Border Fire

by Amanda Scott

  “Mistress, wait!” Wee Toad broke into a run behind her. She had, perforce, to slow, lest he shout her name or—worse—shout his concern for everyone in the street to hear. “Ye mustna go so far,” he scolded breathlessly when he caught up. “I am going into the castle, Wee Toad,” she said calmly. “If you wish to come with me, keep quiet. If you want to tell Hob what I am doing, then go. He cannot stop me, nor will you. I mean to learn exactly where these villains are holding the master.”

  Chapter 22

  “I would slight Carlisle castell high

  Though it were builded of marble stone…”

  COMICALLY, WEE TOAD BELL’S eyebrows flew upward. “D’ye think ye can find him, mistress?”

  “Aye, for I know of at least two Grahams who work inside the wall,” Janet said. “They are kinsmen of mine, and if either is here today, he will help me.”

  Wee Toad offered no more argument after that, trailing in her wake as she approached the gate. Casually, she swung her basket and smiled at the gatekeeper and the man-at-arms standing guard beside the gate.

  “’Tis a fine morning, is it not?” she said, speaking in the broad accent of a common English Border woman.

  “Aye, it is,” the gatekeeper said, grinning back at her. “What’s in your basket, lass?”

  “Meat pies for my cousin, Neal Graham,” she said. “D’ye think one o’ ye could be so kind as to fetch him for me?”

  “I’m no lackey,” the guard said, “but if ye’ll give us a pie each, the keeper here will let ye slip in and look for your cousin youself. ’Twill give the lads inside a rare treat to see a bonny wench like yourself struttin’ about.”

  “Ye’re welcome to ha’ a pie each,” she said, fluttering her lashes. “Neal will not miss them, for I packed plenty and more for him to share.”

  “I wish I had a cousin like you,” the gatekeeper said, chucking her under the chin with one thick, grubby finger.

  She tossed her head saucily. “Mayhap ye do,” she said. “I’ll warrant ye dinna ken all your cousins, me lad.”

  Laughing, he opened the gate, and she looked at the mechanism as she passed through. The bolts were stout ones though, and the gate heavy and ironbound. Inside, she noted that there were thick iron bars to set across it at night. Doubtless Buccleuch would already know these details, but one never knew. In any case, she decided, it would be foolish to waste such an opportunity.

  Finding Neal Graham proved easier than she had expected, when one of the men in the inner bailey offered to fetch him for her.

  A few moments later, Matty’s burly cousin hurried through a nearby archway. Had he not clearly been searching for someone, Janet would not have known him, for it had been years since she had seen him and he had grown considerably in girth. She had walked right up to him before he paid her any heed, and then he did so only because she said clearly, “Cousin Neal?”

  “Who are ye, lass? I be looking for me cousin Matty fra’ Brackengill.”

  “Look at me, Neal.”

  He did then, and his eyes widened in shock. “Mistress Janet?”

  “Aye,” she said, “but pray, do not shout my name to everyone here.”

  “Well, I did hear that Sir Hugh were here, and I thought it odd that Matty would ha’ come wi’ him, but if she came wi’ ye—”

  “Hugh is here?” Janet’s knees threatened to betray her.

  “Aye, did ye no come wi’ him, then?”

  “No, and he mustn’t know that I’m here! Pray, do not tell him, Neal.”

  “Most likely I willna see him,” Neal said with a shrug. “But if ye didna come wi’ him, how came ye here at all?”

  “I am married now, Neal. I married Sir Quinton Scott of Broadhaugh.”

  “Och, aye, I did hear summat about that.”

  “Is he well, Neal? Have they hurt him?”

  “Who?”

  “Sir Quinton, of course! Don’t be an apehead. He is a prisoner here.”

  “If he be here, mistress, I havena seen him. The only prisoner I ken aught about be the reiver, Rabbie Redcloak.”

  “They have the wrong man locked up, Neal. That so-called reiver is my husband. I was with him when they broke the truce and seized him.”

  By the way he opened his mouth, she knew that he wanted to contradict her. Doubtless, in whatever version he had heard, no one had broken truce. He did not speak, and she said quietly, “Please, Neal, tell me at least that he is well.”

  “Aye, he is that. That be his window yonder, second from the end at the top. Ye’ll no see him looking out, though. Yon window’s set too high in the wall.”

  “Have they at least fed him?”

  “They take him food now and again. Not that it be what he’s accustomed to if he be your husband, mistress. If he is, ye’d think Sir Hugh would ken him.”

  “He knows right well who he is,” she said indignantly, but this second mention of her brother reminded her that she was borrowing time. She would not have any chance to see Quinton, but she had learned what she had come to learn.

  “I must go, Neal. It would not do for any of Hugh’s people to see me, and you must promise me that you will say naught of this.”

  “I dinna talk much, mistress. Does no one ask me if I’ve spoken wi’ ye, I’ll no mention it on my own.”

  Thanking him, she remembered to hand him the basket of pies, smiling at his astonishment. Then, signing to Wee Toad to follow her, she hurried back into the outer bailey, and toward the postern gate. At a turning, she stepped aside to let two men-at-arms pass, and when she stepped forward again, a boy carrying a pair of boots darted in front of her, head down, too quickly for her to avoid bumping into him. When he looked up, she exclaimed aloud, for it was Meggie’s Andrew.

  Her astonishment was nothing compared to his. “Mistress Janet!”

  “Andrew, what are you doing here?”

  “I came wi’ Sir Hugh and Ned Rowan,” the boy said. “I didna tell them, Mistress Janet. I swear it. It was Scots what told. I were trying to warn ye.”

  Understanding that he meant he had not told anyone that he had heard men link Sir Quinton with Rabbie Redcloak, she said, “I never thought for a moment that you had repeated what you heard, Andrew. Wicked men started the rumors, and it was they who caused Sir Quinton to be taken. But where is Sir Hugh?”

  “I dinna ken. Ned Rowan sent me to fetch his boots from a cobbler in the High Street.” He hefted the pair he was carrying.

  “You must not tell anyone that you have seen me,” Janet said.

  “Nay, then, I won’t.”

  “Will you be going back to Brackengill soon?”

  “I think so. Sir Hugh and Ned Rowan be going to the races at Langholm on Saturday,” the boy said with a shrug, little realizing the effect his words had on her.

  By the time Janet and Wee Toad met Hob the Mouse outside the castle walls, instead of thinking that Hugh’s presence at Langholm would ruin everything, she had thought of a way to turn it to good account. So delighted was she with herself over this feat that it was a moment before she noted the expression on her larger protector’s face. When she did, she decided that it was an excellent thing that Hob held no authority over her.

  Wee Toad ducked behind her, and when it looked as if Hob might reach past her to grab the little man by his scrawny neck, Janet said, “We must not stand here. I have just learned that my brother is here, and it would not do for him to see me.”

  “Nay, then, it would not,” Hob growled. “I might be tempted to give ye to Sir Hugh as a wee gift. It is no my place to be tellin’ ye what to do, mistress, but ye should not ha’ given me such a fright.”

  Realizing that she had truly alarmed him, she apologized sincerely. “I did not think about what you might believe if I disappeared, Hob, but I knew that you would only argue with me if I did not. I discovered where they are keeping him.”

  He sighed, relaxing visibly. “I’ll no deny that’s a good thing, mistress, but I dinna want to be near when he learns wha
t ye did, or when Himself learns of it.”

  Striving to sound casual, she said as he lifted her to her saddle, “I do not think we need tell Himself just yet, you know. That knowledge, or lack of it, will scarcely alter any plan he makes for breaching the castle wall, and we do not want to make him so angry that he will command us to forget our mission altogether.”

  Hob’s awe of his liege lord was such that he proved difficult to convince, but the ride back to Liddesdale took time, and Janet was persuasive.

  They stopped briefly at Jess Armstrong’s and again in Tarrasdale so that Hob could pass along his rough estimate of the length required for the scaling ladders; but the threatening weather held off, and they made good time otherwise.

  On the ridge above Hermitage, Janet called a halt. “Now, remember, Hob,” she said, “you will tell Buccleuch only that the Bairns have agreed to his provisions if he will help set their master free. You must also tell him that you visited Carlisle long enough to estimate the height of the walls and have already taken the liberty of ordering men to build the scaling ladders.”

  “’Twas yourself gave that order, as I recall it,” the big man said sardonically.

  She smiled. “They want to please me, I think. Your Scottish Borderers have been extremely kind to me, Hob.”

  “They ken fine how the master feels about ye, mistress.”

  Feeling heat in her cheeks again, Janet said hastily, “They cannot know what he thinks of me. They merely do honor to their laird’s wife.”

  “Nay, then,” Hob said, his harsh features softening. “Ye’ve been gey kind to many of them and theirs, mistress, and they dinna forget kindness.”

  “We’ve no time for this,” she replied, feeling unfamiliar tightness in her throat. “Buccleuch will be waiting to hear from you, and Wee Toad can wait here with me. I promise, I will not leave you to face him alone for long.”

  “I dinna ken how ye will fool him in that dress, mistress.”

  “Only because you know where it came from,” Janet said. She had kept Jess Armstrong’s sister’s skirts, not bothering to disguise herself for the return journey except by bundling her distinctive hair into an oversized cap. Quinton’s people knew her now, and they would do her no harm.

  Hob did not look convinced, but if he had learned anything, he had learned the futility of argument. Touching his cap, he wheeled his pony and rode over the hill to Hermitage.

  Twenty minutes later, having edged their way round so as to approach from the direction of Broadhaugh, Janet and Wee Toad Bell followed. A little to her consternation, Buccleuch was in the great hall to greet them. He sat in a large armchair with his bad leg propped up before him on a cushioned bench.

  “I’ve been expecting you, lass,” he said, giving her a direct look.

  “Have you, sir?” She smiled. “I warrant you have learned that I do not possess much patience. I thought I would find Hob the Mouse returned to you by now, and so I came to hear his news.” Having carefully avoided presenting him with an outright falsehood, she tried to ignore the sense of guilt that stirred within her.

  His expression was unreadable. He said evenly, “Apparently the Bairns have agreed to follow him. I own, I did not believe he could be so persuasive.”

  “But that is excellent,” she said.

  “Indeed.” He turned to Hob and said in the same even tone, “You will have arrangements to make before Saturday, so get yourself some food. Then return to me in an hour and we will discuss exactly what I want you to do. Todrigg is here, and Gaudilands will come later. I’ll arrange for an escort to see her ladyship safely back to Broadhaugh. You can follow after we’ve had our talk.”

  Tempted though she was to protest being sent away, Janet held her tongue.

  “We’ll go upstairs,” Buccleuch said to her, signing to several of his men. With their help, and despite the logistical difficulties, he made it up the spiral staircase to the master’s hall, where they settled him again. Then, at his brusque command, they took themselves off, leaving Janet alone with him.

  For the first time since her arrival, instinct warned her of danger. Reminding herself that he was smaller than either Quinton or Hugh, that his injured leg made it unlikely that he could do her harm, she took a deep breath and let it out. It did no good whatsoever. Her nerves fluttered, her skin prickled, and her mouth felt dry.

  “So you rode over from Broadhaugh just to speak to Hob the Mouse, did you?” His tone was still matter-of-fact, but she was not fooled. Although she wanted very much to dampen her dry lips, she did not, nor did she reply.

  The silence lengthened until it became clear that he would wait for her.

  “Quinton is my husband, sir,” she said quietly at last.

  “You are a strange woman,” he replied, shaking his head.

  “If you mean that most women would wring their hands and weep, then wait helplessly for men to act, then perhaps I am strange,” she said.

  “Most women would show the good sense to realize that men are better suited to act,” he retorted, not bothering now to conceal his anger. “I will not ask you to tell me all you have done, and for that you may thank my deep affection for your husband. If I should learn the extent to which you persuaded men who owe me fealty to defy my commands, I should be forced to punish them, and I need them at their full strength just now. But I will not remain dependent upon others for long, lass. Remember that, and defy me again at your peril.”

  “Well, as to that, sir…”

  “There is no ‘as to that!’” he snapped. “You will do as I bid you.”

  “Forgive me, sir, but truly, I do not act out of defiance.”

  “Ah, Christ, lassie, I ken fine why you act, but you’re nobbut a bit lass. I want Quin free, but I’ll no want to face him if I’ve let you be harmed through failure to force your obedience.”

  “Please, sir, will you give me but fifteen minutes to explain my thoughts? I vow, if I cannot persuade you, I will do exactly as you bid me.”

  “You’ll do as you’re bid, regardless, for there is naught you can tell me that will alter my opinion.”

  “My brother Hugh will be at Langholm,” she said. “Doubtless he will have a number of his followers with him.”

  “Aye, and so what? ’Tis not unusual for men from both sides of the line to attend the races. How better to judge each other’s horseflesh? For all that it’s practically march treason to sell horses across the line, men do it all the time.”

  “Aye, sir, but my point is that my brother’s people are as loyal to me as they are to him, and it is not so unusual for women to attend the races. No one would think it odd to find me there, in any case. You see, I wrote to Lord Scrope a fortnight ago, begging his permission to visit Quinton.”

  “I know you did that, lass. I would not be who I am did I not ken fine how to keep an ear to the ground. I know also that he refused your request.”

  She wondered what else he knew, but pushed the discomfiting thought aside to say, “Then you must see that people will simply believe that I am still trying to get word of Quinton. I’ll have opportunity to talk with many Grahams, sir, and I’ll tell them what really happened. I have good cause to believe that many do not know the truth about how he was taken. Moreover, regardless of what you think of them, they will disapprove of breaking the truce. That certainly cannot hurt our cause.”

  To her surprise, he did not instantly order her to put all thought of attending the races out of her head. She even detected a twinkle in his eyes when he said, “I think I mentioned before that I am no fool, lass. What you say makes sense, but there is more, is there not? You, not Hob the Mouse, are the beacon round which Rabbie’s Bairns have gathered. ’Tis for you they will act and for you that they have agreed to obey men whom they consider to be less able leaders. It occurs to me that it will be helpful if they can manage to keep their purpose firmly in mind right up to the moment they gather to depart for Carlisle.”

  She hardly dared to breathe. It was as if he
had read her mind.

  “You may attend the races, lass,” he said at last. “I own, my worst fear has been that without a strong leader, Rabbie’s misfit Bairns may begin fighting amongst themselves, or simply ignore orders and thus bring the whole raid to naught. Your presence at the races will remind them why they are going to Carlisle. Hob the Mouse will pass word at Langholm of the place and time to meet Todrigg and Gaudilands. He’ll lead the Liddesdale men who are taking part.”

  “How many men will you send?” she asked.

  “The raiding party will not be large, less than a hundred men, but it will be large enough for the purpose. We want to get across the line without drawing too much notice, and I must see that Broadhaugh remains well guarded, too, you know.” She nodded, able to breathe easily again. A hundred men did not seem enough, but she knew a larger force would make her scheme less likely to succeed. Getting to the races would be just the beginning. While the plan passed from man to man, she would do her part while studiously ignoring Hugh and any Musgraves who were present. She did not think they would seek her out, and it would underscore for the rest of her kinsmen what she thought of their breaking the truce. After the races were over, wherever the little army gathered, her real work would begin.

  If Hob was surprised to learn that she had survived her confrontation with Buccleuch with her dignity intact, she could see no sign of it. When she informed him that she meant to attend the races, he said only, “Aye, Himself did tell me that.”

  Reassured, she said, “You will be gathering the men after, will you not?”

  “Aye.” He watched her with fascination.

  “I mean to be there, as well,” she said firmly. “Buccleuch agrees that the Bairns should see me there.” Buccleuch had not said that exactly, but she was certain that he would not object. Not to that part of her plan, at all events.

  She had expected to encounter resistance, and when she did not, her suspicions stirred. Buccleuch was not a man who would brook much defiance. Was it possible that he had taken steps to prevent her from putting her plan into action?

  Shortly before daybreak Saturday morning, when she descended to the bailey, despite assurances from Ardith that Hob and an armed escort were waiting to accompany her to Langholm, she half expected to find them already gone. They were there, however, and she saw at once by the number of arms they carried that, as she had expected, they meant to act swiftly after the races.