by Griff Hosker
Geordie shook his head, “I’ll take you tomorrow and get you that horse.”
“Thanks. Would it be alright if I left my chest here? I can take a spare set of clothes in the saddlebags.”
“Of course. You’ll be back this way then?”
“Yes Betty.”
She seemed inordinately pleased by that. “Well I’ll make sure the bed is aired the next time and we’ll have some proper Geordie food too.”
I looked at her curiously. “Food for Geordie?”
They both laughed, “Nay bonnie lad. Geordie is what we say for people around here, Newcastle way. We are all Geordies. The big fellah here gets called that because he is from Newcastle. He wasna christened that.”
Geordie became serious, “And don’t you be telling him what my real name is or you’ll get the back of my hand.”
She laughed, “Don’t listen to him Robbie. He wouldn’t dream of touching me or the bairns but I won’t tell you, at least not yet.” She winked at me and gave Geordie a cheeky grin.
I bought a beautiful horse the next day. I thought it was an incredibly cheap beast but the looks Geordie gave the man who sold him to us made me doubt that. He was called Badger. His name was obvious for he was black with a white mane. I had never thought that I would replace Killer but Badger managed that.
Geordie was really concerned about me travelling across the country. “There are some robbing bastards out there so be careful when you go to bed. They will steal the coins from a corpse.”
“Geordie, I appreciate your concern but I am going into this with my eyes open. I promise you that I will return to your lovely home, your wonderful wife and your delightful children.”
He seemed taken aback, “You really think that?”
“Of course, Geordie, and I envy you. You are a lucky man.”
He nodded and his eyes welled up. “I know. You take care now.”
“I will and thank you again.”
The road west was an easy one to follow. It was an old Roman Road called the Military Way and it went as straight as a die to the west. For most of the way it followed the old Hadrian’s Wall. That was the wall that kept the barbarians from Britannia. Geordie had said it was built with good reason. To listen to him the Scots were safer when contained behind a wall. Geordie had told me to stay in Haltwhistle which was about half way across the country. He did not know any inns nor did he have any relatives who might give me a room. He was most apologetic that he could not help me more. For me the journey was an eye opener. The land was totally different to any country I had seen before. It undulated gently passing through delightful villages and thickly wooded land. The taverns were frequent and all served fine ale. The first I called at was the George at Chollerford. The Roman fort nearby was a reminder of the past and I wondered about visiting the ruins some time. The food and the ale in the inn were so cheap and wholesome that I wondered how they could make a profit. The landlord and his wife held the same views as Geordie; all the folk to the west were not to be trusted. I smiled as I headed west. The northern people were very parochial and mistrusted their neighbours. I was enjoying my journey.
Haltwhistle was the largest place I had seen since Newcastle. It had a single street lined with houses and inns. I chose the Dog and Gun, mainly because it looked to have a good stable and I wanted Badger looked after. Here I was an object of curiosity. Few visitors crossed this land and I had to answer many questions. I was not interrogated but they wanted to know why I was crossing their land. I found it easiest to keep to the truth or as near to the truth as I could. I told them that I had not been born in Scotland but my mother had and I was returning out of sentiment to see the land of her birth. They all seemed to accept that but warned me of the people to the west who were not to be trusted.
The road from Haltwhistle was the most dramatic land I had travelled since the mountains of Italy. How the Romans had built their roads and walls I had no idea. But soon I was in the verdant valley of the Eden and almost in Scotland. Carlisle is a huge city; it is as big as Newcastle and here I made my second stop. Perhaps I had been prepared for it but whatever the reason I felt ill at ease in that city. The people did seem less friendly, the food not as good and the beer poorer. I was glad to leave and to head north for the first time. Within a few hours I was in Scotland.
I headed for Dumfries. I was not sure of my next stay because Geordie had only had enough information to take me to Carlisle; after that he was lost. I had a map, although how accurate it was I had no idea. I estimated that it could be almost sixty miles to Kilmarnock which marked the end of mainland Scotland. Badger seemed to be in no distress and so I pushed on. I ate in Dumfries and was, again, warned about those to the north who were not to be trusted. Since Carlisle I had travelled with two loaded pistols. This time the land was much like Austria; there were forests, lakes, steep climbs and even steeper drops. It took its toll and I was aware that I would not reach the coast before dark. I pushed on because I was keen to deliver the seal. Kilmarnock was a few miles from the coast and it would have to be my next destination.
I could see the distant lights of the town when I felt danger. Badger was nervous and he had not been nervous thus far. As a precaution I took a pistol from my holster and held the reins in my left hand. I slowed Badger right down. I knew, from the times that I had done it, that when you were waiting to ambush someone any delay added to your nervousness. I could see the town; by my estimate it was five miles ahead, it would not make any difference to me if I reached it an hour or two or even three. I would still have a bed for the night and the largest part of the journey would be done. I stopped looking at the lights of the town. They would ruin my night vision. Instead I peered into the forest. I was, fortunately, on a Roman Road which meant the trees had been cut back for some distance on both sides. Unfortunately it meant that the horse’s hooves rattled on the cobbles. I took Badger to the softer ground to the side of the road which effectively silenced my sounds.
Once there was silence I could listen for the noises of the forest and my fears were confirmed when I heard nothing. There should have been animals. I edged, rather than rode, forward. I was looking for shapes in the dark which would indicate an ambush. I slowly cocked my pistol. I had found that if you did that gently it made almost no sound. Badger was going so slowly that he was barely moving. Then I saw the shape of a man. He was not on a horse but he had something in his hand. I halted Badger and scanned beyond the man. There were three others. There were two on the far side of the road and two within fifty paces of me. Had this been Killer I would have taken two pistols out and used both but Badger, good horse though he was, was an unknown quantity. I kicked on and he moved forward. I estimated that I could shoot one, possibly two, and then I would be reliant upon my sword. I was also aware that I did not know how many other men were ahead. I halted and listened.
They were ill disciplined and I heard one voice speak. It sounded Scottish. “Mebbe, he’s turned around. I canna hear him.”
“Hamish, shut your mouth or I will shoot you meself!”
That confirmed that they meant me harm and I felt better about what I did next. I rode forwards and aimed my pistol at the man on the far side of the road. I fired and then drew my second pistol. I had kept Badger moving and suddenly there was a man ten yards from me. I fired and his head disappeared. I holstered my pistol and drew my sword. The second man on my right side ran at me with a huge sword. I jinked Badger to the right and then to the left. He took the bait and swung at where I had been. I slashed down and felt the sword bite into his arm. He screamed and fell behind me. I regained the road. I heard a musket fire but the ball whizzed through the trees to the right. The ambush of the bandits had failed.
When I reached Kilmarnock I was pleased to see that it was of a similar size to Carlisle. They expressed surprise that I had travelled after dark. “Aye, yon woods are full of bandits. You were lucky mister.”
I smiled to myself; I was a horseman of France and we di
d not need luck. We knew how to fight. I was more tired than I had been for some time. The travelling and the tension had taken it out of me but the landlord told me that I could get a ferry from Ardrossan to Aran. The ferry was but ten miles away and I could rest Badger on the boat. My journey would now be broken down into ferries and islands but I was getting close to the heart land of the Macgregors. I discovered that I needed to be at Bowmore on Islay where the present clan chief lived. No one seemed willing to speak about the Macgregors and I did not push my luck. They all confirmed that the clan chief lived in isolation at Bowmore. I just said I was keen to visit the islands for personal reasons. They might have suspected my intentions but none of them appeared willing to question me further.
The islands were rugged, treeless and, as far as I could see devoid of any people. I felt untroubled for I could see miles ahead and there was no hint of bandits. The ferries seemed to operate whenever a customer came and I had gold which afforded me good service. I did not know if they were robbing me, there were no prices displayed but I had to get to Islay anyway. The price was immaterial.
Finally, at dusk I arrived on Islay. This was the land of the Macgregors and I felt a shiver as Badger stepped from the wooden boat onto dry land. The island was low and seemed uninhabited. The ferryman had told me that my destination lay on the southern coast and there was but one road. I headed down that road. I was eager to cover the last eight miles to the home of my mother’s family.
When I reached it I saw that the house was more of a fortified mansion. There was a stream with a bridge and then the main door. The seal had seemed inordinately heavier for the last hundred miles. I had worn it since Malta and I was used to the weight but, somehow, the closer it came to its home, the heavier it became. It was a smaller house than I imagined and when I reined Badger in outside the front door I began to worry that this was the wrong place. It looked too small to be the home of the clan chief and yet ever since I had left the mainland I had been told that Old Macgregor was the clan chief and he lived at Bowmore. It had been as inevitable as the tide that the man I would soon meet would be the head of the clan and yet I now doubted it. I had contemplated changing my clothes just before I reached the house as I was expecting something grander but I was now glad that I had not wasted the time.
I strode up to the door and banged the lion’s head knocker. The sound seemed to echo in the house. I wondered if it was even occupied. The door swung open and a dour faced giant towered over me. He was not the liveried butler I had expected. “What do you want!” he snarled aggressively.
I was a little taken aback by his rudeness. “I am here to see the head of the Clan Macgregor.”
“And who would you be, wee man?”
“I am Captain Robert Macgregor.”
He laughed and said, “Are you making fun of me.” He began to close the door. “Now be off with ye!”
I had not travelled all the way from Sicily to be put sent packing by a lout. I put my shoulder to the door and rammed with all my power. He was not expecting that and he tumbled to the ground and lay prostrate on the ground. My sword was out in an instant and I jammed the point to his throat.
“Now listen to me you rude and unpleasant lout. I have travelled thousands of miles to come here to my kinsman and deliver a precious object to him. I will not be put off by a servant such as you!”
I heard a voice coming from a nearby room, “What is it William?”
The man on the ground shouted, “It’s some lunatic calling himself Robert Macgregor!”
“I have warned you about your tongue. If you cannot keep a civil tongue in your head then I may remove it and your master will have to get another servant.”
A frail old man appeared, “Would you be so good as to let my son up please young man and explain yourself.”
“Who are you? I told your son here who I was before I was treated worse than a beggar at the door.”
“I am Robert Macgregor, the head of the Clan Macgregor, and this is my son William.”
I dropped the tip of my sword. “I am sorry I did not know but I am Robert Macgregor and I believe I am a kin of this family.”
“Let us go into the room where there is a decent fire.”
As he led me through I realised that he had not mentioned my horse and where he should be stabled. This was not the welcome I had anticipated. The old man gestured to a chair and he sat, almost in the fire itself. His scowling son sat on the chair next to him, facing me.
“Now then tell me your story and I will decide if you are kin or not.”
“My mother was Marie Macgregor and she was the daughter of Alistair Macgregor.” I saw them both stiffen and start when I mentioned that name. The old man gestured with his arm and William sat back down. “He was the son of Robert Macgregor who followed Bonnie Prince Charlie to France.”
The old man poked the fire violently and then turned his gaze upon me. “William here had the right idea when he saw you! You are not welcome here.”
I was confused. “Why not? Have I come to the wrong clan?”
“No this is where your great grandfather lived. My father and he were brothers. I was named after your grandfather.”
Now I was even more confused than I had been. “Then this is his family so why am I not welcome?”
“Because Robert Macgregor was a bad bastard. My grandmother adored him and would do anything for him.” He swept his arm around the room. “You see this here? Once, this hall was filled with lights, fine furniture and servants. We were well off and respectable. Then your grandfather followed that dissolute, drunken Prince and spent the family fortune. Even when he went to France he kept sending for money and my grandmother kept sending it. She died of a broken heart and my father died soon after. That left just William and me. So you see you are not welcome here! Now leave!”
William grinned and I stood. “Very well but first I will do what I promised I would do and fulfil my oath to a knight of St.John.” I took off my jacket and undid my shirt. I took off the canvas belt and removed the Great Seal. I handed it to the old man.
If I thought his attitude would change I was wrong. “And now it is returned by the great grandson of the man who stole it.”
I shook my head, “Neither my grandfather nor my mother had anything to do with this. We are innocent.”
“No laddie. The bad blood of Robert Macgregor courses through your veins.” He suddenly stopped. “How are you Robert Macgregor? What is your father’s name?”
“My father was the Count de Breteuil but he never married my mother and so I took her name.”
“Well you have no right to it. I disown you. You are not a Macgregor! I may not have the pleasure of hurting your great grandfather but I can, at least, hurt his blood. Now go!”
I would not have stayed longer had he begged me. I was so angry that if either of them had done or said anything I would have killed them both. I mounted Badger as the rain began to pelt. It seemed fitting that I left in a storm. The two of them stood in the doorway grinning with malicious pleasure at my discomfort.
“You are a pair of wicked old men and I am glad that you have disowned me. From this day forth I am no longer a Macgregor and I hope you rot your empty sad days out in this ruin!”
The door slammed shut with an ominous finality. I had no home in Scotland. If I thought that I would have a happy ending to this story I was wrong. Any plans I might have had ended with the slamming of the door. I turned Badger around and we headed across the bleak island which suddenly seemed less beautiful and more unfriendly than when I had left the ferry. We trudged our way back to the place I had disembarked. There was no ferry and it was night time. Badger and I huddled beneath a lone tree and spent a sleepless cold night awaiting the boat. The lack of sleep and the cold helped me to formulate my thoughts. I had no future in Scotland. I would return to Sicily. At least there I had a family who liked me and wanted me. I would become a business man and make money from my share of a ship. It was not the excitin
g life of a chasseur but it was better than this.
I took my time returning across the backbone of Britain. I almost wished that bandits would attack me for I wanted to take my anger out on someone. I even contemplated turning my horse around and going back to Castle Bowmore and killing my relatives. The memory of my mother stopped me. I was no longer Robert Macgregor and I couldn’t be Robert Breteuil. I needed a new name. I ran through all the names of the people I knew but I could not steal a man’s family. In the end I chose one of my friend’s first names. I would become Robert Matthews. I would still have the same initials and I was sure that the captain would not mind. It would be another new start.
As I headed towards the Tyne I realised that I now had much to do. I needed to establish my identity. Mr Fortnum and Mr Hudson knew me, legally, as Macgregor. I would have to get to London and make the changes. Then I would head back to Sicily. As I rode towards the North Sea, I began to feel better about my future.
Chapter 18
Geordie was still at sea when I reached his house. I apologised when Betty told me. “I am sorry Mrs Percy I will take accommodation at an inn.”
She looked appalled. “Why? Have I upset you in some way?”
“No, of course not, dear lady; it just would not look right for you to have a single man staying with you while your husband is away.”
She began laughing so hard that tears poured down her rosy cheeks. “Don’t be daft! Geordie would have a fit and besides my neighbours know me.” She dried her eyes, “I am flattered mind. Now I have aired your room and washed your clothes. Go and get changed and I will wash those too.”
I felt better in clean clothes. She took my bundle. “Supper won’t be ready for an hour or so. Why not go to the pub? There’ll be some of Geordie’s mates there.”
“Don’t you need any help?”
“Bless you. Geordie doesn’t even know where the kitchen is let alone helping. No you go and have a pint in the pub and your food will be ready when you return.”
