Demon Sword

idea!' He glanced inquiringly at the captain, whose obvious impatience melted for a moment. He shrugged.

'Could use a cabin boy, Your Majesty.'

Hamish grinned widely.

'Longdirk?' said the king. 'Will you take him with you?'

'I won't take him, Your Majesty—'

Hamish wailed. 'But you promised—'

Toby had been joking then, as he was joking now, but he didn't want to have to explain all that. He was not good at gratitude, never having had much practice. He hadn't had much experience with friendship, either, yet he had discovered today how invaluable it was. He had learned that no man was strong enough to survive without friends. He had learned it from Captain MacLeod, almost a stranger. He had learned it from Hamish. The gawky young scholar had saved his life and his soul — not once but three times. He had brought the amethyst to the apothecary's, he had smashed the sapphire, he had stabbed Krygon. How much more friendship could a man display? Toby would have to learn gratitude, and soon.

He couldn't say all that. He was no good at speeches. 'No, I won't take him! Being responsible for Meg Campbell was a real pain, and I'm not going to fall into that trap again. The last thing I want is a snivelly child trailing after me, expecting me to wipe his nose and see he eats his vegetables and washes his socks every week.'

King Fergan's eyes twinkled. 'Quite understandable.'

'Toby! I'm not a—'

'Shut up, brat! Your Majesty, I refuse to be saddled with a wet-eared kid — wondering all the time if he's gotten into a bar, or a brothel, or a fight… Of course, I could use a man at my side who can be counted on in the bars and the brothels and the fights, because I'm going to get myself into all those sorts of troubles, and I'll need a friend beside me. I promised Meg I'd never fight for money again, but I'm sure there will be fights, so I'll need a good second, someone whose courage I can rely on. If anyone here knows of a man who could handle that, then I'd be glad to have him with me — equals, shoulder to shoulder. No, I won't take a boy. But if a man like that chose to come along… I could certainly use a trusty friend.'

Hamish had swelled like a pigeon on the bunk, almost filling his oversized doublet. He managed to force his voice into an adult range, but it sounded forced. 'Happens I'm thinking of heading south myself.'

'Would you mind if we traveled together?' Toby asked.

'I can put up with you, if you promise to stay away from hexers.'

The whole cabin burst into laughter, Toby louder than any. 'Think you can handle the brothels yet?' He wondered if he could.

Hamish glanced around in alarm, then straightened his shoulders manfully and grinned as wide as a pike. 'Well, certainly! Er… are there any books on that?'

CHAPTER NINE

The royal party had gone. The sun was shining. The Maid of Arran leaned into the breeze as she edged away from the pier. Her departure came none too soon, for the mob of townsfolk rampaging through the streets in search of the giant Highlander who burned houses and conjured demons had now reached the harbor. Toby had been ordered to stay out of sight, and Hamish had remained with him.

The kid was so excited that he barely glanced at the captain's bookshelf, although he peered carefully at a chart on the wall and jumped at every new noise. Mostly he knelt on the bunk with his head out the side window. The rest of the time he just squirmed around.

Toby sat uncomfortably on the chest and felt like a herring in a barrel. He should be feeling like a falcon loosed. He was no longer the laird's man, or Valda's man, or the king's man. What he had never dared admit, even to himself, was that he wanted to be his own man, however absurd that idea was for a landless orphan. At the moment he was bound only to work for Captain MacLeod, and that service would not last long.

Perhaps he was really the hob's man, but he had not found that situation too troublesome so far. Despite Father Lachlan's forebodings, the hob seemed content to view the world. Apart from its attack on Crazy Colin, which had been a unique revenge, it had interfered only when he was in danger from demons. It had been unpleasantly attracted by the broadsword that Annie had provided, but it had let him dispose of it when he insisted. It had not interfered in his fight with Randal because he had not had it with him then. A well-intentioned hob would be a valuable friend.

He had learned a lot about friendship. Friends were where you found them, or they found you. He would never have chosen the hob, or even Hamish. Hamish had chosen him, but he had learned to enjoy the kid's company. His chatter didn't seem so bad anymore — a man got used to it — and he had more than proved his worth this morning. His brains and book learning were exactly what a dumb lunk like Toby Strangerson needed around.

Of course, Teacher Neal Campbell of Tyndrum was going to have a dozen simultaneous fits when he received Father Lachlan's letter and learned that his son had gone off adventuring to foreign lands with the terrible bastard. That realization had been one of the brightest spots in a very eventful day, but it had had nothing to do with Toby's decision to take the lad. At least, he hoped it hadn't. He was just obeying the king's orders!

Hamish plopped his seat down on the bunk. 'Toby, this is exciting, isn't it?'

'More exciting than fighting demons?'

'Well… no. I prefer this, though.'

'We've had an exciting couple of weeks. A quiet cruise is exactly what we need.'

'Just think,' Hamish said dreamily, 'Meg Tanner as the next countess of Argyll! Me and you off to explore the world, and you've got the hob round your neck!' He frowned. 'You don't suppose we'll find Portugal dull after this, do you?'

'Where is Portugal? South?'

'Everywhere's south from Scotland.' Hamish went back to the window. 'It'll be hot. They grow grapes and olives and oranges.'

Whatever they were.

He pulled his head back in for a moment. 'And after we've seen Portugal, we can go on to Castile! Granada or Aragon, maybe? Or Savoy?'

Wherever they were.

'Anywhere you like,' Toby agreed. They would probably get rounded up into somebody's army, of course, fighting for or against the Tartars.

As the ship turned into the firth, the burgh was coming into view through the larger rear window. Vast clouds of smoke were still rising from the western end. Rory would sneer and repeat that Toby was a walking disaster. Suddenly Hamish pulled his head in and aimed a glum look at Toby.

'What's wrong?'

The kid pulled a face like an owl that had swallowed a bad mouse. 'The fire! I almost wish I hadn't released you from the hex.'

'I hope you don't mean that! The fire's not your fault. The tutelary's back and can deal with it. You couldn't have known what would happen. Valda was the one who played dangerous games with demons. The guilt is hers.'

Hamish scowled. 'I'm surprised the captain lets you stay, now that he knows you've got the hob with you.'

Toby pulled out the amethyst on its chain and dangled it, winking flashes of purple light. 'He'll just throw it overboard if it causes any trouble.' And Toby with it! He doubted he could ever bring himself to part with it. It was still Granny Nan's farewell gift to him, and he would cherish it for that reason alone. Then he looked at his guilt- ridden young companion and remembered that one duty of friends was comfort in times of trouble.

'I hate to think what I would be now if you hadn't brought it to Valda's lair. How did you know about it?'