'Fondle her,' he ordered, and returned for his own horse. 'That was an unpleasant few moments,' he said. 'We will try this way, unless you can think of another?'
'No,' I said, smoothing my hand along Kailzie's muzzle, fondling her ears and blowing into her nostrils until she nuzzled me. 'You know the area better than I do.'
We moved on again, ever more wary. Twice more we stopped as I thought I heard riders. The first was a lone deer, the second was a riderless horse, tossing its mane as it picked its own path through the Moss. We kept on, slowly, as the moon passed across the sky and faded, and a bright weather-gleam cracked open the eastern sky.
'Dawn,' Hugh said briefly. 'I had hoped to be out of Tarras before now.'
This time there was no friendly woodland in which to shelter from the dangers of daylight. Instead Hugh led us to a slight ridge on which there was a peculiar rock formation. Two long fangs of rock faced each other, creating a cave-like effect except lacking a roof.
'This is the Wolf Craig,' Hugh told me, 'because it is shaped like the jaws of a wolf.'
He was right; the edges of the rock were serrated like teeth, even the colour, becoming visible in the growing light, was ochre-red, like old blood. Sheep and wild beasts had used this place for shelter, creating a familiar, friendly aroma. Once again we knee-haltered the horses, ate what little we had and settled ourselves in for the night. I did not mention the aches in my rump: not that morning.
'It is more exposed here,' Hugh said. 'We will have to stand watches in case somebody comes.'
I nodded. We relapsed into silence that I, for one, found miserable. 'Hugh,' I said at last, 'I should not have watched you at the waterfall.'
'No,' he said, 'you should not have.'
Well, that did not help much. I had hoped that he would say it was all right, or something equally placating. I felt worse rather than better; that man had a way of saying little and meaning much, rather than most men who talk a lot and say nothing.
'I am sorry,' I had to tear the words from inside me. I was not good at apologising.
He looked at me through these steady grey eyes and nodded.
I wondered what he was thinking. 'If you knew I was watching, why did you not tell me, or cover yourself up?'
'Why should I do that?' he said at once. 'It was up to you to look elsewhere, not up to me to hide away.'
'You did not mind me seeing?' I said.
'No,' his smile was slow but worth waiting for. 'I did not mind at all. You had seen the worst of me in my face; the rest is just like other men. If you wanted to look then you may look and no harm done.'
I wondered if he was offering to strip for me. I hoped not. I would have expected such an offer from the boys of the Lethan, not from Hugh. 'I don't want to look just now,' I countered quickly. I was not telling the truth. I did not tell him that he was not like other men: no other man could have affected me as he had.
'I am glad to hear it,' Hugh quietened my fears. 'You are not the first woman to see me like that.'
'Oh?' I felt an unaccountable twist of jealousy for these unknown women who had seen him naked. I did not know why I felt that way. 'I don't wish to hear of your no-doubt many amorous conquests.' The bitter words were out before I could stop them.
'I have had no amorous conquests,' he told me with surprising frankness. 'Ugly men do not.'
'You are not ugly,' I said softly, and with force.
'Others disagree.'
'Then they are wrong,' I said.
'Other men are more handsome.' Hugh seemed determined to prove his own unsuitability.
I was equally determined to disprove it. 'I do not care about other men, and I cannot tell if they are handsome or not. Nor should you. 'I took a deep breath. 'You have no reason to be shy about your appearance. Or your body.'
He held my gaze. 'I have three sisters,' he said at length. 'They are the women of whom I spoke.'
I do not know why I felt a surge of relief. 'You should have said!'
'You should not have looked,' Hugh was smiling again.
'I am not your sister to be teased,' I felt the heat in my voice as I stood up. This not-ugly man was playing with me.
'I am not your brother to be watched with impunity,' he responded, calmly. 'But I'm sure the Armstrongs will be interested in your opinion.'
'The Armstrongs?' I did not understand.
'You are shouting,' Hugh explained. 'Your voice will carry right across the Moss.'
He was right of course, damn the man. I sat down again in the shelter of the jagged teeth of the Wolf Craigs and glared across at him instead. Unfortunately he did not seem in the slightest put out by even my most ferocious frown. Presumably his sisters had similar tricks. Damn that man. Damn him for the devilry of the Veitches.
'You had best get some sleep,' Hugh said, mildly. 'We have a hard night ahead of us.'
'We have just had a hard night,' I was not quite prepared for a reconciliation.
'Tomorrow we skirt Liddesdale,' he said.
That name set a chill through me, as well it might. I have mentioned Liddesdale before, as anybody talking of the old Border must. It was the worst valley in the Borderland and therefore perhaps the most dangerous place in the whole of Europe. Even royal armies walked wary when passing through, and although the King had a garrison there in Hermitage Castle, that place had its own reputation of cruelty and menace. You will have heard of robber barons? Well in Liddesdale every baron was a robber and every family a riding family; you will know that in our Border the name riding and raiding were synonymous. A riding family was one that struck out by night or day to reive or rob the cattle and goods from others, be they ten miles away or a hundred and ten. Every night from autumn to spring the hills were busy with reiving bands that could be three strong or three thousand.
Liddesdale was home to the most dangerous of these families and we had to pass it to get home. I did not sleep well that day as we lay between the red fangs of the wolf with the air damp above and the ground hard beneath. Hugh scooped a hold to cup my hip, which helped and twice during the day I stirred, to see him on watch. He looked down on me, put a finger to his lips and winked.
I woke with his jack covering me, a pounding head and the knowledge that we had a bad night ahead augmented by the tension between us. I handed him back his jack without a word. I did not know how to thank him that day.
'Are you ready?' Standing at the side of the Wolf Craigs with the sun setting behind him, Hugh's face was hidden. I saw him in silhouette with his broad shoulders, trim waist and the flare of his hips leading to long straight legs.
'You look like some sort of Greek God,' I said and immediately regretted my words as he turned away.
'That was meant to be a compliment,' I added.
'I know it was,' he said shortly. 'Mount Kailzie and ride.'
I mounted Kailzie and I rode, wishing I had never opened my mouth or tried friendship with this moody, capable, complex man. The Moss looked exactly the same as it had the previous night, dark and damp, with patches of mist drifting around the peat-hags and twisted trees like the ghosts of the damned, leaking leaves to a fluky wind.
'Look.' Hugh pointed ahead. I saw what looked like a small copse of trees with firelight flickering at their side. 'A watch fire. The Armstrongs have posted men there.' He studied the fire, slowly counting. 'I see five men.'
'Can't we go round?' I asked.
In reply he took me by the hand and helped me, quite gently from the back of my horse. He led me ten steps to the right. 'Stop there,' he said, 'and stretch out one foot.'
I did so. The mud sucked at me so fiercely I thought I might lose my boot. I withdrew quickly, with Hugh holding me.
'There is a stretch of black bog like that all the way around this damnable moss,' Hugh said, 'mile upon mile of it, except for three places, the three yetts, or gates of Tarras. This is the Black Yett, the least known of them. We can drown in the bog or face the Armstrongs.'
I was silent for a
space. 'What do we do?'
'I need you to keep your tongue under control and do exactly as I say,' Hugh had his answer ready. 'Can you do that?'
'I don't know about my tongue…' I began, and stopped myself. 'Yes,' I said. 'Yes I can do that.'
'Good.' He helped me back on Kailzie, where the renewed pressure pushed into my tender parts. I did not protest. 'Now hold on and trust me.' Walking in front, he led me a full fifty paces into the dark to one of the wind-twisted Scots Pines. 'Stand here,' he said, 'and the tree will shield your shape. The wind is coming from the west so it will drive your scent away from the track.'
I nodded, obeying his instructions not to speak.
'I will distract the Armstrongs long enough for them to leave the yett unguarded. They will ride past you into the Moss. I want you to wait until all five have passed and then you will come out and ride through the yett as if all the devils of hell were sticking red hot pokers into your…' he stopped as I concealed my smile. Hugh had nearly dropped his guard then and I liked him all the more for it. 'When all five have passed I want you to ride as fast as you can through the yett. There is a small slope on the other side. Go down the slope and turn right. Ride straight and true until you come to a ruined chapel. Wait for me there. Have you got that?'
'I have got that,' I said.
'If I am not there within two hours then I am not coming,' Hugh continued. 'In that case you must wait for dark tomorrow and ride northward; follow the Pole Star.'
'Why would you not come?' I asked in a small voice.
'Because I will be dead,' Hugh said.
'What?' But I spoke to myself. Hugh had vanished into the dark as if he had never been there. I sat on Kailzie beside that gnarled pine with the ache of loneliness in my heart and fear in my soul. 'But I don't want you dead,' I said softly, 'I want you with me.' Nobody heard except the wind, and the wind does not care what we want. It follows its own course, whatever that happens to be. And anyway, Hugh was not my man; Robert was my man and he would be out there somewhere, scouring the hills for me.
I could see the flicker of firelight by the darker patch that I knew to be woodland, and I could smell the occasional whiff of smoke, sweet and pleasant in the night air. It was a few long minutes before I heard a long drawn out call, like the scream of a hunting vixen, and the words 'A Veitch! A Veitch!'
That was Hugh. There was no other Veitch in the area and nobody else would beard the Armstrongs in their own Tarras Moss. I heard the clash of steel on steel and then the sound of galloping hooves as one horseman thundered past me. A few seconds later came the shout 'A Veitch! A Veitch!' once again and then more horsemen and the cry, 'An Armstrong!' Long drawn out and echoing to the silent sky.
Tempted to charge in their wake and help Hugh, I knew that I would be more hindrance than help and instead pushed Kailzie forward and toward the Black Yett. I was nervous for Hugh and apprehensive in case the Armstrongs had left a man behind. I should not have bothered; the only man there lay on his back, arms outstretched. He may have been dead, he may have been alive, I did not know. I passed him with a scared glance and trotted on, hoping that Hugh was safe in the Moss as I tried to remember my instructions.
The Black Yett was ill marked by two large stones like the ones the ancient Druids used for worship, or so I have been told, and beyond there was a slope, just as Hugh had said. We slithered down, Kailzie and I, and I nearly dismounted myself in my haste. There was grass at the foot, sweet and fresh despite the lateness of the season, and I thought: was it left or right?
It was right, I was sure it was right, so I pulled Kailzie in that direction and kicked in my heels to cover the ground at a faster rate. We had not travelled more than half a mile when I saw the shell of a building that could only be the chapel although only God knew why anybody would wish to build a chapel in such a forlorn spot.
Somebody told me that this had once been a spital, a hospital, a stopping off spot for travellers traversing the lonely road between the great abbeys of the Scottish Border and the towns of England, and that may well be true. All I saw was a small, stone building with a pointed gable pierced with a round window. I led Kailzie inside this ruined sanctuary and let her graze because God knew she had been hard-worked on short rations the last few days. I was getting rather fond of that brown mare.
I was also getting rather fond of Hugh, moody and unpredictable though he was. I leaned against the cold, moss-furred stone walls of that ancient building, listened to the wind and waited. And waited. Border bred, I did not normally feel the cold but as I stood there a chill seemed to creep over me. It may have emanated from the ground or from the worn stones with whatever history they had, I do not know. I only know that within a short space of time I was shivering, pulling my clothes up to cover me and hoping that Hugh came along soon. I began seeing and hearing things in the dark, imagining that the rustle of bracken in a crack in the wall was an Armstrong coming to get me, or the distant bark of a fox was a horseman nosing in with drawn sword and evil intent. I began to form people out of shadows, such was the state of my imagination, so that a shift of moonlight cast the very image of Wild Will walking toward me, and the glint of a star on a burn became the ripple of light along the blade of a broadsword. I pulled my shawl closer about me and gasped with shock as a voice broke the silence.
'You did well, Jeannie.'
'Hugh?' I peered into the dark, half fearful in case it was an Armstrong or the Redcap demon from Hermitage Castle only a few miles away.
'Hugh it is.' He stepped into a circle of moonlight, looking taller than I remembered from only an hour or two again.
'The Armstrongs?'
'They won't be bothering us,' he assured me. 'I have a gift for you out here.'
I followed him outside the walls of the chapel, part expecting to see the head of a dead Armstrong or some such thing. As children Robert and I had scared each other with such tales. When faced with the reality there was no pleasure; only the fear was real.
'Here,' Hugh lifted a spare saddle from the back of his horse. 'One each. The previous owners have no further use for them.'
I did not ask further. I only held the saddle closely. 'You have no idea how much a certain part of me is grateful for this gift.'
Hugh leaned closer. 'I understand,' he said. 'Certain parts of me are equally grateful.' His smile was mischievous. I did not mention the smear of blood across his face. I knew that it was not his.
'You are a good man,' I said, and he turned away. I cursed myself for my wayward tongue.
'We had better keep moving,' Hugh said, 'I'd like as much distance as possible between us and the Black Yett.'
Having a saddle under me was infinitely more comfortable than riding without, so riding was much less of a hardship than it had been. The ground was also easier, springy turf and soft heather with less need to watch for peat-holes, bogland and sudden patches of dense forest. I began to feel quite relaxed, until we crested a ridge and Hugh put a hand on the bridle of my horse.
'Wait now,' he said softly and gestured beneath us.
The ridge stretched into the unseen dark and on its north it overlooked Liddesdale. Below us, deep in degradation and specked by flickering lights from fireside and window, swept that dreaded valley. Even up here with the fresh night wind blowing and the occasional spatter of rain cleaning the air, I could sense the wickedness.
'We have a choice,' Hugh said. 'We can either go around the valley, which means a ride of around forty miles or more, or we can cross it, which is much more dangerous and very much shorter.'
'Which shall we do?' I asked.
'We must decide between us.' Hugh said.
I looked at him. Nobody had ever asked my opinion about such matters before. In the Lethan, Father made all the decisions about farming or anything outside Cardrona Tower, while Mother was the matriarch of all within. There was no argument. Here, Hugh was treating me as if I mattered, as if I was important. It was a new sensation. 'Thank you,' I said simply.
'Thank you for what?' He sounded genuinely curious.
'For asking me,' I said. 'Not many men would have done so.'
He looked away. 'It is your life as much as mine,' Hugh said.
I pondered the choices; the longer, safer ride meant at least another night out in the open, another night on the hills that bordered the Armstrong homeland. It also meant another night of worry for my parents. And for Robert of course. How on earth could I forget my own Robert? On the other hand if we crossed directly…
'How long would it take to cross the valley?' I asked.
'That depends on luck,' Hugh said. 'Liddesdale is not a single valley; it is Y-shaped. If we manage to cross the downstroke of the Y we could be over in three hours at the most. If we are less lucky it will take twice as long, or we could be there forever, mouldering at the foot of a shallow grave.'
'Let's try it,' I said. 'If you agree.' I felt a surge of excitement at the thought of crossing the Armstrong homeland of Liddesdale. Until the Yorling's raid I had never thought of the Armstrongs except as a distant menace. Although we were always prepared for a raid on the Lethan, I had not considered Liddesdale or the Armstrongs as being a direct threat to me. Now, since I had met Wild Will face to scarred face and I knew what sort of man he was, I detested him and the whole Armstrong clan. They were my enemy and I wished to show them my contempt. I wanted to cross their damned valley to prove I was not scared.
Which, surprisingly, I was not. Why I was not scared, I did not know as Wild Will was undoubtedly the most dangerous man I had ever met.
'We will be passing through the most feared valley in the country,' Hugh reminded me.
'I know.' I said, 'but you will take care of me.' Once again, I had spoken before I thought.
'I am glad you think so.' I was surprised that Hugh replied so quickly. I was no longer surprised that he did not look at me. I knew I had embarrassed him again. Why did I keep doing that to a man who had shown me nothing but kindness and help?
'Dismount,' he ordered, and lent me his hand to help me down. I watched as he took a padded jack from behind his saddle, cut it into strips and wrapped them around Kailzie's hooves.
The Tweedie Passion Page 8
