The Fire in the Flint Read Free Page B

market day was now that the armies were seizing all that was worth eating.
    Securing both doors, Fergus and the dog headed for Margaret’s house. A chill breeze stirred from the river. There would be rain tonight.
    A stranger approached, a cleric, modestly attired. As he grew close he hailed Fergus by name, albeit with a hesitance, as if making a good guess.
    ‘You seek me?’ Fergus asked.
    The man bobbed his head. ‘I am David, come from Elcho Nunnery, sir. Your mother, Dame Christiana, sent me. I thought I might find you at the house of your goodbrother Roger Sinclair, but I encountered only a maidservant – badly frightened, she was. I think you might wish to see to her.’
    ‘I was on my way there,’ said Fergus, not waiting for more conversation. ‘Come along if you wish.’
    He found Jonet kneeling in the midst of chaos in Margaret’s hall. It was much as his father’s had been, documents tumbling off the shelves of a large dresser. A crock of lamp oil had also broken and stained several of the parchments. Jonet was picking up the shards of crockery and weeping.
    ‘They took neither food nor blankets – I had them airing in the backland,’ she said, when Fergus had coaxed her up and into a chair. ‘And the oil lamps on the wall, they were not taken.’
    ‘Did you see the intruder?’
    She shook her head. ‘I came in from the kitchen and found it like this. The Lord was watching over me. I might have walked in on the thief.’ She crossed herself. ‘But I should have heard.’
    ‘I am glad you weren’t accosted,’ Fergus said. ‘The hall can be tidied.’
    ‘But the letters and deeds, sir. Some of them are ruined.’
    ‘I’ll see to them. I know you are upset, but we have a visitor. We would have some wine.’
    When Jonet had left them, both men stood for a moment silently surveying the room.
    ‘I see that I come too late,’ said David. ‘Dame Christiana sent me to warn you that intruders broke into her room and searched it last night, and she feared they might come here next.’
    ‘Did her chamber look like this?’
    ‘Far worse. It is crowded with clothing and much else. It was all pulled out, turned over, spilled, trodden on. I saw no documents, however.’
    ‘She sent you – she was not harmed?’
    ‘Dame Christiana was frightened but not hurt.’
    ‘God be thanked.’
    Fergus said nothing else until Jonet had served them and withdrawn, but he thought the cleric’s expression had changed a little, become guarded.
    ‘Did my mother recognise the men?’
    ‘It was her handmaid who saw them. She said there were three. The room was dark when one pulled her from her bed and pushed her to the door, where another pushed her out. A third guarded her. Once they released her, she woke the convent.’
    ‘And my mother?’
    David averted his eyes. ‘Dame Christiana had gone out to walk along the river, and thus she was saved the encounter.’
    Fergus thought he left much out. ‘I would hear it all.’
    The cleric put aside the cup he’d just lifted. ‘Dame Christiana—’ He hesitated, glancing at Fergus as if asking for his help.
    ‘She had foreseen this?’
    The cleric looked relieved. ‘Yes. She knew of the intrusion before it happened, but knew not when it would occur. No, that is not quite right. Shesaid she awakened to the terror of their being in the room and fled out of doors. I am afraid that Dame Christiana’s explanation has caused much discussion about her wits.’
    Fergus could imagine. ‘My mother can be difficult to understand.’
    David nodded over his cup.
    Fergus recounted this event in a letter to Margaret, then debated with himself about sending it, for he could come to no resolution about what to do. He felt he’d been of no use when needed, allowing such a break-in to occur, and he admitted as much to his sister. He might just as well have gone to Aberdeen, where he had been about to become secretary to his uncle, a shipbuilder, when his father had decided he was