“There’s where ye’re wrong, Daughter,” Angus elaborated. “They stay outside the town limits and prey on the smaller villages and farmsteads instead. They only use the camps as a meeting point where the goods are appraised and exchanged.”
“If they are scattered all over the countryside, hidden in the forests growing around the towns—the ones that provide the town’s inhabitants with firewood, foraging, and hunting—then it stands to reason anyone coming across them wouldnae associate a small camp of vagabonds with a huge gang of criminals,” Slaine added.
Angus tilted his mug of ale in Slaine’s direction in agreement. “Ye speak the truth.”
“They must have been at this long enough to think things through to their best advantage,” Slaine said, banging his mug down on the table and signaling for the barkeep to give him a refill.
“Aye! That’s the point. Petty cattle rustling and the occasional cutpurse incident in one hundred places around the Highlands is nothing unusual, but when ye total it all together, well then, it comes to a pretty penny,” Angus shook his head at the cleverness of it all.
“There must be someone in charge, one man who’s controlling all the bandits and devising their wretched strategies, surely?” Blair said.
Angus shrunk down in his chair and whispered, “Aye…”
Blair and Slaine looked interested when he said this.
“Go on,” Blair said.
“Cannae we have a nice, normal breakfast without ruining it with all these questions?” Angus pleaded.
Blair’s father shook like a blancmange, closed his eyes at the memory, but told them, “I only met the man once. It was he who had taken such a fancy to that poor woman when they captured her as a child. He said she was the most strapping lass he’d ever laid eyes on; her red hair and green eyes reminded him of the shield maidens of the Norsemen. As she grew in age and beauty, he was convinced she had the ability to cast spells over men with her slanted green eyes. The gang became superstitious about her and thought her a witch, a changeling they had found hiding and waiting for them.”
“Why would they think that?” Blair was intrigued by this woman and felt a kindred spirit with her.
“The chief told me himself. I dinnae wish to sully yer ears with what he said, Daughter, but apparently, if a man drunkenly tried to force himself on her or even woo her in earnest, his passion would wither with one look from her eyes. And then—he would fall sick and die!”
Blair gave a shiver. Perhaps the woman was a powerful witch, but even if she were, it was no justification for her slavery.
“Tell me more about this chieftain,” Slaine said. “I want a good description of the man in case I ever bump into him.”
Angus gazed at Slaine shrewdly, sizing him up.
“I like ye, young man. Ye seem to have all yer wits about ye. So, I’ll tell it to ye straight. If ye were to try and take on the brigand chief, ye would lose. For I have never met a taller, stronger, more powerful-looking brute in all me life.”
Blair was not impressed and had misgivings her father might be exaggerating. “Bigger than Slaine? I doubt it.”
Angus was adamant, “That he is. ‘Twas he who handed the woman over to me in Flichity. He told me to take good care of her because he had decided to make her his wife when they were reunited in the forest camp outside Cromachy. He told me he’d ordered for a chapel bower to be crafted out o’ tree branches and had even bought a silken tent from the southern lands across the seas for them to use as their bridal bedchamber.”
“How will they conduct a legal ceremony all the way out there?” Blair queried.
“They are sure to boast a corrupt clergy official amongst their numbers,” Angus said grimly. “When there are no lairds left to govern, good folks can turn bad very quickly.”
He thought awhile, then added, “Ye want to ken more about this chieftain and the woman? He is so tall as to have to bend his head under a door lintel. I hope he is kind to her once the bairns arrive because their children will be more like giants than human folk.”
Blair scoffed, “Slaine is as tall as that. It’s why he doesnae wear a hat because the ceilings would just keep knocking it off.”
Slaine interjected into their discussion about his height. “This is all useless conjecture. The chieftain and woman are in all likelihood married by now, and probably having breakfast in their silken Arabian pavilion.”
“I dinnae think so,” Angus said, wiping his mouth with the tablecloth. “The chief is still making his way here on horseback today. He said he needed a few days in Flichity to wrap up his business so he could enjoy his betrothal night for many an hour.”
“Hm,” Slaine grunted. “I hope her last day of freedom is enough to keep her satisfied for the rest of her life.” He looked out the window at the sky. “‘Tis pretty enough weather. Maybe it will put the woman in a more hopeful frame of mind.”
Angus scoffed, “I have me doubts. I have seen how he treats the other women who have come and gone from his bedchamber through the years. They arrive all perky and bright and leave weeping and ruined. The poor wretches have even asked me for a lift to take them away, but the chief never lets them leave until he’s done with them. If they be comely, he beats their faces so bad their own mithers wouldnae recognize them; if they be shapely and straight, they leave heavy with bairn and crooked from hard labor. Like I said, he appreciates women until he’s had his fill o’ them.”
“He must be a very handsome man to have so many women flock to him, even after what he’s done to the others…” Blair postulated, trying to make sense of it all.
Angus gave a shout of laughter and then raised his hand in an apology when all the other taproom patrons looked at him.
“His face matches his blackguard manners and bestial nature, Daughter. Let me try an’ describe the boorish deviant to ye. He is as wide as he is tall—in truth, his belly is made fat from feasting on stolen cattle every night. He loves his drink, so much it’s turned his cheeks into huge chops of purple wattle and his nose as red as the biggest Christmas holly berry ye can imagine. His arms and legs are huge slabs, like hairy tree trunks. The hair on his face doesnae just grow out in a beard, it sprouts from his ears and nostrils like some exotic plant from the Americas.”
