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CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
There was no sign of anyone else around the standing stones, no foe waiting to confront them, only the man, who without his hood, seemed somehow far less intimidating. Murdina had no doubt she could easily have felled him in battle, though there was no sign of a sword at his belt. If anything, the man had seemed surprised at Kin’s lack of memory and, it seemed, had been waiting for him all along.
“He did nae believe I was yer wife,” she whispered, smiling, despite the seriousness of the situation.
“Perhaps I am already married,” Kin replied, and Murdina laughed.
“Yer wife wouldnae be happy, then,” she said.
The cloaked man–his hood still down–led them across the heathers towards a rocky outcrop, silhouetted against the sky. The rain had stopped, and the wind died down, the clouds parting so that the moonlight shone across the moorland, lighting their way. Murdina no longer felt that same sense of trepidation as she had before. Curious, instead, to learn what the man was about to reveal.
“In here,” the man said, pointing towards the opening of a cave hewn into the rock.
Murdina glanced at Kin, who now led the way inside, the cave opening up into what could almost be described as a room furnished with a bed, a table, and a large chest. A lamp hung on the far wall, casting flickering shadows across the sandy floor, and the man now removed his cloak and beckoned them to sit on the bed.
“Your name, sir,” Kin demanded, and the man nodded and smiled.
His face was weather-beaten, wrinkled, and he had a scar running the length of his cheek. He looked at Kin and shook his head.
“Dae ye really remember nothin’ at all?” he asked, and Kin shook his head.
“I cannot remember anything, save for moments of clarity here and there. I know my name; I remember a fire and the shipwreck itself. I know I have a key and a coin in my possession, and I had a letter that linked me to the MacGlens. I believe I am a Jacobite. But that is all I know, save for what has transpired since my capture by Murdina’s father–I remember everything clearly from that point,” Kin replied.
The man looked at him with a ponderous expression on his face.
“Aye, very well. I must believe ye speak the truth. But I daenae trust this woman,” he said, turning to Murdina, who scowled at him.
“There are two possibilities, sir. Either ye are friend or foe. If friend, we may trust one another, and I shall run ye through with my sword if foe. But ye will tell us who ye are, and what yer cause is, or I shall count ye as foe, mark my words,” she said, and the man smiled.
“Ye are a feisty one, Murdina McFadden, and certainly yer father’s daughter–I was only testin’ ye but tellin’ ye I could nae trust ye. My name is Gilroy, Gilroy MacFlinn, and ye may be assured I am a friend. What ye believe about yerself is true, Kin. Ye are of our cause, the Jacobite cause, and yers is a noble mission. I am only sorry it has ended in such a way that ye cannae remember,” he said, shaking his head sadly.
Murdina glanced at Kin, and his face showed signs of recognition, as though the name of Gilroy MacFlinn had brought with it memories of the past.
“I do remember,” he said, turning to Murdina, who smiled.
“What dae ye remember?” she asked, and Kin pondered for a moment.
“The name of MacFlinn–I have been to this cave before. The chest there, it is… familiar to me. But many years ago, before… before I was sent to England,” he exclaimed, a look of triumph coming over his face.
“Aye, tis’ true–ye have been here before, but many years ago, and the chest has stood here these long years past, and I have watched over it. Ye were sent to England with a particular mission to infiltrate the highest levels of society and bear out a task that would have dire consequences for us all. Some months ago, we received word that ye would be returnin’ north with word of yer success, and so we have watched and waited ever since,” he replied.
“But what mission? I am a spy, but to what end?” Kin demanded, and Gilroy smiled and pointed at the chest.
“I believe yer answer will lie in there. Ye have the means to reveal it,” and Kin’s eyes grew wide.
“The key?” he asked, and Gilroy nodded.
“But wait, there is much ye must know beforehand. I can explain it, but it will be difficult for ye to hear if these are nay memories ye recall. That is why I was so surprised ye did nae recognize me. I thought ye would, I thought ye would remember why ye have come back here,” he said, but Kin shook his head.
“I remember only the smallest details, and there are things I think I know, but I cannot be certain of it. As a captive at the castle of Murdina’s father, I accused a man of treachery, but I could not be certain why I did so,” he said, and Gilroy nodded.
“Then perhaps that is the best place to start,” he said, offering them both a drink of whisky from a hip flask he produced from beneath his cloak.
Both Murdina and Kin refused–despite what the man had told them, neither of them yet trusted him.
“Why this place? Why Mull?” Murdina asked, curious as to why they should have been led there.
“Mull has long been a place of refuge–the standing stones are all that remains of an ancient people who fled here from the mainland many thousands of years ago. Tis’ a place where things can be hidden–people and secrets. Ye, Kin, are part of an order of spies, loyal to the Jacobite cause, and for whom this symbol is our token,” Gilroy said, and he raised his hand, revealing a ring on the index finger on which was engraved the symbol of the knot.
