Read Online The Runaway's Gold by Emilie Burack - Free Book Online

morning.
    â€œShe was protecting me family,” I said, pulling free me arm and starting back to the path. “Seeing to it we had enough to eat! There’s nothing un-Godly about that.”
    He stared at me and shook his head. “Your temper gets the better of you, Christopher Robertson. Now, before you take your leave, I’ll need to know where it is you are going.”
    I hesitated, turning to catch his eye and wondering which would send me first to the land of Satan—lying to Reverend Sill or killing Mr. Peterson’s ewe. “To Lerwick,” I muttered, knowing full well I could outrun him if he came after me. “On an errand for the family.”
    The ancient man cocked his head, making a strange clicking noise with his tongue as he pondered me answer. “Most go by boat, round the heads,” he said, referring to Fitful Head and Sumburgh Head, the southern points of the island. Then he rubbed his shoulders as he studied me through the thick white eyebrows that climbed wildly in all directions and snagged his eyelashes when he blinked. “They say it’s fastest.”
    â€œAye.” I nodded, thinking quickly. “But me Gutcher’s fourareen’s in need of repair. So they’ve sent me by land.”
    He paused a moment, then cleared his throat again. “I, too, am headed to Lerwick.”
    â€œSurely
you
are not traveling all that way by land?”
    â€œAh, but the Lord leaves me no choice,” he nearly shouted, face once again turning crimson. “Lad, have you not heard of my recent trip home from Edinburgh?”
    â€œNo, sir.” I sighed, looking longingly back to the pathand knowing full well his habit for long-winded responses. I was running out of time if I was ever to catch John before he boarded a ship for America, and by now Knut Blackbeard was surely on me trail.
    The old man hammered his driftwood stauf into the ground. Then he stretched his arms wide to either side of his frail, cloaked frame, as I had seen him do so many times from the pulpit. “Just before Advent I crossed back from the Mainland, having, at eighty-four years of age, fulfilled my duties to the General Assembly of the Kirk in Edinburgh. Alas, the journey was on a ship full of sinful mariners and a captain whose language was so blasphemous that the Lord set about to teach them a lesson. We were but one day at sea when we were caught in crosswinds so wicked we were tossed about for three days, nearly to Foula Isle! I alone kneeled and prayed for redemption below deck, while four of those foul-languaged men were washed overboard! As the others grew close to despair and turned to me for solace, I reminded them that a man has no true loss until he loses his soul, and for that alone there is no reparation. That night God’s will shook a rod over their heads and showed them his might!”
    â€œAye,” I said, impatiently tapping me foot. Then I glanced nervously back down the path for signs of Knut. “You made it home. Soli Deo Gloria. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a bit pressed for time.” But as I turned back to the path, it was as if I hadn’t spoken.
    â€œAye indeed!” Reverend Sill continued, his voice raised anoctave, as if to emphasize the importance of what was to follow. “We anchored safely in Lerwick the very next day, Sola Fide! And when I touched land and kissed the beloved ground, I vowed never to step foot on another ship.” Then he paused to massage his lower back and left buttock and glanced at his kishie. “I am expected in Lerwick by tomorrow for the monthly meeting of the Kirk elders. While I’m there, I intend to give charges of theft and blasphemy against Murdoch Bairnstrom, my patron Lord Cummingsburgh’s agent. Instead of paying me his agreed-upon stipend, he has been seen in Lerwick spending the rents of his Lordship, carousing in the streets, and speaking foul language! This at a time