Deplorium
was awoken in his bed
By the sharp
point of a sword that was pressed against his head
He stared in
terror and his heart instantly pounded
When he saw
that the laird’s soldiers had him surrounded
“Get oot o’
bed,” said the soldier who had the sword to his head. “Ye’ve been summoned tae
Laird MacBlach’s. You an’ the two wee Sassenachs.”
“Why?” asked
Deplorium. “Ah’ve done nothin’ wrong.”
“Jist dae
what ah say or ah’ll slay ye where ye lay,” responded the soldier. “An’ gie
yersel’ a wash first. Ye really pong!”
Deplorium
got washed and dressed and went to wake up Truman and Borium
“You look
very pale,” Borium said to Deplorium. “Does something ail?”
“Look, try
not tae be scared. Some soldiers have come tae take us tae the laird.”
Borium
stared at him wide eyed. “I’m not scared, I’m petrified!”
“Lord have
mercy on us this day,” whined Truman and got down on his knees and started to
pray.
“Och, would
you two hush,” said Deplorium irritably. “Get yersel’s ready. We need tae
rush.”
A little
while later they arrived at the manor house
“Ye’ve been
pilferin’ again, Deplorium,” said MacBlach. “An’ don’t try tae deny it, ya
sneaky wee louse.”
“Laird
Macblach, ah dinnae ken what ye mean.”
MacBlach eyed
him with contempt. “How many times has it been?”
“Ah’ll admit
ah havnae been a saint, but ah’ve changed ma ways an’ learned constraint.”
“Dinnae lie
tae me!” yelled MacBlach angrily. “Or ye’ll find yersel’ swingin’ fae a tree!”
“Laird
MacBlach, ah’m beggin’ ye, please!” bawled Deplorium and fell to his knees. “Ah
really dinnae ken what ye’re oan aboot!”
“Where’s the
loot?”
“It might
help if ye say who it belongs tae.”
“It belongs
tae me. Some o’ it wis recovered doon by the sea.”
“Then ah ken
yer man. It could only be Hamish MacCann.”
“Ye’re as
desperate as a condemned witch. Ye’d dae anythin’ tae save yer skin. Even
snitch.”
“Naw, ah
swear it’s true. Ah’d never dare lie tae you. The other night ah went for a
pail o’ ale an’ he told me that he had goods an’ tried tae make a sale.”
“That sounds
tae me like a very tall tale.”
“Ah ken
where he keeps his wares. At the back o’ the tavern at the top o’ the stairs.”
“Ah’ll send
ma men tae have a look. And if ye’re lyin’? It’ll no be the rope, ye’ll bloody
well cook!”
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