Page 17 of Edge of Yesterday

“You’ve had her food?” Cailean asked, surprised.

He laughed, a genuine laugh, this time. “She forced scones on me during our investigation four years ago. They were the best I’ve ever had.”

Memory hit. Constable Edan Drummond headed the investigation into the disappearance of a Gathering attendee—a reenactor, in fact—four years ago. A scandal ensued when Drummond brought Val Ross in for questioning. In the world of renaissance fairs and medieval reenactors, it was equivalent to the scandal of Prince Charles and Camilla’s tampon-gate. Rumors flew that the police suspected him in the man’s murder. That the authorities never found a body eventually brought a halt to the investigation, but not to the gossip.

An article in the Renaissance Times reported that the authorities had targeted Val Ross in an effort to prove that they were on the job. Over one hundred thousand visitors attended every Gathering. Sadly, crime couldn’t be avoided. Mainstream media painted a different picture. The authorities alleged six disappearances over the course of five Gatherings was too many, and vowed to crack down on the crimes. Drummond had agreed.

“Tonight is the main event, if I recall,” Drummond said, “and ye have a part in the reenactment.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Aye.” Cailean nodded. “You’ve seen the reenactment before?”

“Every year since I was a lad of seven.”

Just like him. And to his surprise, Cailean detected emotion behind the words. The man had some feeling for the Gathering.

Drummond’s eyes shifted past him. “I see someone I know.” His attention swung to Lady Morgana and he smiled. “I hope to see you again, my lady.” He directed a salute to Cailean. “Take care of yourself tonight. People have gotten lost in the shadows beyond the theatre lights.” He spun and strode across the street.

“Strange man,” Cailean said.

“Yes,” Lady Morgana said.

Cailean turned toward her. She looked even more beautiful than she had that morning on the jousting field. Her black velvet and gold baroque damask gown molded perfectly to her trim figure.

“Did he bother you?” Cailean asked.

She laughed without mirth. “It is in his nature to be bothersome.”

“Some constables are like that.”

“Yes,” she agreed, then smiled. “But it is a pleasure to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you, as well,” he said. “I wanted to thank you for coming to my rescue on the jousting field.”

She laughed. “Where are your admirers?”

“With another knight, I pray.”

“Have you come from visiting our swordsmith?” she asked.

“No,” he said, surprised. “I wasnae aware ye had a swordsmith in Heatheredge.”

“A swordsman like yourself didn’t know that we have a renowned swordsmith? I’m surprised.”

“No more than I,” he said. “I make it a point to know all the master swordsmiths.”

“So I thought.” She nodded to something behind him. “I asked only because the lane is just down the High Street. I thought perhaps you came from there.”

Cailean glanced over his shoulder and spotted what looked like little more than an alley. He turned back. “That alley is a street?”

“Not a street really. As you say, an alley. But there are several interesting shops there. One is the swordsmith’s. You might also visit Gillie’s Hardware. He has some items you might like.”

“Such as?” he asked.

Her mouth twitched in amusement. “Go see for yourself.” She glanced at the pub. “Now, I must go.”

“Must you?” he asked. “Can I buy you an ale?”