His jaw worked, and he came so close that Maren could smell the decay on him. Was he too far gone, already a feast for worms? Was this a fool’s errand?
‘I will grant you this boon, Maren, this one last favour, if you will do something for me,’ he croaked the words out and was racked with a sudden bout of coughing, wet, tearing and awful.
‘What, marry a scoundrel, cheat, lie, steal or pay my weight in coin?’ she replied.
‘No. Just say a mass for me. Light a candle in the kirk and pray for my immortal soul so that I do not burn for all eternity in Hell’s flames.’
Maren gasped. ‘Now you find a conscience, after all the bad you have done? I do not believe it.’
Colm McEwen drew himself up to his full height, and he was suddenly terrifying again. ‘A man must balance the ledger of a bad life when he faces his end. If I kill Drayton, it will help, will it not? It will allow you to live without fear and might atone for my sins.’
‘I do not think one last murder will make up for all the others, Father.’
‘We will see. Do this for me. I do not want to go into that darkness without hope.’
Maren tried to reign in a sudden stab of pity for the broken, dying monster before her. ‘I doubt you have the strength to manage the task,’ she said.
‘You know that I do. Now, where can I find him?’
‘Last time I saw Drayton, he was at Crawdean Abbey.’
‘I know of it.’
‘Well, you won’t find him there now. But he has a slimy lad in his pay who bides in Swain Alley in Inverness. He has been passing messages to me. Keep eyes on the lad, and he will lead you to Drayton. But do not harm the lad, for he is blameless in this.’
‘What care you about Drayton’s creature?’
‘If I hear you have harmed that lad, you’ll have no candle lit in your name,’ she said, with steel in her voice.
‘We will see,’ snarled her father. ‘Now, go. Get on with your life, and I will take care of Drayton. He will get a slow, painful traitor’s death. And there is one more thing, daughter, to help me slip from Lucifer’s grasp.’
‘What?’
‘Drayton was never your husband.’ Colm McEwen smirked as if this was a great jest.
‘But we were wed before a priest,’ cried Maren. ‘What trick is this?’
‘You were never wed. The priest, I found in the gutter. He was in a group of travelling players – drunkards mostly, as those folk often are. He played his part to perfection, did he not? Why the wretch even fooled Drayton. That gave me great pleasure. So you were never wed in the eyes of the kirk. You may be a whore now, lying with a man who is not your husband, but you are no bigamist.’
‘What man?’
‘The one who came on the boat with you.’
She should have known. Her father had eyes everywhere.
Colm peered out of the window down to the yard below. ‘So who is that fop pacing beneath my window? Did you manage to find your way into a rich man’s bed? Did you finally make something of yourself, daughter?’
‘Never you mind. And he is no fop. He is…oh, I will not speak of him to you. Suffice to say, he is my choice, one you never gave me when you wed me to a murderous thug for your own ends.’
‘Then get him to kill Drayton for you. Or is he not up to it?’
‘I will not involve him in this.’
‘You don’t want him to dirty his soft white hands with murder. Whereas I….’
‘Whereas you have hands drenched in blood, Father.’
Her father’s eyes narrowed, giving his gaunt face a weasel’s cunning. ‘Ah, I see. He knows nothing of Drayton, does he?’
