Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] (32 page)

The castle’s vantage point on the rise gave it a view of much of Liddesdale as well as the opening of its own small glen, so Wat was sure the watchers inside had seen the herd despite trees lining both sides of the river. But none inside would think the herd formed any sort of a threat. Nor did it, he thought with a smile.

No one was coming to greet them, so Sir Ralph either was expecting Murray or knew of the wardens’ order to produce Wat’s cattle and horses and Meg’s dowry, and was unsurprised to see him at Hermitage—or whoever controlled the castle in Lindsay’s place knew that Murray presented no threat to him.

Wat bided his time but kept as near as he dared to Sir Iagan, who rode right to the main entrance steps and looked up at the guards on the portcullis parapet.

None flanked the main entrance today. Both portcullises were down.

“Where’s the captain o’ your guard?” Murray shouted. “I ha’ kine to deliver, by order o’ the march wardens and the Douglas himself.”

Wat noted, somewhat to his own amusement, that the noisy cattle were already making their presence felt. Their constant lowing made it difficult to hear what the guard on the parapet was shouting back at Murray.

Men had camped in the area between the castle and the chapel, and on the hillside above the latter, and the cattle, uncaring of property rights or even water-filled ditches, were milling outward from Hermitage Water to surround the little stone chapel and spread up the hillsides.

They milled toward the castle, too, although the deep, wide ditch across which the drawbridge lay stopped them on the far side. The men on horseback kept them off the bridge.

Murray shook his head. He could not hear the guards.

A short time later, two other men appeared on the parapet with them.

Although Wat thought Murray must have expected to see someone he knew, the man looked nonetheless astonished. The two newcomers looked a good deal alike. Both had tawny hair and similar features. The elder was thicker of body than the younger and had a harsher look to him. The younger one was smiling, the elder not.

The two conferred, and the elder shouted, “Welcome, Father! We are glad to see you. Tell your lads to move those cattle back across the river and make camp for themselves. Then come inside. We’ve a surprise for you.”

“What ha’ ye done wi’ the captain o’ Douglas’s guard?” Murray shouted.

“For the present, I am he,” the elder one said. “Or mayhap Tom is.”

Neb Duffin had moved up beside Wat. “That ’un doing the talking, sir?”

“Aye?”

“That be the Douglas’s man,” Neb said. “The one as said we had his lordship’s permission to hunt in the Forest and take wood.”

“Find Sym and bring him to me, Neb,” Wat said. “Don’t draw attention to yourself, but make haste.”

Meg was refreshing the damp cloth with water from the basin when Amalie said, “Meg, I . . . I think something is happening. Oh . . . oh, Meggie! Oh, God!”

A light knock sounded on the door. But Meg was staring at a rapidly spreading pool of what looked like blood forming beneath her sister. For a moment, she did not take in the light sound, or other muffled ones that followed.

Just as she did turn blindly toward the door, it opened and Sym said urgently as he slipped inside, “Keep that row down, will ye! I dinna ken who may be about!”

“How’d you get in here?”

“By yon postern door and the service stairs, o’ course. I came to tell ye—”

“Never mind that,” Meg interjected as Amalie screamed again. “Run and get help, Sym. Something is dreadfully wrong with the lady Amalie.”

He was already staring at Amalie, his narrow face blanching. But he turned back to Meg and said, “The master canna help, but your da’s here, and—”

“Did you not hear me, Sym? We need
help,
but not a man unless you can bring one who knows doctoring. I . . . I think she may be . . .” Realizing even in her distress that Amalie would not thank her for describing her suspicions to Sym or to their father, she said instead, “Is there no woman anywhere nearby, Sym?”

“Nay . . . or wait now, let a man think. The cook has a sister who comes wi’ fresh eggs for him every day. If she’s no here now, she’ll be nearby. I’ll find her.”

He ran out.

Meg had not known of the cook’s sister but realized now that a sister who came every day might well be unmarried and know no more than she did herself about what most likely ailed Amalie. Deciding she ought to have asked him for a married woman, she hovered on the brink of running to find someone herself. An inner voice warned not to be a ninny. She could not leave her sister.

In any event, she would likely run into Simon or Tom and find herself locked in again, because even if she should find her father, he was doubtless in league with her brothers by now. He would not let them harm her, but neither, with Simon there, was he likely to help her.

She knew then that she had not been thinking straight since Amalie’s first cry of pain. Had she spared but a thought to the matter, she must have realized that Simon’s men were likely to have taken over all of Hermitage by then. But if so, what had Sym meant when he’d said what he had about the master?

Sym darted back in again. “I forgot to tell ye, Master Wat’s with your da’!”

In the upper hall, Wat stood silently in the group of men that had accompanied Sir Iagan inside, trying to assess the situation. Buccleuch, fearing he would be quickly recognized inside, had stayed outside with the herdsmen.

Sir Iagan had made no objection to Wat’s company, having informed his sons only that although the men looking after the cattle could remain with the herd, he would bring a few of the others inside in case they had use for them.

So far, he had not identified Wat.

Only Wat and two of Sir Iagan’s men had gone all the way to the upper hall with him. Sir Iagan had told his sons the others would await him in the lower hall.

“’Tis more suitable for the likes o’ them, Simon,” he’d said.

“Who’s that fellow?” the one that Neb had identified replied.

Wat stiffened when the man pointed to him but tried to look harmless, and to make himself believe that he could trust his father-in-law.

“That’s Wat Graham,” Sir Iagan said. “Your cousin Jed Murray sent him to me after we talked o’ finding someone to train our lads better to defend Elishaw.”

So far, so good
, Wat told himself, hoping his face revealed no expression and wondering where the devil Meg was. Murray had not mentioned her, nor did his sons. The younger one had not said anything at all after greeting his father.

Tam had gone with Sym to the postern door at the back of the gate tower, and would bring more of their men in that way if Murray’s sons or their men had not already learned of its existence. That he had not yet seen Tam was worrisome.

Simon Murray seemed to accept him as some sort of upper retainer his father had hired, and clearly Simon was the one in charge.

The three Murrays had been chatting for a time of nothing in particular when Sir Iagan said abruptly, “What the devil are the pair o’ ye up to here, anyway?”

The younger man looked down at his feet, but Simon said, “We are doing our duty, sir. Without knowing what has come to pass with the Douglas in England, we must make sure that Hermitage does not fall into the wrong hands.”

“I’d have expected Douglas to leave it well guarded,” Sir Iagan said.

“Evidently not,” Simon said with an all-encompassing gesture.

“And who suggested this course to you?” his father asked.

Just then, Wat saw his own man, Snirk Rabbie of Coldheugh, and Snirk’s brother Jeb slip past the archway that led to the garderobe. Another familiar face showed itself briefly before ducking out of sight again.

But where was Tam?

“I couldna bring the cook’s sister, so I brought Tammy instead,” Sym said as he opened the door without knocking and walked in.

Meg jumped up from beside Amalie and stepped in front of her.

“I . . . I don’t think Tammy can help us, Sym, but thank you—”

“I can if she’ll let me, my lady,” Tammy said quietly. “Sym told me what he’d seen, and if it be as I think it may, my sister had the same thing happen. I helped the midwife when she came to us.”

“I pray you, Meg, let him stay,” Amalie said, gasping. “We don’t know what to do, and I’m too tired now to care who it is. Tammy is kind, and I trust him.”

Meg nodded, however reluctantly, and Tammy passed her, saying, “Sym, lad, fetch towels and warm water from the kitchen. Then, my lady, if you’ll find her some fresh clothes, we can see about getting her cleaned up and more comfortable. I should have a look first, though, to see what’s what, as ye might say.”

Gritting her teeth, Meg looked to Amalie to make that decision.

“Whatever you need to do, Tammy, just do it,” her sister said weakly. “At least the pain has eased. The waves still come, but they are not so bad now.”

“That be good, that is,” he said. “And yon mess be good, too, lass. The midwife did say that bad things can happen if there be too little bleeding.”

Ignoring his informality, Meg hurriedly sought fresh clothing for Amalie. They had long since loosened everything she was wearing, so that she wore only a loose kirtle over her shift now. Finding what she needed in a nearby kist, she set the clothes at hand, so she could help Amalie dress when she was ready. Then, unwilling to watch Tammy perform his examination, she went to the doorway to watch for Sym. The boy did not need to see any more than was necessary.

“Meg,” Amalie said a few moments later. “The way you keep looking back at Tammy and me, and wincing, reminds me forcibly of our lady mother.”

“Then I won’t look,” Meg promised. “I’m just waiting for Sym, so he need not come into the room.”

“My lady, I did tell Master Wat I’d be at hand for him downstairs,” Tammy said. “If ye could make your way far enough down the main stairs to glean some notion of what might be happening in the upper hall . . .”

“I can’t leave you alone with her, Tammy,” Meg said, although the temptation to do as he asked was nearly overpowering. “You must know that.”

“Meg, don’t be ridiculous,” Amalie said. “His being here is not nearly as bad as what happened to put me in this situation. But you look so uncomfortable that you’re embarrassing me more than he is. Do go see what you can see.”

“But Sym will—”

“He won’t run in without speaking up first,” Tammy said. “I can tell him to stay out of the room and just go and take the water and towels from him. Lady Amalie is already more like herself now, so she’ll do well enough.”

“Then I can stay with her, and you can go help Sir Walter,” Meg said.

“Meg, much as I love you, I do wish you would go away,” Amalie said. “Truly, I don’t know why it is, but the plain truth is that I don’t mind Tammy helping me with this nearly as much as I would mind your doing so.”

Although she disapproved, Meg needed no further encouragement.

Neither of the two Murray brothers had replied to Sir Iagan’s question.

Visibly nettled, he said, “How can ye say ye’ve done your duty if ye canna tell your own father what
duty
ye’re speaking of?”

When neither answered, he looked to the younger. “What are ye doing here, Tom? I thought ye were at Eyemouth, serving Sir Amos Biggar.”

“Not when Simon had need of me,” Tom said. “I did think, though, that—” He broke off, flushing, and looked to Simon.

“He thought he was serving the Percies, sir,” Simon said. “He’s such a prattler and lackwit that one did not want to tell him the truth.”

“And just what is the truth, Simon? Tell them that,” Meg said from somewhere behind Wat.

He felt overwhelming relief to hear her voice and nearly smiled as he turned to see her standing at the main entrance to the hall. He stopped the smile before it did more than twitch his lips, but only because of the way she looked.

The lass that, during much of his absence, he had lustily been picturing naked was a rare mess, and everyone was looking at her now. One side of her gray skirt was coated with a substance that looked to his experienced eye like fresh blood.

The only thing that stopped him from rushing to her side was that he was sure it was not hers. She was too angry to have lost that much of her own blood.

Her color was high, her hands were on her hips, and she had fire in her eyes.

“Meg, what are you doing here?” Sir Iagan demanded with credible bewilderment, considering his foreknowledge. “This is no place for a woman.”

“I am not the only woman here, sir,” she said curtly. “Amalie is upstairs. Tom struck her, and she is badly hurt. As you can see,” she added, dramatically spreading her skirt to show the worst of the blood.

“Bless the child! What did you do to her, Tom?”

“Nobbut what she asked for, as usual,” Tom snapped.

“You are right, though, Father,” Simon said. “Neither of them belongs here. Go back upstairs, Meg, unless you want to deal with me.”

Just then, Snirk Rabbie stepped into the hall through the garderobe archway with his sword drawn. Catching Wat’s eye, he nodded toward the other end as two other men appeared at the main entrance, flanking Meg.

Wat took a step forward, bringing himself even with Sir Iagan. “When you speak to my lady wife, Simon Murray, you will speak with due respect. My men, not yours, are now in control of Hermitage, and the Douglas’s men are free.”

“What business is this of yours? What the devil?” Simon exclaimed. Seeing more men in the garderobe archway, he drew his sword. Tom did the same.

“Seize them, lads,” Wat ordered.

“Hold now,” Sir Iagan bellowed. Turning to Wat, he said, “I’ll grant ye, they seem to be up to mischief here, but would ye break your word of honor
now
, lad? D’ye forget that ye’ve sworn never to take up arms against me or mine? Tell your men to lower their weapons.”

Wat stared at him in dismay.

Snirk Rabbie kept his sword at the ready, but looked to Wat for orders.

Meg said calmly, “Sir Walter may have made you such a promise, Father, but I never did.”

“Aye, and what of it? D’ye think to take up arms against your brothers?”