Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] (19 page)

They could easily hear the rushing water, though, so when Amalie finally spoke, she had to raise her voice for Meg to hear her. “I don’t know exactly why I don’t want to go,” she said. “I fear it may still be a matter of envying Jenny her happiness, but that just seems mean. Sithee, I don’t dislike her. I . . . I just . . .”

She paused with a sob, and only then did Meg see the tears in her eyes.

“What is it, love?” she said gently.

“What if . . . ? Oh, Meggie, what if I’m with child?”

“Sakes, are you?”

“I don’t know!”

The wail of words ended in a screech as a dozen men erupted from the woods. Several grabbed their horses’ bridles, while others confronted their escort.

Although the villains were afoot, many had weapons drawn, ranging from clubs and short lances to maces and swords.

Chapter 13

But peace on the border, that thinned his keyloes, And want for his lads was the warst thing of a’.

H
earing commotion behind her, Meg turned to see that the men in her tail had drawn swords. Sym, poised to ride to her rescue, held a dirk in his hand.

“Tell them to stay where they be and sheathe their weapons, me lady,” the man on her right, holding the bridle, said crisply. “Me lads mean ye nae harm.”

Fearing that he and his men might do anything to protect themselves, and conscious of Amalie’s white face and shaking hands, Meg held up a hand to keep her men where they were. “Just what
do
you mean if not to harm us?” she asked.

“By me troth, me lady, we’ve the Douglas’s permission to hunt here and gather fuel. Me lads be stalking a deer just ahead, so ye’ll no want to interfere. But I feared a misunderstanding did we no stop ye here. Sithee, I didna want anyone hurt through some hasty action. Now, tell them lads o’ yours to put up their swords.”

Despite his obsequious tone, Meg sensed the menace of fear in him and forced herself to remain calm. “I think there must be some misunderstanding already,” she said. “You are on land privately held by the Laird of Buccleuch.” Since she was not sure they were still on Scott land, she added, “Also, he is Ranger of Ettrick Forest, charged with its protection. He’d want to see any permit you have from the Douglas.”

“Och, but we met Buccleuch only days ago,” he said. “I warrant ye must be his lady daughters, the pair o’ ye, so I’m amazed he didna warn ye we might be here, nor tell your fine escort. But I did hear he were away, so likely, he forgot.”

“I am his good-daughter,” Meg said. She felt certain that both Wat and his father would have let everyone at Raven’s Law know of any such permission from Douglas. She was just as sure they were the raiders who had been plaguing the area. Since pointing that out would do nothing to defuse the situation, she added, “My husband is likewise away. Doubtless, that is why no one told me about you.”

Amalie stiffened beside her, clearly more alarmed than ever.

The leader glanced at her, then back at Meg, who returned his gaze coolly.

“Sithee, we take only what our families need for cooking and to eat. Ye’ll ken fine the great destruction the English caused when they came three years ago. Even now when Douglas leads a foray into England, Hotspur or one o’ his English ilk retaliates by trampling Scottish fields and stealing our beasts. Our families go hungry unless we can find food.”

“Have you food now?” Meg asked.

“Some but not enough,” he said with a wry smile. “Sithee, ’twas the roe we were stalking that warned us o’ your approach when it darted off.”

“Then perhaps you will accept my invitation to take supper with us at Raven’s Law,” she said. Ignoring a squeak of protest from Amalie, she hoped her sister would say naught to destroy the tenuous cordiality she sought to promote.

The man hesitated.

Aware that Amalie was staring at her as if she must be demented, Meg said, “We have plenty of food to share unless your band is much larger than it appears.”

“There be two dozen of us,” he said, eyeing her speculatively.

Whether that look stemmed from doubt of her sincerity or a notion that twenty-four men might easily take two young women and one peel tower hostage to gain their ends, Meg could not be sure.

Nor did it matter. If they were hungry and needed to feed their families, she would help them. If they were villains, they were villains. But in either event, she and Amalie would be safer at home, and she hoped to take at least one precaution.

“I have my page with me,” she said. “He is the lad yonder with my men. If you will let me summon him, I’ll have him ride ahead to warn my cook that our numbers have increased, so he can begin at once to prepare more food. Otherwise, I fear it will be very late before we get our supper.”

The leader peered at Sym, then nodded. “Aye, ye may call him, but tell him he should no glower at his betters. Tell him, too, that your safety depends on his doing exactly what you say he must do and no more, me lady. If I find that aught other than food and a warm welcome awaits us at Raven’s Law, I’ll be gey angry.”

Nodding, Meg turned and shouted, “Sym, to me! The rest of you, stay where you are and put up your weapons.”

Sym kicked his pony and rode to her. “Aye, m’lady?”

“I want you to ride as fast as you can to warn Master Wat, my cook, that we will have guests for dinner. Two dozen of them, tell him.”

“Aye, m’lady.” Sym’s gaze locked with hers. “Do ye mean this lot here be going to sup wi’ the rest of us?”

“Mind your manners, laddie,” the leader said sharply.

Sym looked at him. “Aye, sure,” he said. “I were just a-wondering is all.”

“I do mean these men,” Meg said. “So, take care that you get my message to Master Wat. And understand me, Sym,” she added, holding his gaze. “If food is not ready for these men soon after we arrive, tempers may stir, including my own. So you make sure that our cook knows he must provide a fine supper for my guests.”

His eyes narrowed, making her hope it was a look of comprehension, not confusion. But at last, he nodded and said, “I’ll take the message, aye. And I’ll see to it that the fool cook don’t do nowt but what ye ask o’ him.”

Reassured, she said, “Go quickly then. It takes time to prepare for so many.”

Nodding again, he turned his pony without another word and kicked it hard, riding past the mounted men-at-arms without pausing.

“He seems a good, steady lad, that one,” the leader said.

“Aye, he is,” Meg said, devoutly hoping the boy could do as she had asked.

“We’ve wood still to load in our carts, and a few chickens as were running free,” the leader said. “We doubt anyone will miss them, being wild and all.”

“Take whatever time you need,” Meg said sincerely. “We need not hurry.”

“Are you mad?” Amalie muttered in a fierce undertone when the leader walked away and the men holding their horses moved closer to their escort. “What demon possessed you to invite those dreadful men back to Raven’s Law with us?”

“If they are telling the truth, I think Walter will help them,” Meg said, keeping a close eye on the retreating leader and hoping the noise of the rushing burn would keep him and the other men from hearing their quiet conversation.

“What if they are
not
telling the truth? Do you mean to hand over Raven’s Law to them after your poor cook has fed them all supper?”

“You have not spent much time in the kitchens,” Meg said.

“You did not ask that of me. Why mention it now?”

“Because our cook’s name is Jed Crosier,” Meg said. “And surely you do know that ‘Master Wat’ is what Sym calls Walter.”

“Faith, that did not even enter my head. Is Walter not still at Hermitage?”

“He did hope to return tonight,” Meg said. “If he does, he may take supper at the Hall before riding home, but Sym will find him, wherever he is. I hope he also understood that we need him to get word to the cook.”

“Sakes, why?”

“Because if we arrive to find food preparation in hand, no one will take note of Sym’s absence. But if we find no food and no Sym . . . Hush now, that man is coming back,” she added, seeing the leader re-emerge from the trees.

It took his companions another half-hour to load their gleanings into their carts and onto their ponies. When they were ready, Meg thought they made a strange party. But the carts slowed them nicely as they wended their way back to the Clearburn and followed the smaller burn up Buck Cleuch to the peel tower.

“Our men are muttering amongst themselves,” Amalie said.

“I hear them,” Meg said. She looked back at the six with a frown.

“Doubtless they think they could have overcome these men.”

“I am not sure they could have. The raiders outnumber them four to one. In any event, both sides would have suffered losses, so I thought it best to act as we would at home and not seem to take sides. Surely, it is wiser to find out why the raids are occurring than just to cut these men down with swords or hang them all.”

“Perhaps. But what if Walter disagrees?”

Meg knew Walter would disagree. He would be angry that she had not taken a large enough escort to defeat any threat. But to have done so would have meant taking most of the guards he had left with her at Raven’s Law, thus putting the tower at risk. That thought told her that her first assessment had been wrong.

He would be furious that she had ridden to the Hall at all.

But she had, and she could do nothing to change that.

She could only hope to control the present situation enough to keep them all from ending up as hostages. Accordingly, when they rode into the yard at Raven’s Law, she briskly ordered the captain of her escort to see to the horses.

Then she asked two of the other men to see to their guests’ needs.

“Pray show them where they may refresh themselves. Then show them into the hall,” she said as another member of her escort helped her dismount. Shaking out her skirts, she added, “I will go to the kitchen and see that all is in train there.”

“Ye’ll no mind then an a few of us come along wi’ ye, me lady, to see that all is well wi’ your cook,” the leader said.

She had expected as much and had hoped that dividing the enemy might make them less dangerous. Even so, she struggled to maintain her calm as she said, “You should come with me, too, Amalie.”

“Och, aye,” the leader said with a disturbing smile. “She should.”

Entering the kitchen with increasing trepidation, Meg was relieved to see kitchen maids and gillies hurriedly plucking chickens and game birds for the spits.

“It may be another hour yet, m’lady,” the cook said as he greeted her. “We began as soon as I got your message, so we’ll still ha’ supper on the tables nobbut a half hour or so past the usual time.”

“Thank you for acting so quickly,” she said, meeting his steady gaze.

“I thank ye, too, Master Wat,” the leader said, putting out a hand. “Smells right good in here. Me mouth already be watering.”

Meg held her breath.

Without a blink her cook said, “I hope ye’ll enjoy your supper, sir.”

“Meantime, send ale and bread to the hall to stave off their hunger,” Meg said. Turning to the leader, she said, “Now, if we have persuaded you that we can feed you all, pray let me take you to the hall and see you settled with your men.”

For a wonder, he complied, so Meg led the way to the hall, noting with satisfaction that the first thing he did there was fix his gaze on the chimney wall.

Walter’s men had taken many of the weapons that had hung there, but a respectable assortment remained. Bare hooks revealed how many were missing.

The leader was not the only one staring. Every man with him stared or pretended not to stare while shooting frequent glances at the wall.

“A fine display,” the leader said.

“Aye, it is,” she agreed. “Pray, what should I call you, sir?”

“Me lads call me Neb.”

“Is that what I should call you, or have you a surname?” Most people in the Borders did not. But most willingly named their home and kindred.

However, he said, “Nay, now, that would be telling. Neb will do.”

“Then will you join my sister and me at the high table, Neb?”

His look this time was pure astonishment. “Nay, me lady, ye dinna want a man o’ my ilk on yon dais. ’Tis no fitting.”

“What is fitting is for me to decide, sir. As leader of these men, you are our chief guest and should be on the dais. First, however, if you will excuse us, my sister and I would like to refresh ourselves. Doubtless, you want to do so as well, so I shall ask one of the gillies to show you where the garderobe is. He can also pour you some ale or wine when you are ready for it.”

“The ale will be welcome, but I canna agree that both you and the other lass should leave together, me lady. Forgive me suspicious nature, but I’d feel better an only one o’ ye left at a time.”

“Very well, but only if you keep your men here with you,” Meg said. “I do not want to worry about her being alone upstairs or when I am not here with her.”

“Ye have me word that none o’ me lads will harm either o’ ye.”

With that Meg had to be satisfied, but when Amalie volunteered to go first, she was grateful. She’d have worried about whether she had been right to trust him if she had gone and left Amalie alone with him and his men. As it was, Meg went to the dais and ordered his ale while a gillie showed him to the garderobe.

His men had taken seats at the trestle tables and seemed content for the moment with bread and ale. One produced a battered lute and began to pluck its strings, while another began softly to sing a ballad. By the time Amalie returned and Meg had hurried through her own ablutions, they were all singing lustily.

But for Neb’s sword lying ready to hand and his men having likewise kept their weapons, she thought anyone might mistake them for a feast day gathering.

Wat, Buccleuch, and their tail had reached the east bank of the Rankilburn where it flowed around Kirk Hill, just over two miles south of the Hall, when Wat saw a small rider approaching them at speed from around the next bend.

“That looks like Sym,” he said to his father.

“What the devil is he doing out here?”

“It can’t be good news,” Wat said, spurring his horse forward.

“Master Wat, raiders!” Sym shouted, bringing his horse to a plunging halt and grabbing its mane to keep from flying off. “They’re wi’ me lady at the tower!”

A freezing chill swept through Wat. Waving Buccleuch to a faster pace, he said, “How the devil did they get into the tower?”

“They didna. We’d been to the Hall, sithee, and were returning, but—”

“Who went to the Hall with you?”

“The lady Amalie, aye, and six o’ our lads, but them poachers . . . There be two dozen o’ them, so me lady told our lads to put up their swords.”

As Buccleuch reined in beside him, Wat said, “The forest raiders stopped Meg and Amalie as they were returning from the Hall. What happened then, Sym?”

Sym hesitated, looking wary, then said in a rush, “Me lady took ’em home to supper. She said I should ride ahead and tell the cook she were bringing guests.”