But Rafe was aware.
When James finally fell into an inebriated stupor, Rafe left the chamber in search of the eavesdropping young servant.
Something in her features suggested that she might have known something.
The kitchen was mostly dark at this hour, the only light coming from the wide-mouth hearth that was spitting smoke into the room. As Rafe entered, he spied a big man with a cap on his head bent over a table. Rafe could see that the man was counting money, more than likely the receipts of the day. Rafe moved silently, as he always did, until the man caught movement out of the corners of his eyes and looked up.
“Where did ye come from?” he asked, a mouthful of bad teeth reflecting in the firelight. “I dinna hear ye enter.”
Rafe smiled politely. “I did not mean to startle you,” he said. “Are you the proprietor?”
The man nodded. “I am Balthazar,” he said. “What can I do for ye?”
Rafe looked around the big kitchen to see if there was anyone else in the room that he had missed. “I’m looking for a woman,” he said. “She brought food and drink. She also brought…”
Balthazar cut him off. “Oh, her,” he said. “That’s my daughter, Carrie. She’s a good lass even if she is a wee bit talkative. Did she tell ye that she’s looking for a man tae take her tae London? If she did, then just know I willna let her go. She’s been looking for a man tae take her away since she sprouted tits. Eh… I probably shouldna have said that, but ye get my meaning. Ye canna have her.”
Rafe was looking at him with a bemused and slightly horrified expression. “I have not had any conversation at length with her,” he said hesitantly. “There was another lass with her. Brown-eyed and pretty.”
“Ah,” Balthazar said knowingly. “That’s Gaira. She’s a good lass. She’s not giddy like Carrie can be. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, that one. If ye think she looks different from the rest of the rabble here, she is.”
“What do you mean?”
Balthazar leaned back in his chair. “From nobility,” he said. “Comes from a family of mormaer.”
“Rulers?”
“Earldom,” Balthazar said. “Her grandfather was the Earl of Forth until the family fell out of favor and their lands taken. Gaira lives with her mother in a home on the edge of town. No menfolk, no armies. Just Gaira and her mother, who cleans chambers for me, although the woman is going tae need more help given the state of my establishment. It looks like we had our very own battle out there in the common room.”
Rafe nodded. “I saw,” he said. “And that happened only today?”
Balthazar shook his head. “Nay,” he said, dragging out the word. “Yesterday we had a war out there. Tore up the room and other chambers as well. We just started picking up the pieces until this happened today. I think I might leave it alone for a few days. Surely someone else is going tae come and try tae tear it up again.”
“Why would you say that?”
Balthazar sighed wearily. “’Tis the season for peace and madness,” he said. “It seems tae bring out the best and the worst in people. But this year, ’tis particularly bad.”
Rafe smiled faintly. “Because it is the first holiday season after the battle at Culloden,” he said. “I cannot imagine that those who experienced the battle as you did are finding much peace this season.”
Balthazar shook his head, sobering drastically. He suddenly appeared quite weary, as the mere memory was sucking everything out of him.
“It would take a few lifetimes tae overcome what we saw,” he said. “We nursed wounded, at least those who could make it here from the field of battle. By the time they reached us, some couldna be helped. Carrie even went tae the battlefield tae look for more wounded, but there were none left. So she collected what possessions she could find and brought them back here so the scavengers wouldna get them. People heard that she was collecting things and some brought her what they’d found.”
He trailed off, sadness in his tone, but Rafe was listening intently. “What did you do with all of it?” he asked.
Balthazar lifted a hand in the general direction of the rest of the tavern. “Put it away,” he said. “We have a whole chamber full of things from the battle. Someone tried tae destroy it, the same people who ruined the common room yesterday, but the chamber still stands. It still has things from the dead and as long as there is breath in my body, it’ll go untouched. Carrie calls it the Chamber of Sorrows. That’s what it is, ye know… a place full of sorrow. But it’s also a shrine tae the brave dead.”
Rafe turned his attention in the direction the old man had indicated. Chamber of Sorrows, he thought. A memorial to the dead of Culloden, preserved by an old tavernkeep and his daughter. Rafe thought that perhaps his new friend, James, might find something of his brother there, something from the man that had him so tormented.
But first, he had a woman to see.
“That was kind of you,” he said. “Gathering possessions that were important to someone, once. I should like to see them sometime if Carrie will show me, but Gaira… I wish to speak with her. Can you tell me where she is?”
Balthazar allowed himself to reflect on the horrors of Culloden’s aftermath for a moment longer before shaking himself, returning his focus to the question at hand.
“She’s gone home for the night,” he said. “But she just left. If ye hurry, ye might catch her. Her mother’s home is down the main road, at the end of town. Ye’ll see a two-storied, stone house with a walled yard. ’Tis where Gaira lives.”
Rafe thanked him swiftly and dashed out into the night.
The snow was falling lightly and it wasn’t difficult to see. Cottages along the avenue were lit from inside, just enough light to see by as Rafe made his way down the avenue, hoping to catch Gaira before she entered her mother’s home. But he had a feeling the conversation with Balthazar had cost him time.
Still, it was important he speak with her.
The house Balthazar described came up quickly. There was, indeed, a walled yard, but the wall wasn’t any taller than a man’s chest. He could see the two-storied home, simple and modest, and faint light emitted from a window on the ground floor. Entering the walled yard, and hoping there weren’t dogs to chase him off, he went to the heavily fortified entry door and rapped firmly upon it.
He could hear voices inside. Women’s voices.
He rapped again.
“I’ve come seeking Gaira,” he said loudly, hoping they could hear him. “I have no weapons and I mean you no harm. I’ve come from Balthazar’s. He told me where to find Gaira.”
More voices. After a moment, someone threw a bolt and the door creaked open. In the dim light beyond, he could see Gaira’s suspicious face. Once she got a look at him, however, recognition dawned.
“I know ye,” she said, opening the door a little wider. “I served ye food and drink.”
Rafe nodded. “You did,” he said. “May I come in, please? I’ll only stay a moment. I promise that I’ve not come to harm you. You can see that I have no weapons.”
He opened his cloak to show her that he had nothing visible. Gaira inspected him before glancing over her shoulder at something Rafe couldn’t see. After a moment, she returned her attention to Rafe and opened the door wider. As he stepped into the warm and stuffy chamber, he could see a woman in the corner with a big ax. Clearly, she was ready to use it if he made the wrong move.