4. Scotland, 1534

After thirty years of contemplative life, facing the confusion of the dirty, busy streets of Edinburgh was a shock for Ewen Ban. A year ago, the Statutes of the Realm decreed by King Henry VIII had forced him to leave monastic life. This decree had disfranchised the monasteries, allowing the English sovereign to distribute their lands to his followers. Now in his early fifties, Ewen had lost his purpose in life. With the closure of Lindores Abbey, he had been thrown out onto the street, and it was for this reason that he found himself in the Scottish capital, searching for his salvation, or at least for a way to live out, with a clear conscience, the few years left to him in this world before moving on to his eternal life in the next.

“St Giles’ Cathedral?”

The passerby Ewen had just stopped looked him up and down with a scornful glance before pointing the way with a finger. “You’re already practically there.”

Ewen had barely understood what the gentleman had muttered to him before disappearing. He continued on his way, reassured that he had achieved his goal, at least his first one. To start with, he must pray. After that, he would seek out Iain Fearmòr’s blood brother. He had to at least try to keep the solemn oath made to his old teacher. Only then could he go back, with complete peace of mind, to the land of his childhood, to where he had lived before the monastery.

In front of St Giles’ Cathedral, a colourful mob of merchants boisterously hawked their wares.

“Drinkaqua vitae.”

This exhortation from one of the vendors attracted the ex-monk’s attention. The merchant, who was in fact a barber-surgeon, was catching fire about his goods.

“Moderately taken,aqua vitae slows ageing, fortifies youth, helps with digestion, lightens the mind, cheers the heart, heals strangulation; it keeps and preserves the head from whirling, the tongue from lisping, the guts from rumbling, and the bones from aching.”

Despite himself, Ewen stopped for a minute at the barber-surgeon’s stall as he continued proclaiming the virtues of his product.

“It can even perk up an old man like you.”

For a long moment, Ewen eyed the flasks ofaqua vitae under the vendor’s suspicious gaze. “May I have a sniff?” he asked.

The barber-surgeon uncorked a small flask and held it out to the former monk clad in simple peasants’ clothes. “All right. But it’s a penny for a taste.”

Ewen moved closer to the open flask. His nostrils covered the neck and breathed in noisily. This deep breath and the smell that came with it made his head spin, transported him to a world possessing its own distinctive flavours, aromas and murmurs that made it both spiritual and very carnal.

“So, old man, do you want a taste?”

The seller’s question pulled Ewen out of his pleasant daydream. D