Oskar winced, not knowing where to begin. He wasn’t Kai or Conall to be able to use fancy words or convoluted explanations. He was known for being blunt and to the point. “We’ve lost Alfred Brewer.”
Torvik’s shaggy brows drew down. “I’m getting on a bit so perhaps I’m going deaf but I swear ye just said ye’ve lost Alfred Brewer.”
“It’s true,” Oskar said, gripping his empty cup so hard his knuckles went white. “Or rather, his wife and her associates took him from us.”
He proceeded to report everything that had happened since they’d set out from Dun Saith for Edinburgh all that time ago. He told them of Alfred’s accident, of taking shelter with Henry Eberwyn, of meeting Lily, of traveling towards Edinburgh, and then Alfred’s subsequent rescue by Alice. The only thing he left out was Lily’s time-traveling origins.
Torvik listened with an expression like a thundercloud. “That sniveling little arse!” he snarled when Oskar’s tale had finished. “I would love to get my hands around his scrawny little neck!” He huffed in a breath and then shook his head. “This is dire news. The king will not be pleased. Brewer’s trial is coming up and I know the king himself was to attend. I will go see the king’s justiciars and explain what’s happened. Laird Callum must be told as well. I’ll send word and mobilize what forces we have here in Edinburgh to begin scouring the nearby countryside.”
He leaned forward and clapped Oskar on the shoulder. “Dinna worry. We’ll find Magnus and Emeric and bring the Brewers to justice.”
Oskar nodded, feeling the weight lift from his shoulders just a little. The Order would take over now. It was no longer his responsibility.
“Aye, I know we will,” he said, forcing a smile. He rose to his feet. “I’ll be at my townhouse. Ye’ll send word if ye hear aught?”
Torvik heaved his bulk up. “Of course, lad. If I hear anything ye’ll be the first to know.”
Oskar nodded his thanks, then took his leave of Torvik and left the guild house. Stepping out into the cold air again, he paused for only a moment, before setting off back down the hill. Where were Magnus and Emeric right now? Had they caught up with Alfred and Alice Brewer yet? A coil of unease unwound in his belly. He should be with them. His place was by his sword-brothers’ sides, not sitting here doing nothing whilst they were in danger. If aught should happen to them...
They can take care of themselves,he told himself.They will be here soon, dragging Alice and Alfred with them no doubt. Then as soon as Kai and Conall arrive, we can get on with making sure they face justice.
He felt a sliver of satisfaction at that.
“So it’s true then? The sewer-scumhasreturned!”
Startled out of his thoughts, Oskar looked up to see a burly man blocking the street ahead of him. Four others had filed in behind, cutting off retreat. Damn it. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed them creeping up on him. He was losing his touch.
The burly man stepped closer, tapping a thick cudgel against his leg. He had a shaved head, a bull-neck, and a scar through his lip. Oskar sighed.
“What do ye want, Bryn?”
The man, Bryn Fletcher, spread his arms wide. “Where have ye been, old friend? We’ve missed ye!”
“I doubt that. Kindly step aside and I’ll be on my way.”
“That’s not very friendly, is it? Dinna ye wish to catch up with yer old friends? Ye’ve gone and hurt my feelings now.”
Oskar felt his temper rise. He didn’t have time for this. “We were never friends, Bryn. Now move, before this gets ugly.”
Bryn grinned, showing a row of crooked teeth. Behind him, his men chuckled. “Ah, there it is! The true Oskar Galbraith! Once a villain, always a villain, eh? Ye might like to lord it over the rest of us now ye’ve got friends in high places, but ye are still the black-hearted bastard ye have always been.”
Oskar clenched his fists, feeling the blood rushing to his face. He had worked hard to leave his past behind, to distance himself from the darkness he had once embraced. But standing here, confronted by Bryn and his gang, it was as if time had folded in on itself, reminding him of the man he used to be.
He couldn’t afford to waste any more time on meaningless brawls. He had a responsibility—a duty to protect Lily. But the streets of Edinburgh were unforgiving, and he was outnumbered.
“Bryn,” Oskar said, trying to keep his tone level. “I dinna want any trouble. Let me pass.”
Bryn’s laughter echoed through the narrow street. “What’s the matter? Dinna like being reminded of what ye really are?”
Bryn was baiting him. He was trying to provoke him into anger, into striking first, to give these thugs the excuse to do what they’d come here to do. But Oskar wasn’t that man anymore. He would not let them drag him back there.
“Good day to ye,” he murmured. He shoved past Bryn and continued walking down the street.
“Eager to get back to yer lady, eh?” Bryn called.
Oskar stopped. He slewed around. “What did ye say?”
Bryn grinned. “A pretty thing, from what I hear. I wonder if she’d still look so pretty after a night with me and my lads.” The other men laughed, their crude chuckles bouncing off the gritty walls around them.
