Adali led them from the Great Hall and out into the courtyard again.
“Where are my men?” Piers St.Denis inquired nervously.
“They have been housed in a barracks and are being fed,” Adali told him cordially, as they passed beneath the castle’s iron portcullis and out across the drawbridge, off the main track and into the woods, picking out a barely discernible track to follow.
“Why are we going this way?” St.Denis queried Adali.
Adali stopped. “This is the way to Will Todd’s cottage, my lord. He lives near a mountain stream, and will probably be fishing when we get there. There is nothing to be fearful of, my lord.”
“I am notfearful,I was just curious,” the marquis snapped.
Adali smiled to himself and continued onward. Actually, there was an easier path to Will’s cottage, but he chose the more roundabout way in order to confuse the two men with him. It was a rocky path that led up a hill, and down again, through sharp brambles, and thick gorse bushes. He could hear the men behind him cursing as their clothing caught on the briars, but he moved with such fluidity that neither his white pants nor his white coat was shredded or torn. Finally, they could hear the water of a stream ahead of them as it tumbled over the rocks in its bed, but it was not Will’s water, Adali told them, leaping from stone to stone as he quickly crossed it. Again he could hear cursing behind him as his companions unsuccessfully followed him, splashing their way through the stream. He chuckled softly to himself.
At last they exited the wood and crossed over a meadow filled with shaggy, big-horned cattle. “Mind your feet,” Adali warned them as he tiptoed through the clumps of cow manure, almost laughing aloud at the marquis of Hartsfield’s yelp of dismay.
“How much farther is it?” Kipp called to him.
“We’re almost there,” Adali replied calmly.
And then they saw the cottage on the far side of the meadow, heard the swiftly flowing water beside it. As they approached it they could see a figure, almost hip-deep in the stream, fishing rod in hand.
“Hello, the house!” Adali called loudly. “‘Tis Adali, Will Todd, and I’ve brought visitors.”
The figure turned slowly, openly annoyed to be disturbed at his pastime. Then, reluctantly, he moved nearer the bank, but did not come from the water or cease his activity. “What ‘tis it ye seek?” he asked, his local accent thick to the ears of the two Englishmen.
“Good morrow, Will Todd,” Adali said cheerfully. “These two gentlemen are seeking his lordship. I would not know where to tell them to look, but I am certain you can help them.”
“Here,” Will Todd moved nearer the bank, and thrust his fishing pole at Adali. “Dinna drop it, mon! I canna chatter wi it in hand.” He pierced the two strangers with a sharp glance. “So yer seeking his lordship, eh? Weel, I canna rightly say where he maught be, but hae ye sought at Sithean for him? He maught be there. Or he and his lassie could hae gone to Hay Hoos or Greyhaven. Or mayhap he’s at Briarmere Moor or Leslie Brae. Hae ye looked in any of these places, sir?”
“What is he saying?” St.Denis demanded tightly. He could hardly make out a word the old man was uttering.
“I thought he was quite clear,” Adali replied, “but then I’ve been listening to these people for several months now, and I do have a rather good ear for accents.”
“Yes! Yes!” St.Denis almost shouted, “But what the hell did he say? It sounded like gibberish to me.”
“Will Todd said that the earl of Glenkirk and his wife might be over at Sithean visiting the earl of Sithean, who is Lord Leslie’s uncle. Or he could be at Hay House or Leslie Brae, visiting with his uncles, or he might be at Greyhaven or Briarmere Moor, with his brothers.”
“Or the Gordons,” Will Todd spoke up again. “He maught be wi the Gordons, fer our Morag is wed wi a Gordon.”
“He could also be visiting with the Gordons, his late wife’s family. Their youngest son is wed to the earl’s youngest sister,” Adali translated quickly.
“Or the games,” Will Todd added. “He maught hae gone to the games, but then there be several this summer. Two, or three, I dinna remember.” He took his fishing rod back from Adali and stepped back out into the swiftly flowing stream. “‘Tis all I can tell ye,” he said with a firm air of finality.
“Games?”The marquis of Hartsfield was puzzled.
“Because the winters are so long and so harsh,” Adali explained, “the Scots like to hold games of athletic prowess in the summer months. It allows the clans to gather together, the men to exhibit their skill at things like tossing the caber, it’s a log, my lord; or throwing big round stones a distance. The women come to gossip. They dance, and there are bards and the pipes. Will is right, however. There are several sets of games this summer, and the earl could have gone to any of them, for he is related to many people through his Stuart connections.”
“How barbaric,” St.Denis sneered.
“Let us return to Edinburgh,” Kipp said. “Seeking out Glenkirk here will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.If you send for him in the king’s name, he must come or risk treason.”
“Oh, I’m certain you can find the earl if you really want him,” Adali lightly taunted the marquis of Hartsfield to see what he would do when torn between his brother’s suggestion and that of Adali.
“Edinburgh is our best bet,” Kipp St.Denis insisted.
“No!”the marquis said. “We are here, and surely it cannot be too difficult to find these places the old man has named.”
“And do not forget the games, my lord,” Adali helpfully volunteered, causing Kipp St.Denis to stare hard at him.
