Page 41 of No Place in Time

Men talked freely here about the war, about levies, and about how the king’s officers had been through the nearby villages again, taking men who could hold a sword or swing a hammer. One man said it was only a matter of time before they came back. The war with Scotland showed no sign of ending. Another laughed and said, “strong backs never stay unclaimed fer long.”

Their talk left Finn uneasy. It wasn’t far from these docks that soldiers had taken him before. He remembered their rough hands, the rope biting his wrists, and Cecily standing frozen with her hand pressed flat against her mouth as they dragged him away.

He kept his head down and said nothing.

Soon the talk shifted to crops, prices, who had come into town lately and who had not—and women.

“Stephen de Malet’s house has been lively of late,” one man said, wiping his hands on his tunic. “More visitors than usual.”

Finn’s head came up.

“Aye,” another replied. “He’s showing off that kinswoman of his.”

“The fair-haired one,” another man said. “Blue-eyed. Well formed. I saw her at market last month. She’s growed into herself.”

Finn’s grip on the timber he was carrying slipped, then steadied.

“Growed enough to draw interest.”

“Aye, she’s drawn my interest,” one man said, and they all laughed.

Finn straightened slowly. The men continued talking, unaware of him, their voices blending with the ring of iron and the creak of wood. He heard only fragments now. Fair-haired. De Malet. Good breeding.

She was alive. She had gone home.

Finn set the timber down, his hands trembling so badly he hid them at his sides. He walked away from the group, his face burning as their laughter followed him. He stood by the river, breathing hard, the realization a sharp, painful blow: It must be her. She had returned to Malethurst Hall, her family estate, and taken her place again.

Finn’s face reddened as the men continued their remarks. He set the timber down and walked away.

When the day’s work ended, Finn accepted his pay and left for the cave in the woods. He walked south until the land rose and the river fell behind him. From there, he could have followed the road straight to Malethurst Hall. He knew the way.

Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow he would find her.

∞∞∞

The next day, Finn went back to the docks at first light. A few more hours’ work would mean food on the road and enough coin to reach Malethurst Hall, and Cecily.

He took the same place among the workers as he had the day before, silently lifting and carrying timber until the hull of the vessel settled more firmly into the river.

His thoughts were on the road to Malethurst, on Cecily’s face when she saw him. What would he even say? For him, it had been less than a fortnight. For her, he’d been gone more than a year. How could he possibly explain that?

He worked steadily, measuring time by the growing ache in his arms. He did not notice the soldier at first. The man stood apart from the dockworkers, half in shadow near the carts. His gaze lingered on the men working around the ship. A prickle crept up the back of Finn’s neck. He shifted the timber on his shoulder and turned slightly.

The soldier was watching him, his eyes fixed on Finn.

Finn looked away at once and kept working, forcing his movements to remain even. Soldiers passed through the docks often enough. Men were always being looked over.

But Finn had seen that face before.

When the morning’s work ended, Finn collected his pay and turned south without hesitation. He did not take the main road, cutting instead across the edge of the fields where the grass was still wet. He heard footsteps behind him and lengthened his stride.

“Hold there.”

Finn stopped. He did not turn at once. He waited, breathing evenly, until the soldier’s boots crunched closer. Only then did he face him.

The soldier was older than Finn remembered, or perhaps he’d just grown harder. He wore a leather cap, and his eyes were sharp with recognition.

“I know ye,” the soldier said. “Took ye seasons ago, didn’t we? Near the river. Ye slipped yer leash, if I recall.”