Oatcakes and Courage Read Online Free

and shoulders, then went to the horse he had ridden and removed his saddle and bedroll from its steaming back.
    The rider turned to a man who followed him through the door. The other man’s back was bowed and his legs werebowed. He looked like he’d been in a saddle from the day he was born. The thin man said to him, “Rode him hard all night. He’ll need a good rubdown, rest and feed. I daresay he’ll be fine in a day or two. Where is this other horse?”
    The bowed man looked at the winded horse doubtfully. “Just around the back,” he said curtly. “I hope you don’t plan to use him as hard as you used this one.”
    â€œWith luck, I’ll find what I need with little need of more travel.”
    â€œSo, where are you headed, then?”
    The thin man looked down the lane, toward the loch. “As far as my nose takes me.”
    The bowed man grunted. He stumped forward, and taking the reins of the horse, coaxed it around toward the rear of the livery. He called over his shoulder, “Well, then, you can follow your nose this way to your other horse.”
    Ian chewed his bottom lip. He waited uncertainly. After a few more minutes, as he was thinking he would learn nothing useful and he might as well return to Anne, the rider appeared on his new horse. He glanced neither left nor right but trotted up the lane and out of the village.
    â€œAnd good riddance,” Ian muttered. He pushed his hat back on his head and hurried to find Anne. She stepped out from her hiding place to meet him.
    â€œGone?” she asked.
    â€œRode up and out of the village.”
    Anne nodded. “Should we go straight to the ship?”
    â€œAye.”
    The rocky beach was bustling with men laden with heavy bundles, calling to one another. A pair of oxen hauled a cart to the shingle while seagulls wheeled and squawked overhead. Anne inched closer to Ian and slipped her hand on his elbow.
    A short, slight, gray-haired man stood at the shoreline, playing the bagpipes. The melody blended so well with the gulls and the waves, it was truly a song of the sea. Ian stepped over to the piper.
    â€œYou are a bold man to be playing,” Ian said quietly.
    â€œIt’s what I do,” the man replied softly. “They will have to slit my throat to stop me.”
    Ian nodded. “I’m going on the Hector .” Anne squeezed his arm. “That is, my wife and I are going. Do you know who I report to?”
    â€œAye, laddie. The man you want to see is right over yonder.” The piper pointed to a tall man in a frock coat and tricorn hat. “That’s Master John Spiers. He’s the captain.”
    â€œThank you,” Ian said. He led Anne over to Master Spiers.
    The master was overseeing the unloading of supplies from the oxcart. He turned to Ian and Anne as they approached. Although Ian was a tall young man, the captain stood half a head above him.
    â€œG’day,” Ian began. “I’m Ian MacLeod. John Ross arranged passage for me on your vessel.”
    â€œYes? Good, good. I’ll have my mate, Master Orr, check the list.”
    â€œAh, there is one thing, though,” Ian stammered.
    â€œOh?” Master Spiers frowned. He obviously did not take kindly to surprises or complications.
    â€œWell, you see, since I spoke with Mr. Ross, I have… I got married.”
    â€œI see,” Master Spiers said. “And this is your wife, I presume?”
    â€œAye. Aye, this is Anne. Anne Grant… Anne MacLeod.”
    Master Spiers made a small bow to Anne, doffing his tricorn hat. “Mrs. MacLeod,” he said. Then he turned back to Ian. “Is your wife accompanying you on the voyage?”
    â€œOh, aye. I mean, that was what we planned. Is it…? It can be…?”
    â€œCan you make arrangements for her fare, Mr. MacLeod?”
    Ian hesitated only a moment before he said, “Aye, sir.”
    â€œWell, then. We should