Chapter 1

"Evening, Ian."

"How gaes it Ian?"

"Fair weather taeday, Ian."

The people of the village called out to Ian MacKendrick as he and his apprentice, Rory McKenzie, guided their horse, Pip, through the village. The horse pulled a wagon filled with heavy cargo. Draped upon the barrels and crates was a thick leather tarpaulin. Ian, who was 28, had been a fixture in town for a long time and was known to many people. Aside from his constant presence, he was also memorable for his striking appearance. He had a glowering look about him, tall and imposing. His arms were thick from hammering at the forge day in and day out, his shoulders broad, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Flinty eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and they studied the world with an inscrutable gaze. He returned their greetings with a happy smile and a jaunty wave, although this response was not mimicked by his companion. Ian cast his swarthy looks to the younger boy and glared at him, the forced smile falling from his face for a moment.

"Ye should look happy, lad. If ye keep shifting yer gaze around like that, then people are gaeing tae become suspicious," he whispered.

"What if they are suspicious already?" Rory replied in a hurried tone, moving his gaze from side to side. Ian rolled his eyes.

"I hae been daeing this long enough now tae know when people are suspicious. Just enjoy life. We are nae daeing anything wrong," Ian replied. Rory muttered something under his breath that Ian didn't quite catch, but he wasn't about to make a song and dance about it. Rory was a good lad, but he lacked the kind of steel that was necessary in this world. From what Ian knew of his family, they lived on a farm. He probably hadn't seen any trouble in his entire life, but he would have to learn quickly if he was going to make it in the world. Life had a way of grinding you down, and if you didn't learn to become as hard as a stone, then you were going to be crushed.

"Hae ye given any thought tae what I said?" Ian asked, trying to change the subject.

Rory looked away again, and his cheeks reddened. "I dinnae think it's right for me tae dae something like that."

"What?" Ian exclaimed, his thick, black eyebrows rising sharply. "Ye are a young lad away from yer home. It's exactly the right time for something like this. The world is filled with opportunities for ye, Rory, and trust me, there are plenty of women who are looking for a good time with a strong lad like ye."

"I just want tae focus on learning all ye can teach me."

Ian tutted. "I'm trying that, lad, but ye keep ignoring my lessons!"

"I mean about blacksmithing. I dinnae know what ye can teach me about romance considering ye dinnae hae a wife," Rory shot back, cocking an eyebrow in Ian's direction. Ian took mock offense.

"That tongue of yers is gaeing tae get ye in trouble one of these days. And my personal life is none of ye business. I could get a wife whenever I wanted, if I sae wished. I just prefer my life the way it is. All wives dae is make a fuss of things." He felt his throat tighten as he spoke the lie. The truth was that he would have very much liked someone to make his home warm, to offer companionship, but all of those things were just illusions that could be dispelled. Wanting things in this life was a risky business, and having things was even worse, for they could always be taken away. It was better not to think about it.

"Then I dinnae know why ye are trying tae help me meet a lass."

"Because a lass is different from a wife. She can help ye learn how tae sharpen yer sword in a different way than I can," a barking laugh rippled from Ian's throat, and he put his hand on his side. Rory just grimaced and shook his head.

"I dinnae see how ye can be sae relaxed at a time like this."

"A time like what? Yer problem is that ye worry tae much. Just take life as it comes, lad, naething bad is gaeing tae happen." As Ian said this, Rory stiffened and the color drained from his cheeks. Ian followed his gaze and saw guards heading towards him. They wore dark uniforms with the Boyd sigil stitched in gold. Long swords hung from their hips, fine weapons that were just aching to draw blood.

"Evening, are ye in need of any services? My shop is just around that corner. Come by later when I am done with this delivery," Ian said, speaking with practiced ease. He tried to glare at Rory, wishing that the boy was more comfortable with acting naturally. The guards tilted their heads as they looked between Ian and Rory.

"We dinnae need anything like that, but we could use some information. It's a wee bit late for ye tae be making a delivery, nae?"

"Ah, unfortunately people in my line of work rarely get tae sleep, nae if we want tae keep busy," Ian said smoothly.

"We're looking for a fugitive," the guard's eyes lingered over the cart. "Hae ye seen anyone acting suspiciously around here?"

Ian pretended to think for a moment, and then shook his head. "Nae, I hae just been getting things ready for this delivery," he patted his wagon.

"And what about ye, lad? Hae ye seen anything suspicious?" the guards turned to Rory.

"I hae nae," he said, but his words rolled with emotion and his eyes flicked about, never meeting the guard's gaze. He couldn't have done a better job of acting suspiciously if he tried.

"What are ye delivering?" the other guard asked. Ian tried not to let his unease show.

"Just some supplies for a tavern, utensils and the like."

"Show me."

"As ye wish," Ian said. He drew back the tarpaulin and then opened one of the crates. The guard stepped forward. Rory looked as though he was going to throw up, while Ian just smiled. He reached into the crate and pulled out a handful of utensils. They clinked together. The guard peered over and reached in himself, rooting around for a couple of moments.

"They're good, aye? Fit for the keep. Ye know, if ye put in a good word for me, I'm sure I could arrange tae share some of the profits with ye," Ian wore a zealous look.

"Come on, we're just wasting our time here," the other guard said. The one who had been inspecting the cargo gave Ian a disdainful look and then turned on his heels. The two guards marched in step with each other.

"What a miserable bunch they are," Ian muttered as he pulled the tarpaulin back over his cargo. Rory had an amazed look on his face.

"How were ye sae relaxed? My heart was ready tae jump out of my chest!"

Ian grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Because they dinnae know what we really hae under here, and ye heard them, they were nae here for me. If ye hae nae seemed sae shifty, they probably would nae hae paid us any attention at all."

"I'm sorry," Rory said, hanging his head in shame. Ian walked over to him and put his hand on Rory's shoulder.

"Dinnae be like that, lad. Ye are here tae learn, after all. Just try and relax. As long as we are careful when it matters, then we'll be safe. But two guards looking for someone else are nae gaeing tae be bothered with searching some blacksmith's wagon. They're only gaeing tae be suspicious if ye give them a reason tae be. Better tae be tae friendly with them if ye ask me, because then they're nae gaeing tae try and move on as quickly as possible. I've been daeing this for long enough to I know what I'm talking about. Sometimes in life ye hae tae dae whatever ye can tae make a wee bit of money. It's nae like we're hurting anyone, is it? We're just breaking some silly law that hae nae reason tae exist in the first place."

"I'd like tae hear ye tell the Laird that," Rory teased as they got the horse moving again.

"Aye, well, if I ever stand before him, then I will. I cannae believe his advisors dinnae tell him how stupid he was being in the first place. He needs someone up there tae talk some sense intae him. I tell ye, I think everyone in that castle must hae lost their minds a long time agae. They could dae with living down here among the real people sae they understand what life is really like. But that will never happen," when he started speaking, his tone had been light, but it soured as his face darkened.

They continued through the village until they reached a tavern on the outskirts. They tied Pip, and she slaked her thirst in a trough, while Ian and Rory carried one of the crates into the tavern, through a back entrance. The sound of the patrons inside the tavern was rowdy and they were clearly enjoying themselves. Ian smiled to himself, knowing how much of a part he played in this. Since they were all so focused on having fun, they were unlikely to notice Ian and Rory as well. Ian nodded to the cook, who gestured for them to come into the kitchen, in private. He was expecting them.

Ian and Rory carefully placed the crate on the table. They opened it and the cook inspected the utensils.

"Fine craftsmanship. And ye hae someone new," the cook said, turning a beady eye towards Rory.

"Aye, this is my apprentice. He's come from the McLeod clan and wanted tae learn about blacksmithing from the master," Ian boasted. Rory looked at him with a strange look, never having said this at all, but he did not dispute it in front of Ian. Ian had never seen a problem with taking an opportunity to advertise his services or make himself look good. A little bit of boasting could go a long way, although the cook had been dealing with Ian for long enough that he wasn't fazed by Ian's words.

"Now, let's see yer other wares," the cook said. Ian pulled off the top of the crate. A false bottom was underneath, containing bottles of whiskey.

"It's even better than the last batch," Ian said. The cook took a bottle and held it up to the light. Then, he opened it and poured some into a small glass. He breathed in the aroma and then shot it back into his mouth, allowing it to linger over his tongue before he swallowed it. He placed the glass back on the table and then exhaled, coughing as the whiskey burned the back of his throat. He nodded in approval.

"I can see ye are a man of yer word. Load the rest in, and I'll get ye the money. Ye are a lifesaver, Ian. I dinnae know what this place would dae without ye," the cook said.

"I'm just happy tae help. I really dinnae understand why the Laird hae banned the local distilleries. It's a wonder the people hae nae risen up in rebellion."

"Well, they're tae well-behaved for their own good. Besides, I would nae want tae take on his guards."

"I can understand that," Ian said.

He and Rory carried the crates into the kitchen, and then the cook paid them with a hefty sack of coins. Ian grinned as he felt it.

"I'll never get tired of this," he said, handing it to Rory so that the boy could get a feel for these riches. They collected Pip and headed back to their shop.

"See, lad, it's just honest work for honest pay and naebody hae tae be any the wiser. There's absolutely naething that ye hae tae worry about."

"Until the laird finds out. He must hae banned the distilleries for a reason. I cannae imagine he would be happy with knowing that someone is supplying the village with whiskey."

Ian waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Who knows how he decides anything. I'm sure my wee business is of nae concern tae him. Now, let's get back and we can continue yer training. But ye hae a lot tae learn about life, my boy. As a blacksmith, ye show a lot of promise, but ye are naive. Ye cannae let yer fear get the better of ye," Ian wagged a finger in the air. Rory nodded and sighed.