Chapter 1

1

When Gavin arrived in the village, he was absolutely ravenous. Jerry had given him a bannock and a little ale during their ride, but other than that, he had not eaten since the afternoon of the previous day, and his stomach was rumbling with hunger.

He went into the first tavern he found, and the first thing that hit him was the delicious aroma of meat cooking in the kitchen. It made his mouth water profusely and caused his stomach to growl even more loudly.

There was a plump young woman behind the bar whose brown eyes widened when she saw him. She stepped back, then, keeping her gaze on him, called to someone in the kitchen.

A moment later, a man appeared wiping his hands on his apron. He was silver-haired and elderly, yet still tall and muscular, and Gavin judged him to be an ex-soldier. He took one look at him and his face assumed a fierce, threatening frown.

“What dae ye want?” he asked aggressively. “Put your hood back so I can see your face, or dae he have somethin’ tae hide?”

Gavin hesitated for a moment, but that was long enough for the old man to reach up and pull it down for him. Gavin had been reluctant to do so, not only because he wanted to keep his identity secret, but because his face was filthy, scratched and bruised from the treacherous journey.

“I want a meal and a room for the night!” It was a demand rather than a request, and his tone made the other man’s frown even deeper.

His eyes were dark with fury as he looked Gavin up and down then growled, “Well, ye’re no’ gettin’ either o’ them, ye filthy animal!” He leaned over the counter of the bar. “Get out o’ here before I throw ye out!”

Stung, Gavin pulled out his money bag and held it up. “My silver is as good as anybody else’s!” he cried. “What is wrong with you?”

The old man barked a cynical laugh. “Wrong wi’ me?” he asked in disbelief. “Listen, pal. I am a respectable man, I run a respectable establishment an’ I dinnae want or need the coin o’ some ne’er dae well that looks as though he was dragged through a hedge backward an’ stinks tae high heaven!”

At that moment, Gavin became aware that he did indeed reek of cattle manure. He had obviously stepped in some as he walked towards the village, and now his face flushed with embarrassment and shame. No wonder he was being thrown out!

A minute later he found himself backing out of the door as two hefty young men, presumably the landlord’s sons, advanced towards him threateningly. He turned and left before they could hurt him, and the old man’s voice followed him.

“An’ dinnae come back!” he roared.

There was only one tavern left in the village, and Gavin was beginning to despair. The second one had also turned him away in the same aggressive fashion because he looked and smelled like the worst kind of vagrant imaginable. He was hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, and thought his last hope would be to give a penny to one of the street urchins to go and get some food for him.

That was when he found out the horrific truth about the amount of money he had in his pouch. Instead of the handful of assorted coins he had expected, such as shillings, florins, pennies and farthings, he had only enough money for a pint of ale.

Then Gavin remembered tossing some money at Jerry. He had not looked inside the bag, merely reached in and threw a few coins at the boy, not realising that he had likely given him a few of the more valuable silver ones.

He flopped down with his back to a tree and looked across at the tavern. The Goose and Gander was not a very attractive place, with a peeling painted sign and loose tiles on the roof, but beggars could not be choosers, he thought. He had tried to wash in the burn beside the village, so at least the visible parts of him were clean, but he still stank. He raised his hood over his head again.

Then he saw a bucket that was full of food scraps just by the door of the tavern. He hesitated for a moment and looked around, but there was no one in the street, so he dragged the bucket into an alley between two buildings and plunged his hand into it.

It was full of stale bread crusts, raw meat scraps, morsels of chopped vegetables and the leftovers from the diners’ plates, as well as other bits and pieces that he could not identify. At any other time, he would have considered what he was doing disgusting, but now the horrendous mixture he was eating seemed like a feast, and he devoured it.

Much of it was inedible, however, such as the rancid scraps of rotten meat, and what was edible did no more than blunt the edge of his ferocious hunger. Perhaps a pint of ale would help. A room for the night was going to be much more difficult, but he would worry about that later.

As he was stuffing the last scraps of stale bread into his mouth, he felt a kind of savage, angry humour. Less than a day ago, he had been living in the lap of luxury; he had wanted for nothing.

He had all the food he could eat, a cellar full of fine wines, and a stable full of well-bred horses. He lived in a huge castle with servants at his beck and call, he could throw as many parties as he wished and most of the young ladies in the area were vying for his attention. He was the most eligible bachelor for miles around—or at least he had been.

Now look at me , he thought, scratching in a wooden bucket for food that was only fit for pigs . Gavin was aware of what people thought of him. Lately, he had become the kind of man he hated; arrogant, rude, bad-tempered and impatient, with no consideration for the feelings of others at all. He felt no urge to change, though; it was not his fault that he had become so embittered.

He sighed and shook his head free of negative thoughts; he had to concentrate on his immediate problems.

Perhaps he could bluff his way into getting a room; he could tell them about the fall that had caused the bruise on his face and appeal to their better nature by exaggerating his injuries. After all, he spoke with an upper-class accent and his clothes still looked expensive and well-made, despite the dirt, and no one actually knew he was penniless.

Gavin stepped warily into the tavern with his hood pulled partly over his face. There was a young woman there, sweeping the floor and humming a tune to herself. She had waist- length golden brown hair and a curvy figure that Gavin thought would be the envy of many other ladies. As well as that, she was petite, almost elfin, the kind of woman who usually made him feel strong and protective. Now he just felt miserable and embarrassed.

At that moment she looked up, and Gavin saw that she had wide sky-blue eyes. She had started to smile at him, but as she saw how her expression changed to one of wariness, and she took a step backwards.

After a few seconds, however, she seemed to pull herself together. “Can I help ye?” she asked politely.

Gavin opened his mouth, about to ask for a room, before remembering that he did not have enough money to pay for it. “A cup of ale, please,” he answered. He counted out his coins and realised that he had only sixpence left to his name. He could not even buy a meal and another cup of beer with that.

Gavin watched as the woman fetched a pitcher of ale and a cup for him. From time to time, she peeked up at him, and he saw the kind of appreciative look he was used to receiving. It made him feel a little better.

The young woman handed him his drink and he sipped it gratefully. It tasted like nectar and washed the taste of the leftover food from his mouth, but he realised that he would have to drink it very slowly to make it last. He could not sit in the tavern for a long time with an empty cup, and he did not wish to be thrown out into the bitter cold again before he had found somewhere to stay.

Presently, an overweight, balding middle-aged man entered the room and moved towards the young woman threateningly. He was dirty, unkempt and obviously drunk, and his ugly scarred face wore a furious frown. His gaze swung around to Gavin, and he flung his arm out, pointing at him.

“Did you gie him that beer for nothin’?” he asked angrily. “If ye did, he’s out on his ear! I am havin’ nae beggars here!”

“No, I didnae!” she spat back at him. “He paid for it fair an’ square! An’ he paid for a plate o’ mutton stew an’ a’!”

She looked over at Gavin and gave him a look that said, say nothing.

The man glared at Gavin, then growled and shambled out.

“Thank you,” Gavin said. He knew that the woman had only mentioned the food as a way to distract the older man; he had no hope of actually getting any. By now he felt so weak that he needed to sit down, but his legs were trembling, and he spilled his ale as he did so. He watched helplessly as it dripped off the surface of the table, and saw that he had only an inch left at the bottom of the cup. He swallowed it in one gulp—there was not much point in trying to make such a tiny amount last longer.

Gavin was furious with himself, the monsters who had evicted him from his home, and the lout who had just berated him. What right did they have?

Just then, as if by magic, another cup of ale appeared before him, followed by a fragrant dish of stew and two large bannocks slathered in butter. Gavin looked up into the smiling blue eyes of the young woman whom he had met on the way in.

“I have no money to pay you,” he told her, expecting her to whip the plate away again.

“I know,” she replied, “but I cannae see a hungry man an’ no’ feed him.”

Gavin did not answer, but fell on the food and devoured it with all the ferocity of a wolf on a rabbit. It was sublime, with tender chunks of meat and chopped vegetables in a rich, fragrant brown gravy. The bannocks were still warm from the oven, and the creamy butter dripped into the gravy as he sopped it up with the soft bread, washing it all down with the yeasty beer.

When he had wiped away the last of the gravy with his bread, he sat back, pleasantly full. It had truly been the best meal he had ever tasted, even more so since it had been given with kindness and generosity.

Gavin looked up and saw the young woman coming towards him with another cup of ale. “I warmed it up for ye,” she told him.

“Thank you,” he replied. The words did not come easily to him, since it had been a long time since he had felt or expressed gratitude to anyone. “I was very hungry. I know I should repay you, but I have nothing to give.”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Everything is done.”

“Who do I have to thank?” Gavin asked. When he smiled, it felt as though his face was stretching in an unfamiliar way, as though he had not done it for a while.

“Oh, you mean, what is my name?” she asked. “It’s Maura. Maura Hislop. An’ what is yours?” She looked at him expectantly.

Suddenly, Gavin realised that he had backed himself into a corner. He could not tell Maura his real name, so he left out his surname entirely. “Gavin,” he answered, after a moment’s hesitation.

Just then, there was a commotion at the door as half a dozen, unkempt men tumbled inside, laughing, joking with each other and generally making a lot of very unnecessary noise. They were obviously workers from a nearby farm who had just finished work and had come into the tavern to let off a little steam after a busy day.

Winter was a time for mending broken farm equipment, slaughtering animals then drying and salting the meat for the coming months. It was also when summer fruits and vegetables were bottled and preserved, so most of the work was done inside and out of the harsh winter weather. As well as that, the long hours of darkness lent themselves to cosy nights of drinking, banter and singing, which was why the bar was so busy.

However, a crowd of rough-looking patrons came into the tavern, and he saw Maura looking at them apprehensively, so he retreated to a corner table with his ale. He was sure that she was used to dealing with people like these.

It was much colder being farther away from the fireplace, but it was also much darker, and he hoped that he could stay out of sight long enough to let the men have their fun and leave. He would have to depart eventually too, but he hoped to put it off for a while.

It was not to be, though. One of the men happened to glance in Gavin’s direction and saw him sitting in the half-dark with his hood cast over his head. The man looked at him suspiciously for a moment then alerted his friends.

“Is that no’ the fellow everybody’s talkin’ about?” he asked, pointing at Gavin. “What is he daein’ here? He looks like a bad lot tae me.”

They all turned around to look at him and Gavin’s heart began to race. If these men set about him, he knew he would not be able to defend himself, being hopelessly outnumbered and unarmed. He was utterly helpless, and they knew it.

Fortunately, Maura was not. “An’ who are you tae judge him, Malky MacGowan?” she demanded angrily. “Was it no’ you that got a beatin’ for tryin’ it on wi’ Jimmy Spence’s wife? You just remember that I have dirt on every single one o’ ye. Ye a’ come in here an’ spill your secrets, an’ I know things about ye all that ye wouldnae like your wives an’ families tae know about, so have a care an’ dinnae push me.”

One of the men laughed derisively. “A wee orphan lassie like you shouldnae interfere wi’ the business o’ men. So I would shut up if I was you, hen!”

Maura had a tray in her hand which had several full cups of ale on it. “Is that right, Malky?” she asked, then she grinned and looked down at the laden tray. “Well, I’ve got the ale, so if ye want it, ye had better be nice tae me, or else ye will get nothin’ because I might accidentally spill it a’ over ye.”

The men suddenly became quiet as a muttered discussion ensued between them. Eventually, Malky stood up and gave Maura a sickly smile.

“We are sorry, hen,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “We were only tryin’ tae have a wee joke, but maybe we took it a bit far. We are very sorry.”

Maura put the ale on the table, then held her hand out for payment. When she received it, she turned away without another word, and Gavin noticed that she seemed completely unfazed. It was obvious that she was well acquainted with them and knew how to deal with them.

Her uncle had already flopped down onto his favourite chair, but he was too drunk to intervene, so he merely sat observing them belligerently.

Presently, Malky pointed at Gavin. “Why dae ye no’ get up off your backside an’ dae some work?” he demanded.

“Why dae ye no’ keep your big fat mouth shut?” Maura was standing with her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with fury as she glared at him.

While the two were arguing, Gavin got to his feet and took his chance to escape outside. He was terrified that he would be identified at any moment, but as he walked away from the tavern, he had no idea what to do next. If anyone found out who he was, he was a dead man. Where would he go?