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Chapter Twenty
Fin
Fin slung his bag over the saddle of his horse and cinched it down tight. The day was overcast, and a chill wind swept across the bailey as he prepared to leave. All around him, Fin was met with suspicious and outright hostile glares from the workmen and the soldiers in the bailey. Apparently, the Scottish were either not a very common sight, or they were not welcome in Elix.
I’d lay a bet on the latter.
Fin was just about to swing up into the saddle, anxious to get to Therline. Ivy had agreed to leave an hour or two after him to hopefully stave off suspicion. She told him she worried that Castor was watching her, concerned that she had grown too close with him while they had been at York. Fin did not tell her he thought it a reasonable concern, given their different stations.
Over the years, he had learned that the English were not like the Scots… they were obsessed with social rank and position. He supposed the Scottish nobility was probably the same way, but where he had come from, rank and social station did not matter when it came to matters of the heart. In the village he grew up in, people married for love and for no other reason.
He began to wonder if that would change at Westmarch Hall if Col would keep up the traditions of their people, or bow to the English conventions of marriage. But then, he knew that Gillian was not a traditional Englishwoman. She had risked everything, including being exiled from her own family to marry for love. She had sacrificed her social standing to marry Col, and Fin was suddenly sure he would maintain the traditions of their people.
“Master Begbie, a moment?”
He turned away from his horse to see Castor approaching him. The Baron stopped a couple of feet away from him, his personal guard loomed a few feet behind them, hands hovering near the hilt of their swords. They looked jumpy. Twitchy. They stared at him as if he were a snake, coiled, and ready to strike. Chuckling to himself, he held his arms out wide and turned in a circle to show he was not carrying a blade.
Castor rolled his eyes and turned to his guards, giving them a gesture to move away. Their expressions hardened, but they did as their master commanded and took a few more steps back, though they remained close enough to render aid to their Lord if necessary. It made Fin chuckle to himself.
“What can I dae for ye, Baron Welton?”
“I just wanted to wish you well,” he said.
“Oh, well, I thank ye again for yer hospitality.”
Castor shifted on his feet and clenched his jaw for a moment, and Fin knew there was something more he wanted to say. The Baron did not come out to simply bid him farewell. He very clearly had something on his mind.
“Of course, of course,” Castor said. “But may I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“The assassin… has he said anything?
Fin eyed him closely. Though Castor was tightly controlled and gave nothing away in his expression, Fin could see something in his eyes -- he was worried about what the assassin might have said to him.
Tis a fair enough worry for a guilty man.
But Fin knew he needed to be careful with what he told Castor. He was obviously a very dangerous man who handled his enemies roughly. Not that Fin feared him, but he did not particularly relish the idea of catching a blade in the back on some dark night.
“Nay. Nae yet. Been quieter than a church mouse,” Fin replied. “But when I get back tae York, I plan on havin’ a long talk with the lad. I ken he’s got some interestin’ things tae say.”
While he did not breathe an outward sigh of relief, it was close to it. Fin could see it in his eyes. But he managed to keep himself composed and gave Fin a small smile, and although he was tempted to tell Castor his theory about the assassin working for somebody else - for him - he bit his words back. He knew he needed to be discrete to not alert him.
“Well, I do hope you are more successful in getting him to talk next time you speak to him,” he said. “It would be nice to know if he had any confederates.”
Fin nodded, never taking his eyes off Castor. “Aye. And I plan on findin’ out.”
Castor seemed to swallow hard but kept a pleasant smile on his face. “Well then, I wish you a pleasant and safe journey back to York,” he said. “And please, keep me apprised of any developments.”
“Aye,” Fin said. “Ye’ll be the first tae ken.”
“Well, this place is not without its charm,” she said.
Fin chuckled and looked around. There were a couple of homes in Therline that had been spared from the torch, and he used the time he’d been waiting to clean one of them up, just to give them a place to sit. It was the midway point between the two English lands, with a few hours ride one way or the other taking you to either York or Elix.
“Aye. There’s somethin’ tae be said for spendin’ a little time in thae ruins of a village,” he said with a grin. “Tis nae thae grand halls ye’re used tae, but it’ll dae for now.”
A wry smile touched Ivy’s lips. “I am not the sort of girl who always needs to sit in a grand hall,” she said. “Just so you know.”
