The Legacy of Mount Drood

Chapter 10

Holding tight to Mary, William peeked inside the doorway of the place where all the noise was coming from. The room was filled with smoking candles stuck in mounds of wax on long tables filled with people. Large pitchers of mead were handed from person to person around the room, each drinking a mouthful and passing it on. As he looked, a large hand clamped on his shoulder dragging him inside the doorway and face to face with the ugliest man William had ever seen.

"Wot 'ave we 'ere then. Such a pretty lad." William jerked away, keeping Mary behind him.

"We- I'm looking for an inn or someplace to stay the night."

The man hooted loudly. "An inn! My, my, the young master wants an inn does 'e. I reckon you want nice white covers and a roarin' fire as well then."

William blushed, raising his chin. "Just a place to sleep, sir. Nothing as grand as you describe."

The man leaned closer, his foul breath pinching William's nose closed. "Wotcha got hidin' back there then?"

Mary let out a squeak and clutched the back of William's jacket. "If you can't help me, sir, I'll just thank you and be on my way." He half turned and pushed Mary toward the door.

"'Old on there my young buck." The large hand gripped his shoulder again and the shout drew the attention of many others in the room.

"Whose yer pretty friend, Bill?" Someone shouted and soon there were jeers and catcalls from all over. William doubted that good manners and a civil tongue would buy much respect in this place and he steeled himself for whatever might come, which didn't take long. The man reached past him, grasping Mary's hair, and as she screamed, William planted a solid fist alongside the man's nose, wincing as he heard the crunch and felt the spatter of warm blood on his cheek.

The crowed roared with laughter as the man called Bill staggered back bellowing in pain. Taking the opportunity, William pushed Mary out the door and the two of them raced down the street through the mud. When they reached a dark part of the street, William pulled her close to a rotting wall and peered carefully back down the road. On the porch of the drinking house, he could see the silhouette of the man called Bill, holding his face and staring up and down the black street.

"A very pretty exhibition, my young lad." The voice out of the darkness behind them made the pair jump, and William stepped forward, fists clenched. "Oh ho, don't be hitting out at me, I'm just an old man enjoying the entertainment."

William leaned forward, squinting to make out the features of the speaker. "Who are you? What manner of place is this that barricades its gates and permits no one in or out?"

"You really don't know where you are?" The old man moved out of the shadow and studied the pair. "Dear lad, you are in the Robber's Den!"

"The Ro- Robber's Den! I thought that was just a legend!"

A soft chuckle. "Well, let's just say it's legend-ary." He nodded at their reaction, waiting while they let the news sink in before speaking again. "You and your friend can sleep the night in here, it will be quite safe. And in the morning I will see you safely out of the village, before the gates open."

William looked at him with reserve. "Why would you offer to help us?"

"Anyone able to deliver a heap of hurt on Bully Bill deserves more than just help, he deserves a prize. Believe me, there is no one more worthy. You'll notice that no one jumped to defend him."

"I still don't see—"

"This is why." William gulped as the old man held up a stump of an arm. "Bully Bill didn't like the way I clapped at his jests. I would do anything to make his existence miserable."