The Devil You Know

"Tell me."

Ian Fraser pulled her body closer to his own, the warmth giving him strength as he sighed, taking a deep breath. The story was a long one but he could not deny her and so he began.

*****

Many years ago when times were rough and common folk had to travel from place to place always searching for food to eat and a warm place to sleep, a young married couple arrived in a place called Copper Cove. It was a friendly place, filled with kind people and food was plentiful. But for the young couple it was only a temporary solution to a very large problem.

He had lost everything he owned in a fire and before that all the crops he had planted had died. Filled with despair, he turned to God, begging him for help but none arrived. Instead he took his pregnant wife and left his home, beginning a new life on the road. It was no place for a pregnant woman and the man hated himself for failing his wife but he did not know how to succeed.

When the couple reached the Cove, they happened upon the manor, the largest house of the area, which was owned by the man who owned almost everything of value within miles. His name was Colum McGregor. He wasn't known for being a friendly man but he was fair. His age was as unknown as he; he seemed to have been a fixture of the cove forever. And although he was not known as being an overly generous man, he treated his tenants well.

Hoping for a handout, the man went with hat in hand to the backdoor of the manor, begging the housekeeper who opened the door for a small meal, anything to fill the empty belly of his wife. The housekeeper had a large heart and seeing the pregnant woman so big with child she could barely stand was more than the older woman could take. Instead of feeding the couple, she invited them in, telling them they could sleep at the kitchen hearth that night and at least enjoy two warm, filling meals, supper and breakfast, under a roof before they had to go on their way.

The man was too jubilant over the offer to question whether the housekeeper who was obviously not the owner of such a large and well appointed estate had the right to offer them succor. He had stopped caring long ago thought about what was right and wrong. At this moment, his only concern was getting his wife and himself through another cold night.

When morning came and the fire having not only kept them warm all night but also having brought color back to their cheeks, the man was feeling more hopeful about their future until the lord of the manor strolled into the large kitchen. The husband was not worried about what would happen to him but he did worry for his wife and he stood quickly to greet the imposing man, his hand offered in friendship.

"I thank you kindly, Master McGregor, for allowing me wife and I to sleep this past night at your hearth. Your housekeeper was most kind to us," he told the man, taking in the fact that McGregor was a good head taller than him and while lean not overly thin from malnutrition like the husband.

"Aye, she is a good woman," McGregor remarked looking from the man then to the wife and back again. He did not seem upset about their being there but something was troubling him. "Where are you from, man, and where are you going with your wife in such a condition?"

"We're homeless, sir, we are going no where but wherever I can find a bit of work," the husband humbly replied, twisting his worn hat in his hands.

McGregor seemed to consider this reply for a few moments as he helped himself to a cup of steaming hot tea that the husband hadn't even realized had been made as he had been sleeping so soundly within the warm walls. After McGregor had drained the cup, leaving it upon the table, he turned to the man. "Come, let us go to the village," McGregor said to his guest, waiting for the man to bundle himself up. "Your wife can remain here for now."

The village was on the far side of the Cove if truth be told and the manor could be seen from the village proper especially at night with the place lit up like a castle. It was not a far walk but far enough when the husband was accustomed to the heat of the kitchen and had not received the promised breakfast. Still he would not complain for that would get him nothing at all. So he followed McGregor into the village over the worn path and up to the door of the town tavern. The husband thought it was a bit early for a drink but he was not about to question his host and thus when McGregor took a key from his pocket and used it to unlock the door, pushing it open, the husband realized a drink was not what they were here for.

It was obvious the place had not been opened in awhile as dust coated every surface and darkness seemed to know the place well. The shutters over the windows were tightly closed and the few bottles left on the shelf behind the bar were untouched for quite some time, also coated in a thick layer of dust. The husband wondered why McGregor had brought him here as obviously there was no one to serve them a drink. And besides he was not much of a drinker himself.

"I own this place as I own most of the village," McGregor began, taking a seat at one of the tables. The place was not large but ample enough with a bar, a half a dozen tables and stairs on the back wall that obviously led up to rooms above. "The manager left my employ some months back and none have come looking to replace him. How about I let you have the place as your own?"

The husband was dumbstruck. Why would the landowner give away such a property? He figured he had heard wrong and lifted up his face to look at the man. "You mean have me run the place for you, Sir?"

"No, I mean to give it to you outright," McGregor responded. "There is still stock in the backroom you will discover and quarters for you and your wife above stairs."

The husband ran a hand through his hair, not entirely sure what he should say to such an offer. "And why would you do that, Sir, being you don't even know me? What is the catch?"

McGregor laughed. "Well you certainly aren't daft. Yes there is a catch. The tavern will be yours to run as you choose. You may keep all your profits. You and your family may live here all of your days. I only ask one thing in return."

The husband waited patiently for McGregor to state his terms. It seemed McGregor was not keen to do so or perhaps he wanted the husband to think about the terrible state of his life and be desperate enough to accept McGregor's terms no matter what they were. Either way, the husband finally sucked in his breath, stiffening himself for the blow as he broke the quiet by asking, "And what would that be, Sir?"

McGregor grinned actually, drumming his fingers on the dust covered table as he turned and gazed at the husband. "I want the child your wife is carrying."

"What?" the husband proclaimed, standing so abruptly the chair he had been sitting in fell back with a hollow sound against the hard wood floor. "Are you mad?"

McGregor laughed at this. "Please, what do you take me for? It is not for nefarious means. I merely ask that your eldest child come to the manor to work in my employ when he or she reaches the age of 18. I don't think that is too much to ask, do you?"

The husband considered this carefully. No, it really wasn't since McGregor was not only offering a livelihood to him but also to his child. Still, the entire deal seemed odd and the husband knew there had to be something more to it. And yet, he and his wife had no place to go, no means of employment and no reason not to accept his offer. "Nay, I suppose not."

Thus the agreement was met. After contracts were drawn and signatures affixed to them, the husband and his pregnant wife set up house in the tavern. She was never apprised of the circumstances of their new good fortune and he did not intend to share it with her.

As time passed, the child was born. It was a girl they named Cecilia. She had red curly hair and green eyes the color of the grass that grew outside their back door. The husband and his wife doted on the girl and took great pride in her beauty. They had other children over the years, two boys and another girl, but their eldest always held a special place in their hearts.

As she grew older, she helped her father in the tavern quite regularly, serving the customers their ale. She was a popular fixture in the village with her sweet smile and soft lyrical laugh. She was well liked by the people of the cove and no one but her father knew about the deal where she would go to work for McGregor upon her 18th birthday.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years and even the husband forgot about the pact he had made with McGregor until that night.

Cecilia had been 18 for months now. In honesty, she was almost 19. And her father had forgotten. He had put it completely from his mind.

One cold October night as they were closing up the tavern after a long day, he was tidying up the bar as Cecilia wiped down the tables. They were the only two in the tavern when the door burst open almost as if a wind had kicked it.

"We're closed," the husband grunted without even looking up but then he did and saw it was McGregor. He had seen the man occasionally over the years, they did live in the same town, but they had never been friendly. The look in McGregor's eyes made the tavern keeper swallow even though he had nothing in his mouth.

"Not for me," McGregor stated as he stepped inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He stripped off his black leather gloves and laid them upon the table, his eyes shifting from the tavern keeper to his daughter and back again. "You know why I am here, old man. It is time to collect my payment."

The tavern keeper had to think for a moment to grasp the meaning of what had been said then finally with a sigh he said, "I see. I had forgotten."

McGregor laughed at this. It was not a pleasant laugh by any means. "I noticed. Now I will take the girl." McGregor eyed the young woman, taking in the paleness of her skin, the soft red curls that framed her face, the sweet depths of her green eyes. He liked what he saw. He liked it very much indeed.

"What?" Cecilia said, startled, knowing she was the only girl in the room.

Her father felt defeated. He had never been a strong man to begin with and now it felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. "He's giving you a job, girl. You are to go with him."

"I don't wish it," the girl protested, happy with the job she currently had, helping her father in the tavern. A frown crossed her lovely face, a line creasing her brow as she looked from her father to the stranger.

"You don't have a choice, your father traded you to me in exchange for this place," McGregor told her.

"Da?" the girl whimpered loudly. "Is that true, da?"

Her father grunted. It was a contract after all and he was a man of his word. "It's true, girl. Go get your things. You better go with him."

"She won't need her things. She won't need anything. You never asked me what her job with me would be. Thankfully she is female although I would have kept your son as well. She won't need a thing because she will be my whore." McGregor took great satisfaction in saying that, watching the tavern keeper's face fall. Then he opened the door and two of his men entered, crossing in front of the petrified tavern owner to pick up the girl, now hysterically crying. Her cries filled the room and the sound of frantic footfalls could be heard above them in response. The two men took her outside, depositing her inside McGregor's coach. McGregor picked up his gloves then, slipping them on but as he moved to leave he turned to the husband, "A pleasure doing business, Sir." Then he was gone.

The tavern keeper never saw his daughter again. He heard tales of the things that were done to her but never did his eyes set sight upon her person. His wife became despondent then desperate then depressed before finally shutting down completely. He tried to carry on, keeping the tavern open, but always his thoughts were of Cecilia and McGregor. Some nights you could hear what sounded like a woman wailing across the water of the cove but most people thought it was merely the wind.

*****

"Tell me where she is, Ian. Tell me."

And so it began. Again.