The Witch and The Thief

16

Olly grumbled under his breath, then nodded and called out to a thin, frazzled young woman with carrot-orange hair behind the counter. "Poppy, see that there be victuals brought for our new guests in suite two."

"Have Odhran or Oliver do it, why don't ye? I've got my hands full."

Olly thumped the counter hard enough to draw the attention of several men at the back and gave his daughter a hard look.

Poppy sighed and tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear. "Aye, Pa, as soon as I finish with that lot back there," she grumbled, pointing behind her to the rowdy cluster of men Lachlan first noticed upon their arrival.

She hoisted a tray heavily laden with tankards of ale and platters of food onto her left shoulder, then hurried through the maze of tables in her path to the crowd. Several men cheered and parted to allow her in among their ranks before swallowing the gap.

"Well, then," Olly said, gaining Lachlan's attention, "in case ye be forgetting, yer room be up the stairs, first door on your left. I'll send Poppy momentarily with yer food."

He held out his hand and waited until Lachlan slipped five Elvish copper in his waiting palm. Olly grinned, revealing a wide gap between his two front teeth. "Pleasure doing business with ye."

Lachlan clenched his jaw and turned on his heel, settling his hand once more at the small of Maera's back. "Have you seen anyone who might recognize you?"

"Aye," Maera murmured, with a nervous glance his way, "two trouble makers, but they seem to be distracted by whatever is going on back there."

They reached the staircase just as the door swung open, and a filthy Hamish McBride entered.

Without thinking, Lachlan pulled the shadows more tightly around him and Maera until he was positive that they were well-hidden from view and settled his palm upon his sword hilt as he took a protective stance.

Maera stared at the man in terror as visions of the night he'd tried killing her flashed before her eyes. Her breath lodged in her throat, her palms grew slick with sweat, and her heart pounded furiously within her chest. "He's found us!" Her mind screamed.

A thick, foul-smelling cloud of sweat, bog water, and animal dung hung about Hamish as he marched past Lachlan and Maera. A few steps away, he slowed and glanced back at them, lifting his nose as though catching a familiar scent upon the air. His brow lowered in a heavy frown, and he turned to face them.

Lachlan resisted the urge to thicken the shadows surrounding them further, knowing t'would only call unwanted attention.

"HAMISH," a tall, thin man with an eerie resemblance to a half-starved wolf called from the crowd. His words were beginning to slur when he continued, "Hurry, man! Bout time ye arrived. We was beginning to wonder if ye'd show."

Hamish's frown intensified as he stepped closer to the stairs and said distractedly, "I had a matter what needed settling at home."

"Be ye joining us or not?" A pudgy-faced man said with a cheerful smile as he walked to Hamish and threw an arm around his shoulders. He belched in Hamish's face, apologized with a grin, then continued, "Fugal nearly sliced two of his fingers off and Rory's up next. Thus far, Robbie's the only one to lop off a thumb. All the men be eager to see how ye fair."

Hamish grunted, then turned and joined the others at the table with one last backward glance to the shadowed stairs.

Once Hamish was out of sight, Lachlan slowly let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and prodded Maera to hurry up the stairs to their room. The instant the door shut, he threw the bolt and muttered an expletive under his breath. Why did they have to run into the very devil they'd run away from in the first place? T'was proof the fates surely had a wicked sense of humor.