Ladybird (Below the Salt #9)

Chapter 1

BLACKPOOL, ENGLAND, 1377

T hief-takers, or bounty hunters as they were sometimes called,weren’t openly welcome in most establishments. Actually, they weren’t welcome anywhere at all.

Hunter Chase’s paid profession of bringing in fugitives to whichever lord or noble paid him the most was looked down upon in this dirty, dingy tavern on the docks. The seedy hole-in-the-wall stank from old sweat and rough sex. The soiled rushes on the floor were caked with rotten food and sticky spittle, smelling worse than the piss-filled cells of the Shrewsbury dungeon where Hunter’s father had once been a guard. Rodents scurried over the patrons’ feet as well as across the warped and moldy drink board where the proprietor poured whisky and strong ale to men with tattered clothes and missing teeth.

Aye, even the walls seemed to move on their own with the amount of vermin that lodged there. Still, no one inside the tavern even seemed to notice its unpleasant state. The whores sidled up to the drinking men, straddling the laps of sailors. The working girls pressed up against the drunkards while the men eagerly hiked up the tarts’ skirts and fondled their nearly-naked breasts. Bawdy laughter emerged from one dark corner while a fight broke out in another. The sound of flesh smashing into flesh as well as tables overturning, rent the air. The proprietor shouted a string of curses, flinging a throwing knife through the air. The blade lodged into the wall just next to one of the offenders’ heads, nearly hitting the man. Hunter was sure blood would not only be spilled but be flowing like a river before this night was over.

No good ever came from a place like this. Hunter knew that better than anyone. The Thirsty Toad Tavern used to be where he spent more nights than he could count at one time. This rat’s nest was always filled to the brim with sinners, whores, murderers and thieves.

Just the type of place he was looking for.

Hunter took a swig of ale and gently placed his tankard down atop a layer of filth on the table, being careful not to breathe too hard so as not to take on a pestilence of any kind. He bit his lip and nodded. Yes, he decided. This place was perfect.

He nursed his drink in the dark corner, patiently waiting for his target to show. Hunter had spent the last few weeks tracking down three men who not only robbed a nobleman on the road but killed one of Lord Sheffield’s guards as well. Already, Hunter had managed to apprehend two of the three criminals who were now thankfully behind bars. But their leader, Guimart the Grim as the man was called, had been proving to be more than a challenge to catch. Tonight, however, Hunter’s job would be finished. He had tracked the man all the way from Sheffield to the docks of Blackpool.There was no doubt in Hunter’s mind that Guimart would end up here next. Especially on such a busy night. The man would want to unload the goods he’d stolen. And there was no better place to do it than amongst cutthroats and thieves.

All Hunter had to do was to clap the murderer in irons and send him back to Lord Sheffield where the thief would then be imprisoned and probably hanged. Hunter was so certain that Guimart would show up in this tavern tonight that he’d sent word to Lord Bohun in Sheffield days ago to meet him here. Two of Bohun’s guards arrived earlier and now sat at the next table under hooded cloaks as well. They drank and waited for Hunter to catch and hand over the fugitive to them.

With his head down and a tankard of ale clenched in his fist, Hunter tried to remain unnoticed. If this crowd realized a man of his profession was amongst them, they’d all hightail it out the door in the blink of an eye. Hunter needed to blend in with the patrons and at the same time keep his face and weapons hidden by his cloak so there was no chance he’d be identified. He’d spent the past few nights in here, and so far it hadn’t been a problem. Still, he couldn’t risk it much longer or someone would discover who he really was.

The Thirsty Toad wasn’t new surroundings to Hunter. Sadly, it had been where Hunter spent many of his nights at one time when he worked as a mercenary with his father. He had a dark past that he wasn’t proud of, and coming back here wasn’t easy for him. But times were different now, he reminded himself. He wasn’t a sword for hire anymore and didn’t need to kill on command. Most of his jobs being a thief-taker involved apprehending criminals, not killing them. He only killed in self-defense now, and only if he couldn’t help it.

Gone were the days of having to sell his soul to be able to feed himself. Once his father died, things had changed drastically for Hunter. Five years ago he took guardianship of his nephew, Luke, when his sister, Mary, died suddenly from a bad heart. With a child in tow, he gave up being a sword for hire. He wouldn’t raise this boy the way he’d grown up. No one needed that!

Hunter took up the job of thief-taker, being able to support them both. He was also able to take the boy with him wherever he went. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but it was better than being a mercenary. Plus, Hunter could keep the boy under his protection. He was doing his best to make a new life for himself and Luke. However, his thirteen-year-old nephew was quite a handful these days, and not at all easy to control. It worried Hunter that the boy might end up going down the wrong path in life.

A few more good-paying jobs like this, and hopefully Hunter’s troubles would be over. He planned to find a new home in a good town to live in where nobody knew them and where he could start over. Perhaps when he stopped traveling so much, he’d find a nice town-girl to marry and settle down with as well.

He looked up to see Luke leaning against the wall near the door with his arms crossed over his chest. The boy acted as Hunter’s lookout. Someone entered the establishment and Luke’s body stiffened. He stood up straight, cocking his head as he perused the ugly woman who’d stepped foot in the tavern. Luke motioned to Hunter and shrugged.

Hunter smiled and downed the last of his ale. His suspicions had just paid off. Since Guimart kept evading capture, Hunter realized the man must be traveling in disguise. The Thirsty Toad only attracted one type of female in this dump, and it wasn’t the ugly ones. It was the ones who came here to sell their bodies and make a quick fistful of money.

This was what he’d been waiting for and now all his efforts were about to pay off. Hunter looked over at the guards and held a finger aside his nose, giving them the signal to be ready but not to do a thing until he approached the man first. Scraping his feet slowly across the floor, Hunter prepared to stand.

Stroking the iron shackles hanging at his waist, he made sure they were still hidden by his cloak, and next to his sword that he usually wore on his back. He stood and sauntered over to the drink board where the ugly woman had already laid down a pouch. Soft whispers passed between the ugly woman and the proprietor as the guards stood and slowly followed Hunter across the room. Then the woman reached for the pouch to open it, but Hunter’s hand slammed down atop it, preventing any kind of exchange.

“What have you got here?” asked Hunter, his senses on full alert as he snapped up the pouch and took a quick peek inside it.

“Let go of my things,” came a deep growl. The woman looked up at him and when she did Hunter smiled at seeing stubble on her chin. Just as he thought. The she was a he after all.

“Well, Guimart, it seems your journey has come to an end.” Hunter slowly lowered his hood to reveal his identity, watching the man’s eyes open wide in fright. “You’re going to pay for stealing these goods as well as murdering an innocent man,” Hunter continued. “You’re going to prison and will probably end up on the gallows because of what you did.”

Guimart spun on his heel, racing for the door just like Hunter knew he would.

“Bad move,” mumbled Hunter, closing up the pouch of stolen coins and jewels and tossing it to one of Bohun’s guards. “Do it, Luke,” he called across the room, following the path of the fleeing man.

Luke slammed the door closed, unsheathing the sword that Hunter had given him for his last birthday. It had been Hunter’s father’s sword at one time. The boy held out the long blade with two hands, barely able to keep pointing the tip directly at Guimart because of the weight of the weapon and the boy’s lack of muscles. Still, his action and the size of the sword made an impact on the thief. Guimart stopped in his tracks and pulled a knife. Then he changed his mind and spun around and ran in the opposite direction, heading back toward Hunter.

Hunter was skilled in using just about any weapon and had his father to thank for that. However, in this situation he could see that the sword strapped to his side wouldn’t even be needed tonight. Nay, this would be even easier than he thought. He chuckled under his breath. No thief in a dress was going to be able to slip away from him.

Guimart was fast and slippery with his moves. But when he got close, Hunter’s fist shot out and smashed into the man’s jaw, knocking the thief to the floor.

“Enough of this,” grumbled Hunter. “I’ve got other vermin to catch.” When Guimart reached for Hunter’s legs to bring him down, Hunter stomped his boot down upon the man’s wrist, causing him to cry out. “If you think that hurts, wait until you see what Lord Bohun has in store for you in his dungeon.” Hunkering down, Hunter quickly flipped the man onto his stomach, pulling his arms behind him and clamping the iron shackles around his wrists.

“Leave me be! I didn’t do nothin,’” spat the man, fire burning in his dark angry eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” Hunter yanked the thief to his feet and kicked the man’s knife across the floor. “Does that pouch belong to Lord Bohun?” he asked the guards.

One of the guards opened the pouch and scooped out a few of the pieces of jewelry. “Aye, this is his wife’s necklace,” said the guard with a nod of his head. “It’s his all right. That is the thief we’ve been searching for.”

“Aye, you’ve caught our man, Thief-taker,” said the other. “Good job.”

Hunter handed Guimart over to the guards. One of them removed a small pouch of coins that was dangling from his belt and tossed it to Hunter.

“Here’s your fee,Thief-taker. Lord Bohun will be pleased with your work.” The guard was not able to look Hunter in the eye when he spoke. The second guard busied himself with the thief rather than paying any attention to Hunter. Odd indeed.

Hunter took a minute to open the payment pouch and quickly glance inside. Then he jostled the small leather bag up and down in his palm weighing it. “I might be overtired and hungrier than a bear at the moment, but I assure you that I am not the fool that you must think I am. It seems to me there are a few coins missing here, boys.”

Luke walked over to join him, having sheathed his sword. The boy stopped at Hunter’s side, picking up the thief’s knife from the floor and sticking it through his waist belt. Next, his eyes focused on the pouch in Hunter’s hand.

“That is your agreed upon fee. Lord Bohun gave it to us to give to you once you completed the task,” the guard said with a shrug. Everyone in the tavern became silent, waiting for another fight to break out.

“I see.” Hunter stared a hole through the first man and then the other, watching them become even more nervous under his perusal. Fine then,” said Hunter calmly and with a quick nod. The guards seemed to relax until they heard the rest of what Hunter had to say. “You know boys, I think I’ll travel back to Sheffield with you after all.”

“What? Why?” asked the guard who had given him the money. He fidgeted, not able to stand still or even look at Hunter.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Hunter. “Just to make certain the fugitive gets there safely, I guess. And, of course, to thank Lord Bohun personally for my bounty as well.” He jostled the pouch, making the coins clink together.

The guards exchanged worried glances with each other, seeming more than concerned now.

“Then again,” said Hunter, scratching the stubble on his chin and looking toward the door. “I happened to notice that you have an extra horse with you. My nephew could use a horse of his own since we only have the one between us.”

“We couldn’t do that,” grumbled the first guard.

“That’s right. It is for transporting the prisoner,” spat the guard holding on to Guimart.

“A true shame, isn’t it?” Hunter shook his head. “Because, now I guess you’ll have to ride double back to Sheffield, won’t you?”

“Ride double? Nay, we won’t do that,” snapped the same guard.

“Oh, I’m afraid you will,” Hunter answered with conviction. “Unless you want Lord Bohun to discover that you not only tried to cheat me by stealing part of my fee, but that in doing so, you have deceived him as well.”

“They’ll end up in the dungeon with the thief if Lord Bohun finds out,” said Luke.

“Yes, they will,” answered Hunter. “But only if they’re lucky enough to escape the noose.” Hunter shrugged and smiled again. “What will it be, boys?”

“Here,” spat the guard who had given him the bag, handing Hunter a few coins that he had pilfered for himself from Hunter’s pay and that he had kept hidden in his hand.

“That’s a start,” said Hunter, adding the coins to his money pouch and closing it up before tying the strings to his belt. “Luke, go ready your new mare. I’ll meet you outside in a minute and then we’ll leave.”

“I’m getting my own horse? Really? Yes!” said Luke, slapping his hands together in excitement and turning and running for the door.

“Nay!” protested the guard. “I gave you back your coins, now leave the damned horse alone.”

“Too late for that,” said Hunter, following Luke. He stopped at the door and turned back around. “Oh, and don’t even think of pilfering any of the goods I retrieved for Lord Sheffield because I looked inside the pouch and know exactly what is in there. I will be contacting Bohun in a few days’ time to thank him for the job. Therefore, you’d better make damned sure the prisoner gets to him along with all the stolen goods and in a timely manner.”

“What if the prisoner escapes us?” asked the guard holding the man.

“Aye,” said the other, catching on. “He’s a thief. He might just steal the lord’s jewels again and escape as well.”

“None of my concern if he does because I will be contacting Lord Bohun either way,” Hunter assured them. “And I warn you it’ll only work against you if Bohun discovers you lost the thief and his jewels, so I wouldn’t even consider trying it, boys.”

“It wouldn’t bode well for you either,” snapped the guard.

“Is that what you think?” Hunter chuckled. “If the thief does escape, Lord Bohun will just hire me again to track him down, and my coffers will be filled a second time, so it doesn’t matter to me. You see, I win either way. Now excuse me, because I need to help my nephew get situated with his new steed before we leave.”

Hunter walked out to find Luke already atop the horse and waiting for him.

“Hunter, I’m ready,” said Luke, calling him by his Christian name like he’d been doing more and more lately instead of calling him Uncle. “I can’t believe I finally have my own horse and that we won’t have to ride double anymore. This is great! I’m going to give her a strong name. Maybe I’ll call her Gertrod. Nay, I want to name her Zelma.”

“That’s nice,” mumbled Hunter mounting his horse, his mind on anything but naming a horse at the moment. He’d never even named his horse. He just called her Mare.

“You always said we couldn’t afford a second horse but now we have one just like magic.The best part is that we got her for free!”

“Aye, Luke. With two horses we’ll be able to travel and track much faster now. Therefore, we’ll be able to take on more work. With more work comes more money and hopefully a new home and a better life for us somewhere.” Hunter headed away with Luke keeping up at his side.

“Hunter, how did you know those guards were cheating you?” asked the boy. “I didn’t see you actually count the coins in the pouch. Did you?”

“Nay. I didn’t.”

“Then how did you know?”

“It was a risk I took and it worked in our favor.” Hunter continued to ride.

“What do you mean?” asked Luke. “Are you saying you were lying?”

“I was…bluffing.” Hunter didn’t like being called a liar, even though that is exactly what he was.

“We gained so much from just a little lie. You sure are good at lying.”

“A bluff,” Hunter said once again, feeling unsettled by the boy’s awe of his deplorable vice. “I was only bluffing, Luke.”

“What if you had been wrong?” Luke’s eyes opened wide. “What would those guards have done to you?”

“I wasn’t wrong so it doesn’t matter.” Hunter didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“But what if you were wrong? What if they hadn’t stolen part of your fee yet you accused them of doing so.” Luke continued bombarding him with his questions. “They could have killed you for that, right?”

“Nay, because I would never let that happen. Besides, I saw the way the guard couldn’t make eye contact with me when he handed me my bounty. That told me all I needed to know. Plus, they were both nervous and fidgety and that was after the criminal had already been apprehended. You need to watch people’s actions, Luke, to know what they are thinking. Actions always reveal the truth.”

“You knew they weren’t to be trusted and you were right.” Luke nodded, sounding impressed. “What about the pouch of stolen goods? Did you really know exactly what was in Lord Bohun’s pouch?”

“Nay. There was jewelry and coins in there but I have no idea as to how much,” Hunter admitted, already regretting his answer because Luke was smiling even more.

“You lied about that too! It sounded so real that even I believed you knew.”

“Bluff. I’ll tell you again, I was only bluffing,” Hunter said under his breath, realizing his nephew must think he was the biggest liar to walk the land. “However, those two men won’t try to steal any of Lord Bohun’s money or jewels now, nor will they let the prisoner escape before they return to Sheffield. I’ve seen to that.”

“How can you be sure? Is it because they’re afraid what you’ll say to Lord Bohun when you contact him in a few days?”

“Mmmph,” snorted Hunter, not wanting to admit that he had no plans of contacting Lord Bohun again. After all, he had his pay not to mention the man’s horse now. He didn’t want to give the steed back or for that matter be imprisoned for tricking the guards into letting him have the damned thing in the first place.

“I hope I grow up to be just like you someday,” beamed the boy with pride.

Hunter’s stomach soured at hearing this. The boy admiring him was pleasing but not for the reasons he did. “Luke, no matter if I contact Lord Sheffield or not, I had to put the fear of God in those guards, and I did. Do you understand? It was only to ensure our own well-being and safety and to seek retribution for Bohun. Plus, to make certain Guimart gets what he deserves and to make sure he doesn’t escape.”

“I understand,” Luke answered much too quickly. Hunter had hoped the boy would at least take a moment to think about what he said. “That thief got what he deserved, the guards got what they deserved, and we got what we deserved, too. We got a horse out of the deal! All because of you.”

“I’m not sure that you’re understanding what I mean, son.” Although Luke was only his nephew, over the past five years Hunter had started to think of him as his own son.

“I understand completely. We’re better at this lying game than they are, that’s all. Hunter, can you get me a crossbow and a new pair of boots next? Oh, I think I want a pet cat, too.”

“Nay. Nay, I can’t. You’re not old enough or strong enough to handle a crossbow. Besides, you have no need for one.”

“Why not? You gave me my own sword, even though I’ve never had a chance to kill anyone with it yet.” Luke unsheathed his sword and held it up proudly.

“That sword was my father’s and you need to respect it.”

“How many men do you think your father killed with this sword? I wonder how many I will kill with it someday.”

Hunter’s father was once a dungeon guard at Shrewsbury Castle in Shropshire. Hunter never even knew the man until one day when he was six, he found out. His mother brought him to the castle to tell his father that he existed. She was not married to the man and Hunter was naught but a bastard. Nothing ever came from the visit, nor did anything change at all. His mother was married to a different man at the time, with a daughter of their own who was Hunter’s older half-sister. Hunter’s stepfather never wanted someone else’s bastard son and treated Hunter poorly. His stepfather had moved them away from Shrewsbury all the way to Cornwall, probably trying to escape the fact he was raising a bastard whose own father didn’t even want him. By the time Hunter was thirteen, his stepfather had died and his mother then passed away shortly afterward. His older half-sister, Mary, quickly married to secure her future. That left Hunter alone to fend for himself at a young age.

All alone, he traveled back to Shrewsbury Castle to ask for his father’s help. The lord of Shrewsbury wouldn’t let Hunter’s father raise him inside castle walls, but did grant his father the right to build a cabin in his woods. His father, Robert, did so just to be with Hunter. The man turned mercenary in order to be able to support them both. He’d given Hunter his first sword and taught him to fight. Then he took Hunter on jobs with him every time he hired out his sword. They traveled a lot and were hardly ever home. It caused Hunter to grow up fast, seeing a different world than he was used to. It hardened Hunter’s heart and made him numb to people’s feelings or even to the quality of life. It came from having to learn at a young age to help his father kill on command.

“No, Luke. You are not going to kill anyone,” Hunter told his nephew. “That’s not the life you want to live, nor what I want for you. That sword I gave you is for your protection and to be used in self-defense only. And also to help scare away thieves,” snapped Hunter, not wanting the boy to end up following in his muddied footsteps.

“Well, what about my boots?” Luke picked up one foot and held it out as they rode. “I don’t like these and they’re getting small on me.”

“When we can afford it, I’ll buy you a new pair. For now, you’re fine.”

“Can’t I get some of those expensive cordovan leather boots like the rich nobles wear?” Luke wouldn’t shut up.

“Nay. Whatever for?”

“I dunno.” Luke swung his foot through the air as he rode. “To kick thieves when we capture them? I want to learn to punch and fight like you do, too. Can you teach me to smash my fist into a man’s face like you do to bring thieves to the ground?”

This conversation was getting worse by the minute. “There is nothing wrong with the boots you have,” answered Hunter, ignoring the part about Luke wanting to fight and kill. He probably should have taught the boy how to fight by now but had been hesitant to do so. Luke had just turned thirteen. A year ago he was naught but a child. Part of Hunter wanted Luke to keep that childlike innocence as long as possible. If it wasn’t already too late. The boy’s life was starting to become similar to the way Hunter had grown up, and no one should ever have to live like that!

“Then if I can’t get a crossbow or cordovan leather boots, how about a cat? Can I have a cat, Hunter? I’ve always wanted a black one so I could name her Inky. Isn’t that a mysterious name? Inky.” The boy’s words were laced with intrigue as he smiled and stared off at the sky as he daydreamed.

“We travel too often to have a pet, so the answer is no.”

“Pleeeease?” Luke was thirteen now but sometimes still acted like that eight-year-old that Hunter had first taken into his care.

“I said nay. Now don’t ask again.” This whole conversation was irritating Hunter and making his head hurt. All he longed for was a bit of peace and quiet.

“Well, why not?” the boy continued, not listening to Hunter’s warning in the least. “You are good at getting things for free so you could do it if you wanted to. I want to learn to do that too. Teach me to bluff like you do, Hunter. Then I’ll never have to work a day in my life and still have everything I’ve ever wanted.” The boy’s blue eyes lit up with excitement and it scared Hunter out of his mind. No thirteen-year-old should be so happy about the way they lived. It was not admirable at all to have to lie and basically steal just to get what they needed to survive.

Suddenly, Hunter felt no better than the thief he’d just apprehended. He thought he’d left that dark part of his past behind when he gave up being a mercenary. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Being a thief-taker wasn’t any better. So much for being a good influence on his nephew. Luke enjoyed getting things too easily, especially if it was by lying or cheating. That didn’t sit right with Hunter at all.

A deep stab twisted in Hunter’s gut and his head filled with that nagging, gnawing voice once again that he despised. It had been getting louder and louder through the years. At first he had ignored it but he couldn’t do that anymore. He tried his hardest to push the voice in his head away, but it taunted him and took control of his mind. This was the voice of his dear departed sister. She’d been talking to him from the grave.

Hunter, I don’t like the way you are raising my son. Luke is a good boy. You need to be a good example to him. What are you doing? What are you thinking?

“I’m doing the best I can,” he mumbled under his breath, not sure Mary could hear him since she was dead. Then again, he could hear her so it probably worked both ways, he imagined.

Why does Luke even have a sword? That is so dangerous. He’s too young to use it. And why are you taking him into places like that dirty disgusting tavern? With whores! He’s just a boy. You are a bad influence on my baby.

“Luke is not a baby and neither is he a boy anymore. He has been forced to grow up fast with no parents. He’s a young man now, Mary, even if you don’t think so.” Hunter spoke through gritted teeth, not liking to be controlled by a spirit from beyond. “Sister, I am trying my best to raise him. I am sorry if it isn’t good enough for you. Then again, nothing I ever did was good enough for you or even Mother, was it? You all listened to my stepfather too often when he spoke badly of me.”

“What did you say, Uncle Hunter?” Luke rode up next to him cocking his head and still smiling.

“Nothing, Luke. I was just thinking aloud, that’s all,” Hunter answered with a sigh.

Mary didn’t like this lifestyle for her son and Hunter couldn’t blame her in the least. He didn’t care for it either, but didn’t know how to change it. At least being a thief-taker was more honest of a living than being a mercenary or a damned thief. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Why couldn’t his sister understand that? Why wouldn’t her haunting voice in his head just go away and leave him be?

Please, Hunter. Try harder. Help my son to do the right things before he is led down the wrong path forever, like you. Before it is too late to turn back and he ends up paying with his life.

Hunter’s head pounded. All he wanted was to lay down and sleep for a week with a bottle of whisky gripped tightly in his fist. But he couldn’t. He was responsible for the boy and had to always be on the alert. Mayhap he was going about things all wrong or could do something better. He wasn’t sure anymore. But in his defense, he had never been a father before. He had no damned idea how to parent a child, let alone a restless youth who thought everything was naught but a fun game. He groaned inwardly. Why was everything in his life always so difficult? When would things start to get better? Now, in trying to help the boy and make him happy, Hunter had only gone and made the situation even worse.