Three hours past midnight, the streets of Edinburgh are all but deserted. The only ones about are those who don’t want to be seen on the streets in the light of day but instead chose to stay to the shadows, of the back alleys at night.
Not wanting tongues to wag, as to save the sensibilities of those in the castle that no not where their mate is, I don’t bother with a coach to bring me to a place I hate to venture to, or my men, that would cause suspicion, but I walk the distance from the Castle on the Rock and keep my sword in plain view, lest some unsavory cad think I am easy pickings.
