Highland Steel by Tanya Anne Crosby

Author:Tanya Anne Crosby
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Medieval
Published: 2014-10-17T07:00:00+00:00

Two bodies pose a problem.

Maddog had performed his duties for MacLaren all too well, and for his efforts he’d earned merely a warm bed and the distrust of his kinsmen. Now he didn’t even have the bed, because the Butcher had ousted him from it, leaving him to seek another like a common dolt. Unfortunately, he hadn’t even the opportunity to empty the laird’s chamber of a few special items he wished to keep. Now he had no money, no valuables and after nearly twenty-three years of service he was forced to take a pallet in the hall, along with the rest of the dirty buggers in this keep.

At least he had the sword.

He didn’t precisely ken why the ancient blade was so valuable. The metal was chipped in spots, and barely sharp enough to split his seams, but deep down he understood it must be precious. Afric had realized it as well and the blacksmith had been prepared to keep it for himself—that is, until his son went missing along with his precious sword, and then Maddog was fairly certain Afric intended to tell the new laird. He couldn’t allow it.

Pondering what to do with the blade, he tucked it away carefully, so that no one could spy its gleam, and then in the shadows of the storehouse, he hid the oiled cloth with some trepidation next to the oversized sack of meal that held the blacksmith’s son. The blacksmith himself… well, he went down the well. “An unfortunate accident,” most would say once they chanced to find the man’s body. To deflect suspicion Maddog had already spread the word that he’d last spied the blacksmith’s boy climbing down the well shaft, as the he was ever wont to do. And of course, Baird wasn’t there, but the blacksmith couldn’t have known that, and who was to say the lump on Afric’s head wasn’t made by the fall?

The comical sound Afric made on his way down the well still filled his ears and made him laugh. He sniggered to himself, holding the force of it in until he blew a snot wad onto his arm, and then frowned.

If the gods be good, it would be some time before anyone found the blacksmith’s body. The last anyone spied the man was in the hall, so just to be certain, he’d made certain people saw him go his own way after quitting the hall, but not before filling Afric’s head with worry o’er the boy and the well. And then, whilst everyone was pre-occupied with the goings-on at the hall, he’d come around behind while Afric stood peering down the shaft. And that was that. Afric would trouble him no more.

The well was nearly worthless anyhow. The water it yielded needed to be strained and then boiled or it was good for naught. Even their ale was slush. ’Twas a good thing they’d built it in a blind spot behind the church, for even now a full hour had gone by and no one had yet sounded any alarm.

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