“Get some rest,” he told her as they entered the tent. “If ye think ye’ll be all right alone fer a wee while, I’d like tae go and have a word with Colin. But I’ll be back in an hour or so tae check on ye. Will that be all right?”
“Aye, I feel all right, but I’m awful hungry. I think I’ll have somethin’ tae eat and then rest until ye come back,” she said.
“I’ll see ye in a wee while then,” he said, leaving the tent to go see Colin. He was eager to find out from his captain if any information had come in to confirm the existence of a secret way into the castle, though he was now pretty much convinced there was. He had noticed the way the barman in the inn had clammed up when he asked about it, which made him suspicious that the man was hiding something.
Then there was Joyce Shilling, who had worked at the castle. He was sure she had been about to confirm there was another way in when Annie had spilled the wine on her dress. That had been very unfortunate. But even without her confirmation, his sixth sense told him the hidden entrance was there somewhere, and he intended to find it.
There was also the matter of the whereabouts of Galbraith’s missing sister. He wanted to know if the scouts sent to search for her had found her. As all those thoughts were buzzing in his mind, he made his way to Colin’s tent.
“Ah, ye’re back,” the captain said when Ewan looked inside. Colin was sitting at the flimsy table and, judging by the jug of ale and flask of whisky before him, was enjoying a relaxing drink. “Before ye say anythin’, I’m off duty,” the captain informed Ewan, raising a dram in mock salute before downing it in one swallow.
“Me too, man. Pour me a dram, will ye? I could dae with a drink,” Ewan said, taking the vacant chair opposite his friend. Colin obliged, and also poured them a foaming beaker of ale each.
“So, what’s been happenin’ while I’ve been gone? Any news?” he asked his second in command.
“Nay, naethin’ tae write home about, and nae a squeak about Galbraith’s sister. But the men will be settin’ off soon in search of this supposed secret entrance tae the castle, so that might prove worthwhile’.”
“Aye, I’m lookin’ forward tae seein’ if they find anythin’,” Ewan said, swallowing his dram and pouring himself another.
“How did ye get on in the village? Did ye find out anythin’?” Colin asked.
Ewan began to tell him what had happened that evening. As the pair discussed things, they continued drinking steadily. Ewan found himself enjoying the brief respite from his responsibilities. However, even though he felt quite drunk, when he imagined roughly an hour and a half might have passed, he remembered he had to go and check on Annie.
He hauled himself to his feet. “I must get back tae see if she’s all right,” he muttered.
“What?” Colin said. “Who’sshe?” He suddenly grinned. “Ye havenae brought a wee bedmate back from the village fer the night, have ye, Ewan?”
“Ach, bloody hell! Damn that whisky,” Ewan exclaimed, not so drunk as to not realize he had made a serious slip up.
“Ye have, haven’t ye?” Colin asked, laughing.
Ewan raked his hands through his hair as he looked at his friend, the man he trusted with his life and felt terrible about lying to. He made a decision. “Ach, I might as well tell ye. But ye must swear nae tae tell a soul,” he said.
“Why? What is it?” the captain asked, his brow wrinkling with curiosity.
“Swear on yer life.”
“Fer God’s sake man, I swear!”
“All right. ’Tis Harris,” Ewan began and stopped, not quite knowing how to go on.
“What about Harris?”
“Ye all think he’s a lad.”
Colin’s face creased up even further, in obvious bewilderment. “What are ye goin’ on about, man?.”
Ewan leaned his palms on the table and shook his head. “Nay, ye’re wrong. He’s nae a lad. He’s a lassie, and her name is Annie Dean.”
After a moment’s pause, Colin burst in to laughter. “That’s a good, one, Ewan. Harris, a lassie! Pull the other one, man. Ye’ve had too much of that whisky, I reckon, Ye’re ravin’.” He slapped his thigh in merry disbelief.
“’Tis true, I tell ye. Harris is just a disguise. Underneath that uniform, he’s a… she,” Ewan said more urgently, having enough wherewithal to keep his voice low lest they be overheard.
“Ye cannae be serious, Ewan,” Coin protested, his expression turning from mirth to alarmed incomprehension.
“I am bein’ bloody serious. D’ye think I’d make up somethin’ like that?” He sat down again and proceeded to tell his friend everything he had been keeping from him. He told him about how he had been sleeping in his cot and been awoken by a noiseand found himself about to be stabbed by an assassin, who, after a struggle, he had managed to overcome.
“And when I pulled off the assassin’s cap, ye can imagine me surprise when I discovered it was a woman!”
