Page 13 of The Burden of a Scottish Chieftain
Moving down the path, she stayed to the edge, as far away from groping hands as possible. Nearly to the kirk, she passed the last stand, but then stopped, noticing that the vendor appeared to be selling maps.
Their mother had taught Tamsin and Meg how to read, something Meg loved, but she’d died before the two girls had become experts at it. Forming words and writing had been difficult, but her father had once shown them how to read a map.
Stepping over to the vendor, she said, “Do you have a map that could show me how to get to Ulva?”
The man chuckled and said, “Ulva? You have a way to go, lass.” He opened the map and said, “Here we are in the land of the Scots, not far from the Highlands.”
She peered over his shoulder, picking out the wide mass of land, then a strip of something with upside-downVs on it. “What is that?”
“Water. That’s the Firth of Lorn and the Sound of Mull. This is how you’ll have to do this. You’ll have to go to Oban, hire a spot on the ferry to Craignure, then somehow get yourself to the other side of the Isle of Mull.” He paused to show her exactly where he meant, waiting to see if she understood.
She did. And it frightened her.
“Do you have coin for the ferry?”
“I do.”
“Why are you going to Ulva, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I wish to visit my sister. She lives on Ulva.”
“Then you need to take the ferry to Craignure. I would advise you to go to Clan MacVey or to Duart Castle once on the Isle of Mull and ask for an escort to the ferry that will take you to Ulva. You’ll need to get a horse.”
“But I have one. I hid her in the trees over there.”
“Aye, but you probably will not have enough to pay for your horse on the ship.” He told her the amount, and she scowled because he was correct. She could pay for herself, but not her sweet mare. What would she do with her?
“When you find your escort, they’ll take you to the other side of the isle for the ferry. But you’ll have to go around Ben More.”
“Ben More?”
“The mountain. That’s why I would go to Clan MacVey. They are a good clan, and they’ll help you.”
“How long to get to Oban from here?”
“Half a day, lass. Go to the kirk. It is too late for you to be out alone. Go quickly before it’s dark. There are too many unsavory characters waiting for young lasses to get lost.”
“Many thanks to you,” she said, moving through the crowd to grab her mare and head in the direction of the street that held the kirk. Along the way, one man tried to grab her horse, so she pulled out her axe and held it over her head, ready to bring it down on his hand. “My horse, you thief.”
The man ran away.
That was enough of an experience to set her heart to racing, so she hurried out of the crowd to find a spot where she could mount the animal, then galloped toward the kirk, reaching it a quarter of an hour later. Grateful to see a stable in the back, she led her horse around, willing to sleep inside on a mound of hay just to stay out of the rain. Drizzle started right as she stepped inside.
A man with kind eyes came over and asked, “May I be of assistance, lass?”
“Will they allow me to stay one night?”
He looked at her trews and then brought his eyes back up to hers. “They will if you are willing to help in the kitchens. One eve’s work for one night’s stay.”
“I consider that fair. Will you take good care of my horse?”
“Aye. If you work, I’ll feed her. If not, I’ll put her in the meadow behind here in the morn.”
“Fair enough.” Meg stepped away, nearly ready to fall over from exhaustion and the intensity of her pounding heart.
“Use that back door and ask for the cook. Her name is Mabel.”
“My thanks to ye.” After kissing her horse on its head, she headed into the back of the large kirk. It was much bigger than the one she’d attended with her mother.
