“I sent word to Brae Aisir almost ten days ago that I am alive,” Fin said.
“My lord, I was at Brae Aisir four days ago. There is no word of yer survival, or that ye are safe in Edinburgh. The Kerrs’ neighbors have been pressing yer wife to take Ewan Hay as her next husband. His brother, Lord Hay, has approved the match. They fear for the stability of the Aisir nam Breug without a man to manage it. They have said quite plainly and out loud that the laird is too old now to be useful. When they said it, I heard he took up a stick and attempted to drive the delegation of his neighbors from the hall. He collapsed and had to be carried away, but he did survive. The Hay would not allow us to camp on the Kerr lands this spring. Whatever help ye might need to drive him out of Brae Aisir, my people and I will be glad to aid ye. But ye must go home, and ye must go quickly lest ye lose all ye have.”
“Is it not enough that the English are raiding us with impunity? Now I must start a feud between the Hays and the Kerrs,” Fingal Stewart said angrily. Then he said to Jock, “Do ye have a stallion for me, man?”
“I do,” the gypsy replied. “But not here. The horse I have for ye, my lord, is too fine for the marketplace. Our encampment is in a field about three miles from the city, north on the Perth road. Come tomorrow morning, and ye’ll see.”
“I’ll be there early,” Fin said.
Jock nodded.
Lord Stewart and Archie returned to Torra House.
“Is there anything to pack?” Fin asked his man.
Archie chuckled. “I’ve already burned what ye were wearing when ye got here,” he said. “Yer wearing what ye own, but for a second shirt. I’ll fold it, and put it in my saddlebag. I take it we’ll purchase yer stallion, and immediately make our way home.”
Lord Stewart nodded grimly. “God’s foot! I’ll need a saddle, and bridle for my horse. We’ll have to go back to the market square, and see if we can find one.”
“We passed a leather maker’s stall near where Jock had his horse,” Archie said.
The two men walked back to the market and found the leather maker.
“I need a saddle and bridle,” Fin told the craftsman.
“I can make ye one, my lord, but ’twill take several weeks,” the man replied.
“I need something immediately,” Fin responded.
“Then ye don’t mind something secondhand?” The leather maker was surprised. This was obviously a gentleman.
“It’s either that or I ride into the Borders bareback and clutching my horse’s mane,” Fin said with a small attempt at humor.
The leather maker chuckled. “Actually, my lord, I have a saddle I made for a gentleman of the old king’s court last year. But he never came back for it, and he paid me but a small deposit.”
“I’ll take it,” Fin said without hesitation.
“Look first, my lord, ’tis a plain thing with no embellishments at all.”
“I’m no courtier. I need nothing more than a plain saddle and bridle,” Fin told the man. “Let me see it.”
The leather maker turned and went into the back of his stall. When he returned, he carried with him a beautifully made leather saddle with matching bridle. “Here it is, my lord,” he said, wiping it off with his apron. “ ’Tis a bit dusty, but fine otherwise.”
Fin ran his hand over the leather. It was very finely tanned, and as smooth as silk.
He looked to Archie. “What do ye think?”
Archie nodded.
“How much?”
The leather maker named his price, but then said, “I’m deducting the deposit, for it was paid, my lord. I imagine the man who ordered it was killed in the wars last year, which is why he didn’t come back.”
Fin nodded. “Aye, that is possible.” He turned to Archie. “Pay him,” he said.
The transaction completed, the two men took the saddle and its equipment to return to Torra House. They made one stop before they departed the market square to purchase a thick square of woven wool that would serve as a saddle blanket. When they reached the house, they found Boyle, the estate agent, waiting for them.
“Ah, my lord, yer looking much better than ye looked several weeks ago when I first saw ye returned,” he said. Seeing the saddle on Archie’s arm he asked, “Will ye be leaving Edinburgh soon?”
