unexpected cunning of these barbarians. Evidently the exalted dead laird had seen fit to do a little forgery of his own after my father and I had visited his keep. How interesting. How enterprising. How uncommon.
Perhaps Evangeline had participated in his ruse. Perhaps she was responsible for the ruse and had to recover the genuine relic to hide her guilt. She certainly had the wits for it.
I confess that I found myself even more intrigued with my lovely thief than before.
I looked up at the keep looming high before us. It was built into the side of the hill and had the advantage that it would be spectacularly easy to defend. Why anyone would trouble to defend a sorry piece of turf in this wretched clime was beyond my comprehension, but I can appreciate good construction.
It oft provides boon or bane to my missions. I looked now, assessing the chances of slipping unknown into the stronghold of the keep. It would be difficult, for only one gate broached the wall, and the wall rose high on either side. Behind the main gates and the tower that must be the hall, a pointed roof was starkly etched against the snowy sky. A crucifix graced its summit, just as I recalled. My pulse quickened in recognition of my ultimate destination.
How sweet that the relic was in the same reliquary from which I had stolen it before! I had half-feared that Evangeline would have hidden it elsewhere, but even if she had, on this night it would be in the chapel.
One night was all I needed, after all.
“The truth is that it matters little whether the relic is there.” Tall spoke with such vigor that we all fell silent to listen to his words. He looked suddenly taller, more regal, a man with something to prove. He spoke with the ferocity of a man convinced of his view. “Fergus is a poor leader, either way, a man too far into his dotage to lead Inverfyre.”
“The old laird chose him, Niall,” Fat reminded him.
“The old laird was wrong,” Niall, or Tall, said flatly. He looked both grim and determined. “We should seize whatever tools we must to oust Fergus afore it is too late, and you know it as well as I do, Tarsuinn.”
Tarsuinn, or Fat, looked uncomfortable, and so he should for this was traitorous talk. “He has agreed to produce the relic on this night,” he said, new caution in his tone.
“So he has. What we must decide, comrades, is what we shall do when he fails.” Niall flung aside his cup. “Or what we shall do if he claims to have succeeded.”
The men shifted uneasily, the other two clearly not at ease with Niall’s rebellious tone.
“We owe no less to Inverfyre and the memory of our old laird.” Niall looked fiercely at each of us in turn, seeking support he did not find. I held his gaze for a moment, surprised by the fury in his eyes, knowing that he must be puzzled by the indifference in mine. The chapel bell began to toll and Niall spun away from the group, striding toward the chapel without glancing back.
Tarsuinn cleared his throat. “It will be a relief to know the Titulus where it belongs. Even Niall’s worries will be set to rest.” Dour nodded vigorous agreement to this and Tarsuinn was obviously encouraged. “Indeed, Inverfyre has been blessed as no other holding in all the lands of the King of Scotland.”
I bit my tongue at that. To be blessed was clearly a question of perspective. Sicily is blessed, in my opinion, as are Venice and Constantinople. They are blessed with sunlight and prosperity. No place where a man had to endure such cold as this and such hardship as could be seen in the faces of these residents could be called blessed, not to my thinking.
“It would be a sorry day that its laird proved himself an incompetent custodian of God’s trust,” Dour intoned, and the pair looked to me.
I smiled. “Let us pray that none are disappointed on this night.”
“There is trouble in the wind this night,” Dour said beneath his breath and even Tarsuinn looked uneasy. I stifled a
Perhaps Evangeline had participated in his ruse. Perhaps she was responsible for the ruse and had to recover the genuine relic to hide her guilt. She certainly had the wits for it.
I confess that I found myself even more intrigued with my lovely thief than before.
I looked up at the keep looming high before us. It was built into the side of the hill and had the advantage that it would be spectacularly easy to defend. Why anyone would trouble to defend a sorry piece of turf in this wretched clime was beyond my comprehension, but I can appreciate good construction.
It oft provides boon or bane to my missions. I looked now, assessing the chances of slipping unknown into the stronghold of the keep. It would be difficult, for only one gate broached the wall, and the wall rose high on either side. Behind the main gates and the tower that must be the hall, a pointed roof was starkly etched against the snowy sky. A crucifix graced its summit, just as I recalled. My pulse quickened in recognition of my ultimate destination.
How sweet that the relic was in the same reliquary from which I had stolen it before! I had half-feared that Evangeline would have hidden it elsewhere, but even if she had, on this night it would be in the chapel.
One night was all I needed, after all.
“The truth is that it matters little whether the relic is there.” Tall spoke with such vigor that we all fell silent to listen to his words. He looked suddenly taller, more regal, a man with something to prove. He spoke with the ferocity of a man convinced of his view. “Fergus is a poor leader, either way, a man too far into his dotage to lead Inverfyre.”
“The old laird chose him, Niall,” Fat reminded him.
“The old laird was wrong,” Niall, or Tall, said flatly. He looked both grim and determined. “We should seize whatever tools we must to oust Fergus afore it is too late, and you know it as well as I do, Tarsuinn.”
Tarsuinn, or Fat, looked uncomfortable, and so he should for this was traitorous talk. “He has agreed to produce the relic on this night,” he said, new caution in his tone.
“So he has. What we must decide, comrades, is what we shall do when he fails.” Niall flung aside his cup. “Or what we shall do if he claims to have succeeded.”
The men shifted uneasily, the other two clearly not at ease with Niall’s rebellious tone.
“We owe no less to Inverfyre and the memory of our old laird.” Niall looked fiercely at each of us in turn, seeking support he did not find. I held his gaze for a moment, surprised by the fury in his eyes, knowing that he must be puzzled by the indifference in mine. The chapel bell began to toll and Niall spun away from the group, striding toward the chapel without glancing back.
Tarsuinn cleared his throat. “It will be a relief to know the Titulus where it belongs. Even Niall’s worries will be set to rest.” Dour nodded vigorous agreement to this and Tarsuinn was obviously encouraged. “Indeed, Inverfyre has been blessed as no other holding in all the lands of the King of Scotland.”
I bit my tongue at that. To be blessed was clearly a question of perspective. Sicily is blessed, in my opinion, as are Venice and Constantinople. They are blessed with sunlight and prosperity. No place where a man had to endure such cold as this and such hardship as could be seen in the faces of these residents could be called blessed, not to my thinking.
“It would be a sorry day that its laird proved himself an incompetent custodian of God’s trust,” Dour intoned, and the pair looked to me.
I smiled. “Let us pray that none are disappointed on this night.”
“There is trouble in the wind this night,” Dour said beneath his breath and even Tarsuinn looked uneasy. I stifled a
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