Two Lackeys

After the rain came clear skies. The vault of heaven above Allen Island was a translucent blue, and the rising sun hung over the mountaintop east of Salt Beach on Holy Island, drawing the shadows of several thatched buildings at the foot of the mountain long and thin.

The little fishing boat had been dragged onto the shallows. Where the shoal stretched into the bay, the Cog, its sails lowered and anchor cast, rocked with the gentle waves beneath the morning sun.

Missing Tooth and Gambling Addict, changed into pirate armor, leaned lazily beside the door of a stone cottage with short spears in hand and short swords at their waists, serving as sentries. Baldhead and Ponytail stood silently in the open space outside the cottage, bows and crossbows in hand and longswords gripped tight, watching the two pirate captives.

Roger wore the linen robe with its skirt cut away, with only a wooden-handled hunting knife hanging at his waist. His arms folded, he quietly watched the old and young pair whose hands and feet were still bound with straw rope.

After several days of interrogation and inquiry, he had already grasped the origins and past experiences of the three captives before him.

Ponytail's judgment had been fairly sound. Though all three captives had mixed among pirates, they were not utterly depraved villains.

The old lackey had no name. Usually called Old Fisherman, he had originally been an honest, bankrupt fisherman from Allen Island. Forced by livelihood to join the pirates, he had never committed any great evil. He was also skilled at handling sails, and judging by that lean, wiry frame, he could still endure for several more years. He had some value.

The young lackey was an orphan from Argyll named Toke. The pirates all called him Little Lackey. His parents had died early, and he had been captured when pirates raided his village. He had followed the pirates for two years as a menial servant. By his own account, he had killed people too. He had a streak of clever ruthlessness, but in this man-eating world, he hardly seemed an evil man. He was the sort who could be kept or discarded without much difference.

These two lackeys were fairly easy to deal with. Roger walked up to Old Fisherman and spoke directly. "I can release you. If you have nowhere to go, you can stay and do some work for me."

Old Fisherman had already heard Ponytail say that they would be settled today. He had been worrying that Roger, the evil ghost, would kill him, but he had not expected Roger to set him free and even offer him a way to live.

"I am willing to stay and work for Young Master Roger." Old Fisherman did not hesitate. He had followed pirates for a mouthful of food; following Young Master Roger was likewise only for the sake of staying alive. What was the difference?

Roger nodded faintly. "Salt workers will come to the island today to boil salt. Stay here and work for now. You will not lack food. If you perform well, I have greater use for you."

After speaking, Roger ignored Old Fisherman's profuse thanks and walked over to the young lackey.

This young lackey had originally possessed some fierceness, but he had witnessed Roger's demon-like slaughter that night and watched up close the methods Roger used to torture fierce bandits. Thinking of the evil deeds he had usually heard attributed to Young Master Roger, the young lackey was only a half-grown youth after all. How could he not be afraid?

When his gaze met Roger's for an instant, he caught sight of the frightening scar on Roger's forehead and his narrow eyes. The young lackey immediately lowered his head.

"Young Master Roger, please show mercy. Let little Toke stay and do some work with me. He can cook, and he can learn to boil salt. He will be of some use if he stays." Before Roger could arrange for the young lackey, Old Fisherman hurriedly pleaded on his behalf.

He knew Roger was no kind soul. For someone like Little Lackey, who ate plenty and had little skill, Roger might well drag him away and finish him with one thrust.

He had been a minor figure who could be killed or spared. Roger had not intended to add to the slaughter, but since he had been a pirate and was certainly no decent citizen, Roger still had to ask, "I could have killed you, but Ponytail pleaded for you."

"Are you willing to stay and work for me?"

The young lackey turned to look at Old Fisherman. Old Fisherman hurriedly tugged at his tattered clothes, signaling him to agree.

"I—I am willing to be your servant." After saying that, the young lackey lowered his head again.

Apparently, the young lackey thought Roger wanted the two of them as slaves, but that was nothing unusual.

"Ponytail, untie them. Take them to prepare lunch for the salt workers."

With a smile, Ponytail drew his little pointed knife and cut through the straw ropes binding the old and young men. Speaking softly with them, he led the pair to the thatched cooking shed nearby.

Watching the two lackeys skillfully begin to light a fire and prepare food, Roger shifted his gaze to the stone cottage and entered with Baldhead.

Inside the stone cottage, Olaf's heart was tangled with conflict. Over these past few days, he and the two lackeys had been shut in the cottage like prisoners, yet Roger had not mistreated them. Their food and water had never run short, and he had even sent the three of them two roasted rabbit heads and a jar of beer.

The evil ghost known as Young Master Roger would occasionally come in as well, simply interrogating them and exchanging a few words.

All of this made Olaf feel that beneath Roger's evil-ghost swagger, there was also a quality that could neither be spoken of nor understood clearly.

Olaf was twenty-four years old. He had originally been the second son of a country gentleman near Glasgow. His family owned land and livestock and was relatively well-off. He had once served as a squire in a lord's household. Perhaps, if luck burst through the heavens in the future, he might have become an attendant or even a knight.

However, three years ago, on his wedding day, the English lord stationed locally had abducted his bride in the name of the right of the first night. Hot-blooded and young, Olaf had infiltrated the garrison fortress that very night and cut down that English lord in his bedchamber.

Such things were not rare across the enslaved land of Scotland, but those who truly dared to rise up and kill like that were few.

Yet Olaf, who had vented his fury for a moment, did not live freely afterward. Under the Englishmen's massive manhunt, he had no choice but to flee to foreign lands and drift about, barely surviving. Then he joined pirates—drifting, raiding, drifting again, raiding again. Having once served as a knight's squire, his fighting strength naturally surpassed that of bankrupt fishermen, so he soon became Ulf's third leader.

Olaf was not truly a pirate, and he despised Ulf and the others' indiscriminate slaughter of good and evil alike. Therefore, after Ulf was killed by Roger, he could not be said to feel much anger or hatred.

And through this period of contact, Roger had gradually come to understand the pirate Olaf.

Roger also held some goodwill toward Olaf. That roving knightly air suited his tastes, but this man had been a fierce bandit and possessed some ability, so Roger remained quite guarded against him.

Olaf's leg injury had already healed, though his complexion was still somewhat pale. He rose from a round wooden barrel used to hold salt, looked at Roger entering the room, and asked in a low voice, "How did you deal with those two?"

"I give them food, and they work for me," Roger answered simply, not treating Olaf like a captive or prisoner at all.

"Olaf, I'm afraid you can't stay on this comfortable little island. I must invite you back to the manor as a guest. I trust you have no objection."

"I am your captive. You could kill me if you wanted." Olaf did not care in the least.

Roger smiled without answering. He called Missing Tooth and Gambling Addict over from outside the door and signaled for them to take Olaf onto the fishing boat and return to Milkhouse Manor.

Missing Tooth and Gambling Addict accepted the order and were about to find rope to bind Olaf when Roger raised a hand to stop them. "I am inviting him to the manor as a guest. There is no need for that."

So the two men went behind Olaf, led him out of the stone cottage, and boarded the little fishing boat moored in the shallows.

At that moment, a lean, dry village headman led a dozen or so salt-boiling serfs and tenant farmers onto Salt Beach.

After giving the headman a few simple instructions, Roger took Baldhead and Ponytail to gather their things and jump aboard the fishing boat, rowing toward Milkhouse Manor.

Milkhouse Manor had no dedicated prison. Roger brought Olaf to a small granary beside a windmill in the manor and settled him there, had someone send over an old felt blanket, then ordered Baldhead, Ponytail, and the other two to guard him in shifts. Every day, they were to bring him out for air and to relieve himself, then collect food from the kitchen at the proper times and deliver it inside.

Roger gave Olaf some room to move around, making him half a free man.

Once everything was arranged, Roger changed into that flashy plaid pleated kilt and tartan cloak. With Bitter Melon Face, Little Horseherd, and his younger brother Louis, he set out on the road to Brodick Castle.

A funeral where he had no choice but to put on an act was still waiting for him...