Page 1 of Ladybird

Chapter 1

BLACKPOOL, ENGLAND, 1377

Thief-takers, or bounty hunters as they were sometimes called,weren’t openly welcome in most establishments. Actually, they weren’t welcome anywhere at all.

Hunter Chase’s paid profession of bringing in fugitives to whichever lord or noble paid him the most was looked down upon in this dirty, dingy tavern on the docks. The seedy hole-in-the-wall stank from old sweat and rough sex. The soiled rushes on the floor were caked with rotten food and sticky spittle, smelling worse than the piss-filled cells of the Shrewsbury dungeon where Hunter’s father had once been a guard. Rodents scurried over the patrons’ feet as well as across the warped and moldy drink board where the proprietor poured whisky and strong ale to men with tattered clothes and missing teeth.

Aye, even the walls seemed to move on their own with the amount of vermin that lodged there. Still, no one inside the tavern even seemed to notice its unpleasant state. The whores sidled up to the drinking men, straddling the laps of sailors. The working girls pressed up against the drunkards while the men eagerly hiked up the tarts’ skirts and fondled their nearly-naked breasts. Bawdy laughter emerged from one dark corner while a fight broke out in another. The sound of flesh smashing into flesh as well as tables overturning, rent the air. The proprietor shouted a string of curses, flinging a throwing knife through the air. The blade lodged into the wall just next to one of the offenders’ heads, nearly hitting the man. Hunter was sure blood would not only be spilled but be flowing like a river before this night was over.

No good ever came from a place like this. Hunter knew that better than anyone. The Thirsty Toad Tavern used to be where he spent more nights than he could count at one time. This rat’s nest was always filled to the brim with sinners, whores, murderers and thieves.

Just the type of place he was looking for.

Hunter took a swig of ale and gently placed his tankard down atop a layer of filth on the table, being careful not to breathe too hard so as not to take on a pestilence of any kind. He bit his lip and nodded. Yes, he decided. This place was perfect.

He nursed his drink in the dark corner, patiently waiting for his target to show. Hunter had spent the last few weeks tracking down three men who not only robbed a nobleman on the road but killed one of Lord Sheffield’s guards as well. Already, Hunter had managed to apprehend two of the three criminals who were now thankfully behind bars. But their leader, Guimart the Grim as the man was called, had been proving to be more than a challenge to catch. Tonight, however, Hunter’s job would be finished. He had tracked the man all the way from Sheffield to the docks of Blackpool.There was no doubt in Hunter’s mind that Guimart would end up here next. Especially on such a busy night. The man would want to unload the goods he’d stolen. And there was no better place to do it than amongst cutthroats and thieves.

All Hunter had to do was to clap the murderer in irons and send him back to Lord Sheffield where the thief would then be imprisoned and probably hanged. Hunter was so certain that Guimart would show up in this tavern tonight that he’d sent word to Lord Bohun in Sheffield days ago to meet him here. Two of Bohun’s guards arrived earlier and now sat at the next table under hooded cloaks as well. They drank and waited for Hunter to catch and hand over the fugitive to them.

With his head down and a tankard of ale clenched in his fist, Hunter tried to remain unnoticed. If this crowd realized a man of his profession was amongst them, they’d all hightail it out the door in the blink of an eye. Hunter needed to blend in with the patrons and at the same time keep his face and weapons hidden by his cloak so there was no chance he’d be identified. He’d spent the past few nights in here, and so far it hadn’t been a problem. Still, he couldn’t risk it much longer or someone would discover who he really was.

The Thirsty Toad wasn’t new surroundings to Hunter. Sadly, it had been where Hunter spent many of his nights at one time when he worked as a mercenary with his father. He had a dark past that he wasn’t proud of, and coming back here wasn’t easy for him. But times were different now, he reminded himself. He wasn’t a sword for hire anymore and didn’t need to kill on command. Most of his jobs being a thief-taker involved apprehending criminals, not killing them. He only killed in self-defense now, and only if he couldn’t help it.

Gone were the days of having to sell his soul to be able to feed himself. Once his father died, things had changed drastically for Hunter. Five years ago he took guardianship of his nephew, Luke, when his sister, Mary, died suddenly from a bad heart. With a child in tow, he gave up being a sword for hire. He wouldn’t raise this boy the way he’d grown up. No one needed that!

Hunter took up the job of thief-taker, being able to support them both. He was also able to take the boy with him wherever he went. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but it was better than being a mercenary. Plus, Hunter could keep the boy under his protection. He was doing his best to make a new life for himself and Luke. However, his thirteen-year-old nephew was quite a handful these days, and not at all easy to control. It worried Hunter that the boy might end up going down the wrong path in life.

A few more good-paying jobs like this, and hopefully Hunter’s troubles would be over. He planned to find a new home in a good town to live in where nobody knew them and where he could start over. Perhaps when he stopped traveling so much, he’d find a nice town-girl to marry and settle down with as well.

He looked up to see Luke leaning against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his chest. The boy acted as Hunter’s lookout. Someone entered the establishment and Luke’s body stiffened. He stood up straight, cocking his head as he perused the ugly woman who’d stepped foot in the tavern. Luke motioned to Hunter and shrugged.

Hunter smiled and downed the last of his ale. His suspicions had just paid off. Since Guimart kept evading capture, Hunter realized the man must be traveling in disguise. The Thirsty Toad only attracted one type of female in this dump, and it wasn’t the ugly ones. It was the ones who came here to sell their bodies and make a quick fistful of money.

This was what he’d been waiting for and now all his efforts were about to pay off. Hunter looked over at the guards and held a finger aside his nose, giving them the signal to be ready but not to do a thing until he approached the man first. Scraping his feet slowly across the floor, Hunter prepared to stand.

Stroking the iron shackles hanging at his waist, he made sure they were still hidden by his cloak, and next to his sword that he usually wore on his back. He stood and sauntered over to the drink board where the ugly woman had already laid down a pouch. Soft whispers passed between the ugly woman and the proprietor as the guards stood and slowly followed Hunter across the room. Then the woman reached for the pouch to open it, but Hunter’s hand slammed down atop it, preventing any kind of exchange.

“What have you got here?” asked Hunter, his senses on full alert as he snapped up the pouch and took a quick peek inside it.

“Let go of my things,” came a deep growl. The woman looked up at him and when she did Hunter smiled at seeing stubble on her chin. Just as he thought. The she was a he after all.

“Well, Guimart, it seems your journey has come to an end.” Hunter slowly lowered his hood to reveal his identity, watching the man’s eyes open wide in fright. “You’re going to pay for stealing these goods as well as murdering an innocent man,” Hunter continued. “You’re going to prison and will probably end up on the gallows because of what you did.”

Guimart spun on his heel, racing for the door just like Hunter knew he would.

“Bad move,” mumbled Hunter, closing up the pouch of stolen coins and jewels and tossing it to one of Bohun’s guards. “Do it, Luke,” he called across the room, following the path of the fleeing man.

Luke slammed the door closed, unsheathing the sword that Hunter had given him for his last birthday. It had been Hunter’s father’s sword at one time. The boy held out the long blade with two hands, barely able to keep pointing the tip directly at Guimart because of the weight of the weapon and the boy’s lack of muscles. Still, his action and the size of the sword made an impact on the thief. Guimart stopped in his tracks and pulled a knife. Then he changed his mind and spun around and ran in the opposite direction, heading back toward Hunter.

Hunter was skilled in using just about any weapon and had his father to thank for that. However, in this situation he could see that the sword strapped to his side wouldn’t even be needed tonight. Nay, this would be even easier than he thought. He chuckled under his breath. No thief in a dress was going to be able to slip away from him.

Guimart was fast and slippery with his moves. But when he got close, Hunter’s fist shot out and smashed into the man’s jaw, knocking the thief to the floor.

“Enough of this,” grumbled Hunter. “I’ve got other vermin to catch.” When Guimart reached for Hunter’s legs to bring him down, Hunter stomped his boot down upon the man’s wrist, causing him to cry out. “If you think that hurts, wait until you see what Lord Bohun has in store for you in his dungeon.” Hunkering down, Hunter quickly flipped the man onto his stomach, pulling his arms behind him and clamping the iron shackles around his wrists.

“Leave me be! I didn’t do nothin,’” spat the man, fire burning in his dark angry eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” Hunter yanked the thief to his feet and kicked the man’s knife across the floor. “Does that pouch belong to Lord Bohun?” he asked the guards.