The profits were becoming singularly dangerous. The law governing the clans was harsh. No highlander could purchase a Varlish business, or acquire land of more than two acres. No highlander could own a horse above fourteen and a half hands, and only then if it was a gelding. No highlander could lodge coin with a bank, or borrow moneys above five chaillings. Any highlander found in possession of a sword, longbow, gun, or horse above fourteen and a half hands or virile, would be judged a rebel and hanged.
Despite the fact that Maev had broken no laws she knew that this would prove no defence. It was the spirit of the law that counted. Successful highlanders were perceived as a threat to the governing order, and were dealt with one way or another. Then why go on getting richer and richer, she asked herself ? It was not the first time the question had come to her. Maev had thought about the problem often. It was not the money. Heaven knew there was little enough that a highland woman could spend it on. No, as she had explained to Jaim, it was the challenge.
He hadn’t understood. ‘We were out walking last week,’ she said. ‘We passed a section of wall that had tumbled. You stopped and spent an hour restacking the stones.’
‘The cattle would have wandered,’ he said.
‘Aye, they would, Grymauch – but they were not your cattle. It was not your wall. That’s how it is for me. I see the potential in a business, and it irks me when it is not realized.’
‘Is it worth risking your life for?’
‘No, it is not,’ she agreed. ‘I cannot explain it – even to myself. It is my talent, and I feel obliged to use it. I keep telling myself I will draw back and stop one day. Yet I don’t.’
Maev moved through to the long kitchen. Shula was kneading dough at the wooden worktop. The shy Varlish woman had proved a boon around the house, although Maev had made it clear to her that she was welcome to stay as a guest. Instead Shula worked like a servant, constantly at some labour or other, cleaning, dusting, washing blankets and sheets, mending Kaelin’s clothes.
Maev climbed the stairs and entered the west-facing bedroom used by Jaim Grymauch. He was still asleep. Maev sat down upon. the bed and nudged him. He groaned and rolled over, but did not wake. Maev caught the smell of ale on his breath.
‘Wake up, you ox,’ she said, shaking his shoulder. Jaim’s one good eye opened. It was bloodshot.
‘What is it?’ he mumbled.
‘I need to know what happened with Chain Shada. Kaelin came back and would say nothing. Now he and Banny are off in the hills. And you – you drunkard – did not stagger in until dawn. Well the sun has been up for five hours now, and no self-respecting man would still be sleeping.’
‘Give me a few minutes to find my brain, woman.’
‘By heaven, Grymauch, you’d need ten expert trackers and a wizard to find such a mythical beast. I’ll be downstairs. Get yourself dressed and join me there.’
‘A cooked breakfast would be nice. Bacon, eggs, a steak and some mushrooms.’
‘Such a breakfast is for working folk who rise early. I’ll slice you. some bread and cheese.’ Maev rose and glanced at the clothes so carelessly slung on the floor. She hefted Jaim’s cloak, which was still damp, and sniffed it. ‘Did you fall in the river?’
‘I didn’t fall. I swam.’ Grymauch threw back the covers and swung his legs from the bed.
‘You vile man!’ she said. ‘How dare you show your nakedness to me?’
‘You told me to get dressed!’
‘When I’m gone, man.’ Maev flung the cloak aside and stalked from the room. Only when she reached the stairs did she allow herself to smile. She wondered what the difference would be between having Jaim Grymauch or a pet bear living with her.
Her good mood lasted only as long as it took Jaim to dress, eat his bread and cheese and to tell her of the events of the night before. ‘You didn’t kill them?’ she said, astonished.