Judging from the revelry and the men I could see through the thick glass window, the Loaf and Tankard tavern did a good trade. The well-constructed stone building was almost full, and judging by their clothing, the clientele were not off the sewage-strewn streets of Ackergill. They seemed to be merchants and men of business. I glimpsed my image in the wavy glass of the window. Soaked, my hair matted against my bruised and swollen face, I looked like something Hades had thrown back. But, I did have Robert’s letter, albeit a bit soggy from the wet, so I entered the noisy room and was instantly warmed by the heat of the fire that roared in the stone fireplace directly opposite. The men closest to the door noticed me first, then one by one the others turned to look, and the tavern went quiet.
“Who are you?” A portly man entertaining a group broke the silence.
“You’re either very brave, or particularly stupid to wear that tartan in these parts.” A stocky, red-haired man said.
“I am looking for Thomas Sinclair.” I stood tall and walked to the middle of the room, my broadsword strapped to my back. I was scared but no one was going to see it. The dry warmth of the fire felt good on my feet, numbed by the wet and cold. I looked at the people in the room and quickly determined that while I looked out of place, these men were not my enemies.
“Never heard of him!” the portly man said with a haughty laugh, and his companions laughed along with him.
A well-dressed ruddy faced man, as round as he was tall, came from the back of the room and stood before me.
“What can I do for you, Lad?”
“Are you Thomas Sinclair?”
“I am, and I have no business with you.”
I pulled Robert’s wilting letter from my tunic, and examined the seal before presenting it to Sinclair. “The seal is not broken which will prove the letter authentic.”
Sinclair ran his fat thumb over the unbroken wax seal, his kind dark brown eyes studying me intently. Slipping his finger under the seal to break it, he walked to the light of an oil lamp to read the letter. His stern expression didn’t change at first, but something in the letter caused him to pause and look over at me, before he concluded reading it. With a broad smile he crumpled up the letter, then walked over to the fire and tossed it in.
“William,” he said “welcome to the Loaf and Tankard. I was a good friend of your father’s, and remain a good friend to your uncles John, James and Robert. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need. We supply one meal a day which if you are hungry you can eat now. Do you have a horse?
“Aye, well I did have one, but he was stolen earlier tonight, by a street urchin.” I started to tell the story, but Thomas didn’t seem to care if he heard it. He just grunted and nodded his head.
“Then you will have no need of the stable at the back of the tavern. I will see that you have a clean bed upstairs. Do you want food?”
I nodded; after all I had not eaten properly in over three days, so I welcomed the offer of a hot meal, but I could not let the matter of my horse go by.
“If you have a stable, is there a chance that I could have the use of a horse tomorrow morning? I have urgent business that requires I have a speedy mount.”
“You don’t say,” Sinclair chuckled, “urgent business of what kind, William?”
I hesitated, conscious of the extended ears surrounding me. “It’s a private matter.”
“As long as your need for a speedy horse is not to provide you escape with something you have stolen, “he laughed, eyes twinkling, “I think we can find you a horse.”
“What do you mean by that? Why would you say that?” I stopped myself, realizing that if I protested Sinclair’s suspicion too strongly, I might convince him that he was right.
Sinclair only smiled, and directed me to a small round table to the left of the fire. He called for the crowd’s attention. “Now see here, this is William Gunn, the son of Henry Gunn who was a good friend to me. I am also friends with Henry’s brothers, James, Robert and John, so William is welcomed to the Loaf and Tankard as a friend.” It was almost like a toast that Thomas Sinclair gave, and the clientele raised their mugs in unison.
“To William Gunn, a friend!” A flagon of ale was placed upon my table by a pretty, dark-haired girl with green eyes, who smiled and gave me a wink.
“Relax, William, you are now amongst friends. I will see to it that you are not bothered. Maggie has made a fine pot of mutton stew and dumplings, yours will be along soon.
Thomas met a smiling woman who I took to be Maggie, and whispered in her ear. She looked at me, nodded and smiled. I smiled back in anticipation of my hot bowl of stew, and sat back in the slouching chair, feeling for the first time the blisters on my inner thighs from squeezing the coarse blanket over Shorty’s bony back during my long ride. Every part of my body ached, and as I drank the ale I fought to stay awake.
I put my mind to what would have to be done in the morning. I was afraid that I was so tired I would oversleep and miss my meeting with Nelly. As I waited for the food, I drank my ale, and had no sooner finished the first than was presented with a second, which I tried to refuse.
“Sinclair insists. Consider it a toast to your father and his friendship with Thomas, so to speak.” The dark-haired girl smiled and scrunched up her nose. I looked at Thomas, who had returned to sit with his friends. He raised his own mug and winked.
I took a healthy drink, and looked around the tavern. Thomas had made the interior of his tavern look much like the galley of a large ship. There were ropes hung with block and tackle on the wall. Ships’ lanterns provided ample light along with the familiar smell of burning seal oil. It was a happy place and became even more so as the men drank the dark ale, and broke out into an occasional song between rounds of laughter and feigned argument over various dice games. Thomas brought me my pot of stew
“Mr. Sinclair…” I took a big mouthful of stew.
“Thomas, please call me Thomas, William.”
“Fine then, Thomas. You and your wife have been kind to me, so I am reluctant to ask you for two things that will greatly assist me in my quest.”
“Ask away. If I can make it happen I shall do so.”
“A young woman will come to the tavern with fresh clothes for me to wear tomorrow? These clothes are filthy, wet and smell foul. I would be most grateful if you would see to it that her delivery is not impeded by any of your cliental who may think her an easy rut for the night.”
“Done,” Thomas replied.
I took another mouthful of the stew and washed it down with ale. It tasted good, and I ate more quickly, too quickly perhaps as I felt a sudden dizziness coming over me. The voices around me seemed muted and slurred.
“What is the second request?” Sinclair asked after a short pause in the conversation.
“Oh, aye, I almost forgot.” I shook my head to try to get the room to stay still. “I must wake before sunrise. I must not be late…” I was having a difficult time trying to stay focused. “If I am not already up…”
“You really plan to sneak into the Keith castle, then?”
I looked at Thomas, and he back at me. I was not sure that I had heard him correctly as his words seemed slow and drawled.
“I assume you plan to recover your horse, and who else but a Keith would steal it?”
My mind seemed confused, and the room was in motion. I ate more stew, hoping that it would dull what I thought were the effects of the ale. “Why did you ask me that?”
“Ask you what, William?”
“That I plan to steal into…” I looked at Thomas who was studying me.” I didn’t say anything about the Keith castle.”
“You are tired my boy, your horse has been stolen, forcing you to walk a long distance through the wind and rain. I suggest you eat, drink up and get some rest. The world will seem a different place when you awake.”
“I must not oversleep…”
“I rise regularly before sunrise.” Thomas was smiling, but his head seemed to be moving in circles. I blinked my eyes, and opened them wide to try to stop the motion.
The more I ate, the more tired I seemed to become. I was exhausted from the trials of the last few days. “I must get some sleep.” I could hardly keep my eyes open. I tried to get up, and the tavern started to spin wildly. I felt myself rocking on my feet, and saw Thomas and another man standing beside me.
“Everything will be fine, William.” Thomas was no longer smiling.