Moonlight Raider
Page 26
Sym remained silent.
Gray said, “We realized that afterward, sir. Meantime, Lady Rosalie did offer to ride with them to the kirk, but we all realized that an audience would make Lady Molly’s meeting with Cockburn more difficult. Sakes, sir, we were certain that she would be safe with the abbot, Father Eamon, two monks, and her own father.”
“My Emma did go with her ladyship, laird,” Sym said quietly.
Something in his tone alerted Wat to a heavier meaning in his words. “Did those villains capture Emma, too, Sym?”
“Nay, laird, but one o’ them so-called monks—may God send him straight to hell!—knocked her down so she cracked her skull on a prayer stool. Then them perfidious bangsters left her a-lying in a pool o’ her own blood.”
“Sym,” Wat said, grief surging through him as he reached to grip Sym’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry! I swear to you, we’ll see them hanged for her murder.”
“They do be guilty o’ murder, laird, but it isna Emma’s,” Sym said. “They killed Father Eamon. But God be thankit,” he added before Wat could express his dismay, “our Emma has me own hard head and me keen wits, too. She lay like one dead, so they must think they killed her, whilst she were a-holding her breath as best she could and listening hard. She said her ladyship talked right back to them monks. Then a new voice spoke up, and Emma heard her ladyship call him Ringan Tuedy.”
“So Tuedy has her,” Wat muttered. Suddenly, the relief he had felt at learning of Emma’s survival made his fear for Molly nearly overpowering.
It occurred to him that if Tuedy had Molly and claimed that the two of them had consummated their union at once, proving otherwise would be impossible even if a magistrate let Lady Meg testify to Molly’s intact virtue after the forced wedding.
Struggling to clear his mind so he could think, Wat asked the most important question first. “Where might Tuedy have taken her?”
Without hesitation, Sym said, “I dinna ken that yet, but he must ha’ known ye’d left Rankilburn, sir. He’d never ha’ tried such a daft plan had ye been home. See you, he sent word to us hisself o’ what he had done.”
“What? Taunting me?”
Sym hesitated but said, “Perhaps, a bit. But the important thing be that when he did send word, he must already ha’ known that ye’d captured Rutherford.”
“Be damned to the man!” Wat muttered. “How could he have known that?”
“The two men Geordie saw who hied themselves off, laird,” Jed said quietly.
“Ay-di-mi,” Wat said, putting a hand to his brow. Gathering his wits, he looked again at Sym. “What exactly did Tuedy’s messenger say.”
“ ’Twas a pair o’ lads,” Sym said. “They said they didna ken nowt but that Tuedy had sent them to tell us he has our lady Molly and will give her back to ye only in exchange for Gil Rutherford. Ye ha’ till tomorrow’s dawn to save her.”
“By God, that’s no time at all,” Wat muttered, “I’ll—” He broke off, unable to think beyond his overwhelming desire to see Tuedy’s head on a pike.
“Tuedy said ye’re to meet him at Peat Law wi’ Rutherford, laird,” Sym said softly. “If ye’re no there on time, he said, he’s a-going to keep her hisself and make her sorry for ever letting ye touch her, if he doesna kill her.”
The second stone came out of the wall more easily than the first had but only if one discounted the time it had taken to scrape away the mortar that had bound it to stones above and at its sides. The process was slow, and the room stayed dark.
Nevertheless, Molly could put a hand through the hole she had made and be nearly sure that she felt outside air. She thought she could feel a slight breeze.
By putting her head right to the floor, she could see through the hole, but that brought no satisfaction. Reminding herself that the sky was likely overcast again or the surrounding hills hid any stars, she went doggedly back to work.
Again, she lost track of time. Lighting one of the candles and sticking it in its own tallow on the lowest shelf, she saw that it merely reassured her that no mice or large spiders were inclined to disturb her labors.
However, if Tuedy returned, he would surely notice the candlelit hole.
Also, she might have greater need for the candles later, so reluctantly, she pinched it out. Then, feeling her way, she began working on the next stone, and a new problem arose. The air outside was considerably colder now than the air in the storeroom. Moreover, it occurred to her that if she could not make her hole large enough to crawl through before Tuedy returned, the hole would admit enough daylight to reveal itself to him when he came into the room. What he would do then…
She refused to think about that.
Wat found it hard to breathe after learning of Tuedy’s threat, but he knew he could not dwell on what might be happening to Molly. If he was going to find her, he had to concentrate on that and that alone. One of his strengths, according to those who spoke of such things, was his ability to focus on one task at a time without losing sight of others that remained to do. He would have to prove that skill now.
Sym and Jed remained silent, and Wat ignored Len Gray until Gray said, “We did learn from young Emma that tracks of at least a half dozen or more horses led away from the kirk, my lord. Despite her injury, the lassie managed to follow them until their trail led up out of the glen. We found her senseless soon after that.”
“How was she when you left the Hall?” Wat asked Sym.
“She’ll do, laird. Like I told ye, she inherited her da’s hard head. Tammy did send men to follow their trail, but it led them hither and yon until they lost it. One o’ our lads said it looked to him as if they was keeping close to Teviotdale, though.”
“Not heading north toward Drumelzier?”
“Nay, for all the twists and turns they did take, the lad said, they kept aiming more eastward than north.” Sym paused, glancing at his son.
Then, he said. “Jed told me about them two chaps that got away when ye captured Rutherford, laird. We may be able to track them when it gets light. Tam sent trackers after the two wha’ came to the Hall. He sent others out to raise the dale and said they should all gather at Bellendean. One way or t’other…” He paused.
“We’ll find her ladyship, laird,” Jed said. “We must.”
“Aye, we will, but we must not linger here any longer,” Wat said. Gesturing toward the sleeping men below, he added, “Get these men up and ready to travel. Put sacks over their heads and have our men lead their horses. Tell Geordie I want Rutherford near me with at least four of our lads flanking him.”
“I don’t know this area, my lord,” Len Gray said. “Where is Peat Law?”
“It rises amidst a maze of hills just northwest of Selkirk, not far from where Yarrow Water flows into the Tweed. It is distinctive, taller than Black Law.”
“Them wha’ tracked Lady Molly did see Ettrick Water and the Yarrow in their wandering,” Sym said. “Tuedy did say ye must come alone wi’ Rutherford. Ye willna do that, but we canna take all these ruffians wi’ us.”
“We’ll be heading toward Melrose, nevertheless,” Wat pointed out. “Geordie can take Rutherford’s men on to Jamie at the abbey. He can also promise his grace for me that Rutherford will soon follow. Jamie has enough men-at-arms with him to see that all of these louts get to Stirling for hanging.”
“He’ll no be a-hanging them at the abbey, more’s the pity,” Sym said.
“He’ll want to,” Wat said. “But likely Father Abbot will disagree.”
“Hawick’s closer than Melrose,” Gray pointed out. “We could take them there and leave them with Douglas for the nonce.”
“Aye, but I’d spend more time getting Douglas out of bed and persuading him to lock this lot up than taking them to the abbey will,” Wat said.
“What if his grace has gone?” Gray asked.
Wat cast him a narrow look. “Then I’d have heard as much. You need not ride with us, you know. Mayhap, you should go back to the Hall and Aunt Rosalie.
”
“I believe I’ll be more help if I stay with you, m’lord,” Gray said quietly.
Wat shrugged. He didn’t trust the man, but neither did he need to worry about one man among so many of his own lads.
The men wasted little time and were soon away. With the overcast sky, it was still dark, giving little hint of the time. Wat knew that with the nights as long as they were, they had hours yet before the eastern sky would grow lighter.
Nevertheless, his tension increased. He ordered torches lit.
Sym rode up alongside him after they crossed to the northwest bank of the Teviot near Denholm. Reining his mount close to Wat’s, he said, “We didna leave anyone behind to see if they could find them tracks from last night, laird.”
Wat said bluntly, “Do you think anyone else could find what Jed did not?”
“The light was bad,” Sym reminded him. “By daylight—”
Wat shook his head. “I can’t spare any more men, Sym. We have twice as many as Rutherford does, but I don’t want to take unnecessary risk. Also, Tuedy’s meeting place concerns me. Peat Law sits amidst a maze of cleuchs and hills, nearly all of which have water spilling down them, just as Black Law does.”
“Sakes, laird, the Borders be rife wi’ such places. Them hills yonder north of us be just as bad, and we’ll be passing right betwixt ’em.”
“Aye, but we’ll meet the highroad to Melrose that way, Sym. As it is, we’re unlikely to reach Peat Law by dawn. We need to increase our pace.”
He gave the order, assuring himself that a faster pace would make it less likely that any of their prisoners could plan mischief. Even so, his tension grew. He almost wished that Sym would keep talking. It was harder than ever to keep his thoughts off Molly.
He was still struggling to avoid thinking about what Tuedy might be doing to her when armed riders descended from the hills around them, and battle erupted.
Wat barely drew his sword quickly enough from its scabbard on his back to block a sword slash from a rider right in front of him. The swordsman’s horse plunged into his, but Wat’s mount sidestepped it enough to let Wat draw his dirk and dispatch the other rider with an upward thrust into the other’s ribs.
Wheeling his mount away, his gaze scanning all sides, he saw Sym and Jed battling two others, Len Gray a third nearby. With pandemonium reigning all around them, the torch nearest him went out.
When it did, and before his night vision recovered, Wat felt a man-sized object crash into him. Sharp pain exploded in his upper left arm. His horse seemed to vanish from under him, and he hit the ground with a bone-shaking thud.
The night swallowed him into its darkness.
Molly felt an unexpected urge to burst into tears.
Having managed to loosen and remove four stones from the outer wall, she realized with despair that although she could get a firmer grip on those at the base of the wall, they were half-buried in the unyielding ground and would not move.
They were also uneven and larger than the ones she had removed. Only one of those was any size at all, and the hole she had made was not nearly large enough for her to crawl through.
Dashing tears from her cheeks, she muttered, “Stop thinking about failure, Molly Cockburn Scott. Think only of getting out of here!”
Though the nights were longer, they were not endless. When daylight came, at least she would see what she was doing. On the thought, she lit her candle again, held it near the opening, and saw that she would need at least three or four more stones out before she’d have a chance of squeezing through the opening.
Her tinderbox had little tinder remaining, so she left the candle lit.
Hearing a horse snort, Wat decided that either he was still alive or heaven did, as he had long ago thought it must, have horses to ride. Since God knew everything, He would surely know the value of having a good horse under Him.
“Laird, if ye’re no dead yet, open your eyes.”
Sym’s voice sounded strange, but it was Sym’s voice.
Everything else seemed oddly silent.
Wat opened his eyes and saw a few scattered stars with Sym’s head blocking most of his view. Then approaching torchlight revealed the older man’s face close to his own. “What happened, Sym?”
“Rutherford’s gone,” Sym said bluntly. “They must ha’ recognized his pony, laird, ’cause even wi’ that sack over his head, they struck down the lad leading his horse and cut Rutherford hisself out as if he’d been a steer meant for butchering. Then them chaps made off wi’ him, and most o’ the others followed. I dinna ken how many there were, laird, but they dashed in and were gone again near as fast.”
“What about our lads?” Wat asked.
“Jock Graham be dead, but there be only one other injury ’sides yourself, sir.”
Wat winced. He knew all his men well, hated to lose any, and Jock had been Kip Graham’s cousin. It was a pity, he mused, that Rutherford could hang just once.
“How is our injured man?” he asked.
“Better than ye look,” Sym replied.
“I’ll do,” Wat said firmly, hoping he was right. “What about their lot?”
“A half dozen o’ them fled wi’ Rutherford and the rescuers that made away wi’ him. The others willna trouble us further.”
Trying to think and to assess how much damage his body had taken, Wat said, “Is someone following those who got away?”
“Aye, sure, my Jed and Ferg, along wi’ half o’ our men. I’m thinking Rutherford and them will no be able to hide their trail, leastwise not after dawn. Afore then, they could vanish, I expect. But Geordie and the men o’ your tail be here, and we caught ourselves some’un that may be useful.”
“Who?”
“Ned Cockburn,” Sym said. “He’s alive only ’cause Pete’s Aggie recognized him, and Pete didna kill him lest his death upset Lady Molly. I didna say nowt about nowt to the man and told our lads to hold their wheesht, too.”
“Good, I want to talk to Ned.” Wat sat up, taking care to do so slowly. Someone had bandaged his left arm. It hurt like fury, but he could move it.
“We canna trade that villain for our lady Molly now,” Sym said. “Even if we could catch them, we canna reach Peat Law by dawn.”
“Someone organized this ambush, Sym. We need to know if Tuedy was involved. Our best hope is that he knows nowt of what happened here.”
Sym grunted. “I dinna ken that, sir. If he knew we had Rutherford…”
He stopped there, but Wat easily followed his logic. “Then someone told him, and the number of men who knew we’d caught him is small.”
“Gey small,” Sym agreed. “I count just two. And, afore Tuedy said where to meet him, we’d ha’ gone north through Denholm to reach Melrose, and avoided this cut. Knowing ye had to hie yourself, though…”
Wat nodded and wished he hadn’t when pain shot through his head. “Send someone to Bellendean or go yourself, Sym. Tam has men out looking for Tuedy, and I want as many more searchers as we can get. But tell them to do it quietly.”
“I’d send Kip Graham, laird. He’ll need action to keep from thinking about Jock, and I be staying wi’ ye. Herself did say I were no to take me keekers off ye.”
“Begging your pardon, my lord,” Len Gray said quietly from behind them.
“What?” Wat demanded, turning swiftly and thus causing himself another jolt of pain. “You walk like a damned cat, Gray.”
Unfazed, Gray said, “If you’re gathering searchers, may I suggest that we inform the Douglas, too. He can send people out from Hawick faster than Kip Graham can reach the men gathering at Bellendean.”
“I’d liefer not spare anyone else,” Wat said. Looking at Sym, he added, “You did say that our injured man fared better than I did, aye?”
“Aye, laird, and he’ll do well enow. He willna be able to ride with us, but he says he can get hisself home again.”
“Then, if you want to help, Gray, you can see our man safely home.”
“I ca
n, aye, and visit Hawick as we go. He can rest whilst I talk to Douglas.”
“Ye seem mighty eager t’ see the man,” Sym said curtly.
“I am, and I hope he’ll be as eager to talk to me.”
“By God, you’re a damned spy!” Wat exclaimed. “I suspected as much.”
“Guilty, my lord,” Gray said with a wry smile. “But not of spying for the Percies, if that’s what you’ve also been thinking.”
Chapter 19
The tallow candle sputtered out at last. Plunged into pitch darkness again, Molly thought wistfully but briefly about how comforting its light had been. With a sigh, she felt her way back to her slowly widening hole.
“I hope Tuedy stays away all day,” she muttered. The hole was big enough now to get her head through without scraping her ears off but would not yet allow passage of her shoulders.
She had stuck tight when she tried to put an arm through with her head and had been terrified for a time that Tuedy would find her like that.
Where had he gone? If he had gone raiding with Gil Rutherford, who else had gone with them, and how long would they be away? Were Will and Ned involved, as she had begun to suspect they were?
That Wat might yet prove to be right about them was vexing.
She dwelt on that thought as she applied the spurtle’s handle end to the mortar. It occurred to her then that she’d never heard Wat gloat, about anything.
He was kind to his sisters and took full responsibility for them and for the rest of his household and clan. He was admirably even-tempered, albeit rather terrifying in his own way when he did get angry. She trusted his word.
Fervently, she hoped that he was searching for her and furious with Tuedy.
“What the devil are you trying to say to me?” Wat demanded of Len Gray.
“I served the fourth Earl of Douglas whilst I was in England,” Gray said. “I spied on Harry Percy… that is, the current Earl of Northumberland, but only in hope of making friends with him. You must know that as Hotspur’s son, and due to his father’s and grandfather’s enmity with the fourth King Henry of England, Harry Percy spent much of his minority exiled in Scotland.”