Hungry and angry, I made my way outside and walked, kicking at any rocks or sticks that lay in my path. I chose a well-worn, winding trail through woodland. I had no idea where the trail would lead me, and didn’t really care. The trees were filled with songbirds, and I was thankful for the sunshine and early summer breeze which helped to clear my head.
I could not shake the feeling that my Uncle Lachlan was a traitor. If he became Kilgore’s eyes and ears, stealing around Freswick Bay for information on our allegiance with Earl Sinclair, whatever that might be, he would betray my family. I would not allow that, and thought of Kilgore. What contract had my Uncle signed with this man? I felt concern for more than his English pedigree, something about him caused me great unease, and he asked too many questions. I broke a dead limb off a nearby tree using it to knock down the tall grass that grew into the path.
My meeting with Helen came to mind. She had aroused feelings within me to which I was unaccustomed. The way she looked at me. No, the way I felt when she did, as though she could see right into my soul. When our eyes had locked together the previous day I could almost hear her thoughts. She liked me, and yet if her father’s intentions were for Helen to be Alexander’s wife, there would be no prospect of a relationship between us. Besides, he had housed me with the livestock.
I came out of the woods at the edge of a bluff above Lachlan’s foundry. The long stone building had three tall chimneys, one at each end and one in the middle. The place seemed empty, not surprising as Lachlan, a devout Catholic, would not have his workers labour on the Sabbath.
I had never been inside a foundry, but knew well the ships’ fittings that came from this place. I walked down to the entry door, thinking no harm would come from a look inside. To my delight it had been left unlocked.
Inside I found the birth place of oar locks, eye bolts and single block hooks. Many of the metal pieces used in the construction of the ships at Freswick Bay were here, boxes and boxes of the long tapered nails that Uncle John used in the plank-on-rib construction in which he took so much pride.
I became so engrossed in trying to determine the foundry process that I forgot about my hunger and my anger toward Lachlan and Kilgore. I wished that a full complement of workers had been present to show me how they molded each of the pieces. Indeed, I was so impressed with the foundry that a grudging respect for my uncle Lachlan started to take hold. What puzzled me was the fact that I had seen three chimneys from my approach to the building but once inside had only found two main fires used for smelting metal. A stone wall stood behind the second smelting fire pit.
I walked back through the entrance and up the steep path to the spot on the bluff where I had first seen the building. Sure enough, there were three chimneys. I looked toward the end of the building to see if there was a second path that would take me there. No path appeared obvious through the thick underbrush, yet the heavy soot at the top of the chimney told me that it was still very much in use.
“What are you doing?” The voice startled me. I spun around to see two large men, hands upon their swords, staring at me.