Page 4 of The Shadow of a Laird
“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 longhours 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 mightaccidentallyspill 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?
