“Soon, lad. Ye will ken it once ye become a man. A power will come over ye, and ye will dae somethin’ ye never thought possible before then. Ye will ken when it comes.”
Blair frowned.What does he mean by this?What would come over him? How could he possibly do something he never thought possible? Yet, he smiled and played his card pointedly, knowing his victory was just around the corner. However, his father seemed so distracted that evening, as he had many evenings in the past few months, that he didn’t notice his son’s move.
Every so often, he caught his father looking to the doorway, albeit the late hour.
“Are ye waitin’ for someone, Da?” Blair finally asked once they finished the game, and James hardly seemed to notice that he’d lost.
He stood to his feet with a slight groan. “Nay, nay. Just tired, lad.”
His father was not old, yet he’d seemed to age in the past few months. New lines had formed at the corner of his brown eyes, and a little gray had sprouted in his blond hair.
“I am for bed. I should nae have kept ye up so late, son, for ye’ll be helpin’ me in the morn.”
“Right, Da,” Blair put the cards away as James stoked the fire.
Just then, the night's heavy silence was broken by a loud bang on the door. Blair, his gut twisting with fear,turned to face his father, who had grown pale and stared blankly at the wood.
“Hide, son, go,” he whispered, pointing to the broken wardrobe where they kept their clothing. “In there. I will deal with this. Just dinnae come out, whatever happens!”
Blair was stunned; he’d never seen his father like this, so…afraid.He obeyed without hesitation, but after being locked within the wardrobe, he also became angry. Finley, the Highlands' most ruthless creditor,the man without a face, had sent hismen afterhis father. He was certainit was them. Blairhad sensed his father desperation, but why take money from such a brute?
He trembled as he heard the group burst into the house once his father opened the door, and he leaned forward to look through the small crack in the wardrobe.
“MacDougall,” a man said, smiling at his father with his blackened teeth. “It seems that ye are a man who cannae pay his debts. It’s a pity, aye?”
Blair trembled in terror at the sound of thisvoice soundinglike a snake slithering. The black-toothed man, undoubtedly the leader, stepped forward as his father started to move backward. Four more people crammed into the cabin with them, making it appear even smaller than before. They were all bearded, had chilly eyes, and greasy hair.
“The business is bad of late, lads. Surely yer boss understands such a thing,” Blair’s father said, his voice trembling. “I can give ye almost all, but I need more time for the last few coins.”
“Well, speakin’ of which,” the leader said, pulling out a dirk and running a finger along its edge, “we will double the debt because it is a few days late.”
“Nay! Dinnae dae that!” James cried, only to have all five gazes snap to him, and the black-toothed man reared back and hit his fist into Blair’s father’s jaw, sending him to the ground.
The man spat in his face and said, “We can dae whatever we like. I am nae the one who asked for a loan of money. We are given orders, and we are given the freedom tae handle them as we please. Are we nae, lads?”
“Aye,” they said in unison, chuckling a little as Blair’s father tried to stand up again.
“I just need a little more time if ye want the debt tae be doubled. But I swear tae ye, ye will get all that ye need.”
The man nodded, showing his black teeth once more and still caressing his knife. “I dinnae believe in the promises of men such as yerself, MacDougall. A man who has nae paid his debts in some time is nae a man tae be trusted.”
Blair watched as the man walked around his father, stroking the knife along James’ arm while the others watched, their hands crossed and wicked grins on their faces.
They enjoy this.
Blair could hear himself breathing so loud that he put a hand over his mouth to quiet it, clutching the dirk at his side with his other arm.
“Aye, but it will be different now. There are plans—” his father began, but the men just laughed.
“Is it nae the same with all the men, lads? They are always beggin’ for mercy when it was Finley who gave them mercy in the first place and money when they most needed it.” The man stood behind James, gripping his shoulders as he spoke. “Ye have a son, dae ye nae, MacDougall? Children are useful, especially sons. They could pay off debts, work hard, and be of use while their fathers die as useless pigs.” He kicked the back of his father’s legs until his knees bent, and he knelt on the ground.
Blair sucked in a breath. His heart resounded like titanic footsteps in his ears, but he could not tear his eyes away. Frozen to the spot, he felt as though time slowed, marching on only bit by bit, like the beating of a slow drum towards doom. Doom. The air stunk with it.
“Nay, please. Me son has nothin’ tae dae with me debts. I will handle them meself.”
“I think the time for that has passed,” the black-toothed man said from above him. “What dae ye think, lads?”
“Aye, true enough, Sean. Ye handle him.” Another man nodded, and Sean, the leader, chuckled.
