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“He will be glad of the company of his own kind tonight,” Kin said, patting the animal on the rump.
The furthest stall of the stable was empty save for a great mound of fresh hay, and Murdina pulled down armfuls of it to make a bed of sorts for them both to lie on, their covering being more straw and Kin’s cloak, which was now spread out.
“I trust tis’ all to yer satisfaction,” the landlord said, returning a few moments later with a tray of bread and cheese and two tankards of ale.
“Aye, it will dae well enough, landlord. Tell me, is there a fisherman who might take us across the Mull?” Kin asked, and the landlord thought for a moment.
“Aye, old Longtooth MacGregor–Barnabas is his name, and he is long in the tooth but still as fit as he was in his youth. Find him by the harborside tomorrow and have yer wife part with a few more of yer coins. He will row ye across there if the weather is fine,” the landlord said, and nodding to them, he bid them goodnight.
Murdina was hungry, and she ate her share of the bread and cheese before going to the door of the stable and looking out at the night sky above. The day had been clear, though a slight breeze was in the air and clouds lay far off over the waters, the sounds of the waves lapping at the harbor wall drifting through the night. Kin came to stand next to her, and he put his arm around her and kissed her on the forehead.
“Come to bed, Mrs. Macleod,” he whispered, and she smiled.
“Here I am, escapin’ the possibility of becomin’ anyone’s possession, and yet to dae so I must adopt the one thing I am tryin’ my best to avoid,” she replied, shaking her head, and smiling.
“Tis’ that nae the art of the spy–to adopt whatever persona suits his mission?” he asked, taking her by the hand and leading her back to their bed of straw.
“Then ye are certain ye are a spy?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“I am certain I know nothin’ else of what I am supposed to be. Better a spy for this cause than a traitor to it, and so long as I daenae remember… well, I shall keep myself in this way,” he replied.
Murdina lay down in the straw, pulling an armful of it over her so that she was quite hidden away. Kin came to lie down next to her, and he put his arm around her, spreading his cloak over them both.
“And when we get to Mull, what happens then?” she asked, turning to him, their faces only a few inches apart.
“Then we shall see what we shall see–the symbol on the key, the knot, we must look for it–perhaps then we shall find the answers we seek,” he replied, and yawning, he rolled onto his back and was soon snoring.
Murdina lay awake a while longer, pondering the events of the day in her mind. She wondered what Kin was now dreaming and whether fresh terrors would awaken him in the night. It was awful to think of the fog which clouded his mind, a fog that persisted in its clouding of his memories. They were there–each of them waiting to emerge–but as to when they would, no one, not even Kin, could tell.
