Page 17 of Laird of Smoke
“That’s shite,” the black-beard muttered.
She shook her head.“’Tis one thing to steal aman’ssilver.’Tis quite another to abscond with wealth intended for the Holy Church.”
The thin one gasped.
“Don’t listen to her,” the black-beard ordered.
“But what if she’s—”
“Silver is silver,” he groused.“It all spends the same.Besides, what use do ye think God has for coin?”
Eve had to admit he had a point.According to Scripture, money was the root of all evil.
“The Prior will do God’s work,” she explained, “and deliver alms to the poor.”
“Or stash it in his own coffers,” the black-beard spat.
“And piss on the poor,” the thin one added.
Eve could see these men had had bad experiences with the clergy.And sadly, she knew their cynicism wasn’t unfounded.There were indeed corrupt and greedy men in the church, like the one she’d shot in effigy.Still, she wondered if she might restore the thieves’ hope and change their path.
“There are some wayward priests, to be sure,” she admitted.“But Prior Isaac is decent enough.If ye abandon your sinful ways and come with me to Scone, I’ll introduce ye to the prior.I’m sure ye’ll find salva—”
Where the third man came from, Eve couldn’t guess.Suddenly a figure sprang out of the trees and bowled over the black-bearded thief.Then, with startling efficiency, he tore the dagger from the man’s hand and threw it, embedding it in the trunk of a pine several yards down the road.
Stunned, the black-beard struggled to his feet.With a whimpered curse, he limped along the path to try to retrieve his dagger, abandoning his partner without a backward glance.
The thin man’s eyes widened.His hand faltered on his weapon as the third man drew closer.Finally, he let out a fearful squeak, dropped the dagger, and lit out after his friend.
As Eve watched them escape, a bolt of disappointment streaked through her.She felt she’d been making progress with the two thieves.Offered them redemption.Given them a wee glimpse of hope.In another moment, she might have convinced them to come along to the priory.If they had, she might have been able to change their lives.Helped them to mend their wicked ways.
Now they were back on the road to ruin.Worse, this new outlaw didn’t appear to believe in redemption.
“Haven’t ye read the Scripture,” he purred in a Highland brogue, “a leopard cannot change its spots?”
“Jeremiah,” she replied out of habit.
She narrowed her eyes at him.It was too dark to see beneath the floppy cap he wore.But she could feel his mild derision.This thief she’d never persuade with promises of salvation.She’d have to use another tactic.
He bent down to scoop up the discarded dagger.
She had to think fast before he decided to use it.
“Here,” she said, lifting her hands to her hair.“Take my pearls.They’ll be easier for ye to sell.”
She figured he’d do one of three things.
Settle for the pearls and be on his way.
Refuse the pearls and demand the silver.
Or take the pearlsanddemand the silver.
Instead, using the point of the dagger, he tipped up the front of his cap to study her, revealing a pair of all-too-familiar glittering and puzzled eyes.“God’s blood, m’lady.Who the devilareye?”
Chapter 4
Adam hadn’t meant to reveal himself.And he hadn’t meant to blurt the question out like that.He usually had a more conversational manner.A smoother tongue.He could tease information out of people without asking direct questions.
