he'd had no luck in finding it."

"Who else was in your little band? Was it only the three of you?" Law asked.

"The other's name was Jemmie. I never kent his surname. Matt found us at the Rearing Unicorn in Edinburgh. He was looking to get a delivery for his maister, he said, and he hired the two of us in the tavern. It was nae even supposed to be any fighting as far as we were told." He whimpered as Law turned to check that Cormac was still on his feet. The minstrel, pale as whey, was holding onto his saddlebow.

"What was in the letter?" Law turned back and glared down at the man.

"He never said. I dinnae if he kent what it was, but he was desperate to find it."

"And who was his maister?" Sir Archibald asked.

"He never said, maister. He did nae even tell us his whole name, just Matt. Neither of us kent nothing more."

"Matt…" Law looked up at Sir Archibald. "A big man who prefers to wield a battleax. Is anyone like that familiar to you?"

Sir Archibald rubbed his chin as he considered this. "No."

"Did this Matt say anything else? Where he was from? Did he mention anyone else?"

Giles stared at him and shook his head.

"How did he sound? Like he was from around here?"

"No." Giles shook his head again. "He sounded like a Highlander to me. I thought mayhap he was from Aberdeen or thereabouts." He frowned. "He had that soft roll to his talk the way Highlanders do."

"What did he look like?"

Giles's voice rose to a plaintive wail. "You saw him. A big man. With a battleax." Then his eyes rolled back in his head.

Law bent and touched Giles's throat and felt his pulse still beating, but the bandage over his wound was now blood-soaked. He looked up at Sir Archibald. "If you're going to take him to the castle, now would be the time. We'll learn nae more from him, I expect." He looked up at the sky. "It's late, and my friend needs to rest. So we'll overnight in Stirling town. If you have more questions for us, you'll find us yon."

Sir Archibald had the unconscious attacker slung over the saddlebow of one of his men, and they moved off toward Stirling. The man groaned occasionally, showing he was still alive, but Law still doubted he would last long, and certainly not in a dungeon. At least he'd have a priest before he died.

Sir Archibald left them to climb the winding road to the castle while the three of them stopped at a tavern in the town. Law was still musing on what to make of the story Giles had told.

"What the devil do you think this is all about?" Cormac asked as Law pushed him down on a bench. "Could it be the duke-?"

"Wheesht. Not here, though that is a damned good question," Law responded. "And I wonder where our ax-bearing friend was searching in Perth before he decided to come after us."

Cormac whispered, "The queen is English and related to the duke of Gloucester, aye?"

Dave Taylor, who had been unusually silent ever since the attack, narrowed his eyes to slits at Cormac. "That kind of talk could get you killed."

Cormac froze and stared at Taylor. He opened his mouth and closed it.

Taylor smiled. Law felt Cormac shudder, but Taylor slapped Law on the shoulder as though they were friends. At Law's glare, he said mildly, "I'm off to find my employer and tell him of this. It is even more serious than I thought. In the meantime, it's best if you find that letter."

Law had heard nothing further from Sir Archibald when he and Cormac left for Perth the next morning. Cormac's head was bound in a linen bandage. He scowled as though it ached, but he said as long as his lute had survived, he didn’t care. Law decided they should take their time leaving, so they broke their fast with barley bread and soft cheese before Law donned his hauberk and sword. He looked about as they rode out of Stirling but saw no sign of the elusive sometimes rat catcher and sometimes spy.

After an hour or two, Cormac said, "What could be in a letter from England? Do you think it might be for Murdoch Stewart?"

Law looked up at the sky where fleecy clouds chased the light wind and sighed. "It may be. His father wanted the crown and would have gotten it, if he could have laid hands on King James when he was a lad. Or so I've heard. But…" He shook his head. "Murdoch is an old man now. What kind of scheme would he concoct? One so secret that men must be murdered to hide it."