The Highlander's Thief

Chapter Ten

McWilliam took off down the hallway without glancing back, as though he fully expected Rosa to follow.

She halted in the doorway. There was nobody else around—the hallway was completely deserted and even the door at the far end where she guessed his sister lived was closed and the room beyond silent.

Where was he taking her?

"Come on," McWilliam called, striding down the spiral stairs and disappearing from sight.

Rosa hurried to catch up. It was too good of an opportunity to miss. If she was really going to escape Fortress Doom she needed to gather information about the layout as well as the comings and goings of the staff. That's what Bennie Cooke would do.

McWilliam had paused at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't look any happier at having to wait for her. They left the tower house through the same door they'd entered three days ago. It seemed this door was the only way in and out of the family residence. That, in itself, was important information, and she stored it away for later consideration.

Outside, a fresh breeze tickled her face. It smelt faintly of wood smoke and what she could only imagine was sheep. She took a deep breath.

She never realized it was possible to miss being outside this much. While this courtyard was nothing like the hustle and bustle of the streets of London, or the more quiet contemplative alleyways of Bradford, anything was a hundred times better than being cooped up in that ten by eight foot soul-crushingly boring bedchamber.

Back at ground level, Rosa could now see the entire courtyard. It was almost perfectly square with a squat tower house at each corner as well as a kitchen and veggie garden, blacksmith's workshop, and guard house. And everything was surrounded by the great, heavy stone wall. There was nothing romantic about it. The rough stone loomed overhead so that from the ground she could see nothing of the horizon beyond; just wall and then, above that, the depressingly overcast sky.

A cluster of servants worked by one of the other towers, beating dust from carpets they'd strung between two wooden poles. They looked around, bobbing their heads in greeting to the laird before their eyes came to rest on Rosa.

She could feel the anger and curiosity in their glare even at this distance.

The blacksmith stepped out from under his sheltered workshop, hands on hips as he looked Rosa up and down. He also wore a belt plait, the excess material tucked back in on itself to create pockets that were bulging with hammers and other tools Rosa didn't recognize.

"This way," McWilliam grunted, apparently oblivious to his servants' glares angled towards Rosa as he headed towards the portcullis.

It was open, and the drawbridge was down. From her bedchamber window, Rosa had noticed that a guard opened the gate every morning and closed it again each evening. Were the Lowlands really that dangerous? She sped up, keeping pace with McWilliam. She couldn't imagine anyone willingly attacking him. It would be like trying to topple one of the rocky mountains surrounding Fortress Doom. Nigh on impossible.

The worn heels of her hand-me-down half-boots clicked against the cobblestones as they crossed the courtyard.

"Where are we going?" Rosa asked as they passed under the spiked portcullis locked over their heads like a death trap.

He hadn't brought a horse, so they couldn't be going too far. On the other hand, there looked to be nothing more than fields and sheep within walking distance. There was quite literally nowhere for them to go.

"I want you to meet someone."

"Who?"

"You'll see."