She ignored him and turned towards the tavern owner. ‘How long since Urist ab Urist departed?’
‘Before first light. They were going to go slowly up to the ford.’ He lowered his voice and turned away from the stranger, ensuring the other villagers also couldn’t hear him. ‘I was to tell any lady who asked, but no one else, particularly no warrior. Urist was nine kinds of jumpy last night. He kept talking about unexpected developments and the need for secrecy. He paid his bills in full, something he rarely does.’
Ceanna nodded. He was going slowly to give time for the stragglers—most likely her—to catch up if they knew where to head. Or at least she hoped she’d interpreted the cryptic message correctly. Urist did not head towards the ford, but away from it towards the loch.
‘I thank you kindly, then. I’ll find another to...to deliver my message.’ She briefly nodded and started to back towards the door. Catching up would be possible if she hurried.
‘Not so fast.’ The stranger’s hard fingers gripped her arm. ‘We have not finished our discussion.’
‘Yes, we have. You have your business to attend to and I’ve mine.’ She glared at him. ‘Our short acquaintance has ended. Release me.’
‘I’ve no wish to alarm you, but my need to get to Nrurim as soon as possible drives me.’ He slowly released his fingers, but continued to stand far too close. Ceanna retreated a step and put a hand over the place where his fingers had been. ‘If you know where he is, take pity on me, I beseech you.’
At the end of his speech he fell to his knees like a supplicant. She stared at him for a long breath without speaking. With a sigh, he rose. ‘I’m in no mood for tricks which Pictish guides play on unwary travellers.’
‘I’ve as much idea as you where Urist could be,’ she said, secretly crossing her fingers. A small stretching of the truth, but did a man from the North deserve the full truth, considering what he and his countrymen had put her land through? Considering how he had grabbed her arm and demanded she tell him what she knew? Urist clearly didn’t trust him. Why should she?
He put his face closer to hers. ‘I paid gold in advance. Do you think it right to cheat a man?’
She twisted the folds of her gown over and over between her fingers. ‘You will have to take the matter up with Urist. I cannot help you in that.’
‘You must!’
The entire tavern went still at his raised voice.
The tavern owner jerked his head towards the door. ‘Out, Northman scum. You’ve finished your drink. We don’t need your sort nosing around here, bothering people. Go now.’
The remainder of the tavern stamped their feet and thumped their fists on the tables in agreement.
The stranger seemed to sense the mood of the drinkers had altered and departed without a backward glance or another word.
Ceanna forced the air into her lungs. She was safe here. The tavern owner was a sworn liegeman of her father’s. She had little doubt that he’d counsel her to remain here and wait for the next guide, that he’d tell her there was always another guide. But if she did that, she’d be discovered and dragged back to the unwelcome marriage while the people here were punished. It was better that they knew nothing about her plans.
‘My lady...’
She gave what she hoped was an imperious nod, but greatly suspected that the effect was ruined by the way one of her braids suddenly developed a life of its own and fell over her forehead. ‘I will bid you good day as well. You delivered your message as Urist hoped you would.’
‘That one. The Northman. He has killed many times before. I am certain of it. It is in the deadness of the eyes.’ The tavern owner shook his head. ‘I should have refused him food and drink. Return to Dun Ollaigh and send word to your aunt instead. Stop this foolishness about finding Urist. I wouldn’t trust him further than I could toss him.’
Return to Dun Olliagh only to die from an unfortunate but well-timed accident? She knew what she’d overheard two nights ago and the plans her stepmother had. Ceanna swallowed the rising indignation in her throat.
‘It’s no crime to drink or eat peacefully. I presume he paid you in advance,’ she said when she trusted her voice.
‘Aye, he did. Handsomely. Far better than this lot.’ The tavern keeper laughed, but then sobered. ‘Will you be safe, my lady? I can provide an escort back to Dun Ollaigh and your father.’
‘Your offer is kind, but I make my own way.’ She measured the distance to the door. Running would simply alert people to the fact that she wanted her freedom. She would advance slowly and then run.
‘Whatever trouble ails you, my lady, you’ll be safe here under my roof.’
Ceanna covered his rough hand with hers. Safe under his roof, but for how long? A true counterweight to her stepmother in the long term had to be the church as she was fresh out of heroes riding to her rescue. ‘I know how my father values you and your service to him.’
His cheeks went pink and he ran his hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know what the world is coming to. Your father gravely ill and that woman—’
‘Neither do I, but I have to keep on.’ She took a deep breath and attempted to remember the speech she’d practised, the one in case anyone misguidedly tried to halt her progress. ‘I’ve been blessed with a profound vision: that my future lies in Nrurim with my aunt. Ignoring such a vision would be against God’s will since it came to me when I knelt at evening prayer.’
The words sounded hollow to her ears, but the tavern keeper looked at her with a kind of awe. Inwardly Ceanna smiled. Maybe her idea
