He made his way through New Calton Burial ground, stopping only by the watch tower to take in the view below; the lights at the back of White Horse Close were burning, the lanterns were lit and the clouds were clearing. It would be cold tonight in Auld Reekie. As the mist started to form, he stole his way through the gravestones and down the steps, past the stables at White Horse Close and past the old coach inn. He stopped to draw breath; the town guard were sitting outside the gates of the palace but he would remain undetected. He darted back through the wrought iron gates and moved on, up towards the huge towering bridge over the Leith Wynd. Change of plan; he darted up Old Tolbooth Wynd, undetected and hawk like, he flew through the cobbled old street until he passed through the deep arch. He emerged on the Canongate, none the worse for wear. Someone, was on his side.


He looked up the Canongate, the old burgh covered with a thin veil of mist; from the looks of things it had already started to cloak Edinburgh up the hill and would be here soon. He paused, considered his options and waited, the feint smell of bread baking down on Bakehouse Close appealing to his senses, pangs of hunger kicking in. He would move on, pressing ever further, towards his goal. He would reach his destination and he would clear his name…