He raised an eyebrow at her. “Impressive, lass. I couldnae have done better myself.
Lily grinned, enormously pleased with herself. “Perhaps I’m not just a pampered twenty-first century woman after all!”
“Aye, perhaps not.” His eyes fixed on her face and again Lily felt that little flutter deep in her belly.
Oskar turned away, pouring the water into several large pans that sat on the iron rack in the fire then went out again, making several trips until the pans were all full.
“I need to go make my report to my commanders and take the horse to a stable. Ye’ll be safe here,” he told her. “I willnae be long.”
Lily nodded, although the thought of being left alone in this strange place made fear tighten her stomach. Oskar slipped out the back door, pulling it firmly closed behind him and Lily sighed, looking around the room.
“Well come on,” she said to herself. “You wanted a bath, didn’t you?”
She waited, checking the water until she judged the temperature to be about right, then emptied the pans into the tub. Finally, she rooted around in the little room until she found a clean cloth and a cake of something she took to be soap, then stripped off her clothes and stepped into the warm bath.
Sinking down into the water, she let out a long, heartfelt sigh. Lily felt her aching muscles begin to unknot and the tension to leave her body. Ah, heaven.
Maybe she could survive in this time after all.
AS HE STEPPED OUT INTOEdinburgh’s streets, Oskar felt that familiar, creeping sense of dread. He didn’t like being back here. There was a reason that his townhouse was rarely occupied. There was a reason he spent as much time as possible out in the wilds, at Dun Saith, on the coast, anywhere but here.
Too many bad memories.
He looked around, marking anyone that might be showing too much interest in him, and when he saw none, pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders and set off uphill, leading the horse. In this weather he was just another indistinct bundle wrapped against the chill so nobody paid him any heed. Good. That was the way he liked it.
The snow was beginning to turn to slush, making the streets of the burgh slippery and treacherous. Oskar plowed on. His destination lay uphill, in the shadow of the castle itself. As he neared the top of the hill, the buildings grew grander. Here, two-story black and white timber-framed buildings with tile roofs, filled the streets. Their lead-paned windows and grand entrances were a stark contrast to the modest, thatched buildings further down the hill.
It was to one of these buildings that Oskar headed. He took the horse around the back to the stable yard, handed him over to a stable hand and strode to the main door of the building. There, he hesitated, checking all around for watching eyes, before knocking.
Embossed into the door was an emblem: a bird of prey with its wings and claws outstretched. Even now, after all these years, the sight of that emblem sent a shot of pride through him. Who would have thought someone like him would ever have cause to knock on this door?
The hatch in the door slid open and Oskar spoke the code word. The hatch closed, the door swung open, and he stepped into the Edinburgh headquarters of the Order of the Osprey. Hefound himself in a wide entrance vestibule with doors leading off on all sides. Wooden paneling covered the walls and freshly swept flagstones covered the floor.
“We heard ye’d arrived,” rumbled a deep voice. A man was walking towards him down the hall, tall and nearly as broad as Magnus, but older. He had graying hair with eyes and beard to match and Oskar had always thought he had the look of a wolf about him.
“Torvik,” Oskar said with a grin. “What are ye doing in these parts? I heard ye never leave yer island these days.”
Torvik MacKinnon, once one of the most formidable warriors in the north, grinned through his beard. “What can I say? I’m getting old and Shetland in winter is for the young. Besides, I could hardly miss Brewer’s trial could I? After all the trouble that bastard has caused us.”
Oskar’s gut twisted. “Aye. Well, ye might have to wait a little longer to see justice.”
Torvik’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. Come, let’s go into my study and ye can give yer report.”
Oskar followed Torvik through one of the doors into a comfortably appointed room. A fire was roaring in the hearth for which Oskar was extremely grateful, and a large desk took up most of the space, littered with papers and scrolls.
“Ye see?” Torvik said with a grimace, indicating the desk. “This is what I’m reduced to. Reading reports and sending missives. My fingers canna even remember the last time they held a sword. Take my advice, Oskar. Dinna get old. It isnae much fun.”
“Oh, I dinna know about that,” Oskar replied. “Looks like it has its up sides as well.” He nodded to the half-finished platter of food on the desk and then to Torvik’s growing paunch.
Torvik laughed and slapped his stomach. “Aye, well mayhap it does at that. Here, get yer gob around this.”
He poured two drams of whisky and handed one to Oskar.
“To the Order of the Osprey and justice,” Torvik said.
“The Order and justice,” Oskar agreed then knocked his drink back in one shot.
“Ah, but that warms the bones doesnae it?” Torvik said, smacking his lips appreciatively. He settled his bulk in one of the chairs by the fire and indicated for Oskar to take the other. “Go ahead then,” he said. “Give me yer report.”
