The Tweedie Passion (8 page)

'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.

'What are you doing?' I asked.

'Muffling any sound,' he said, moving across to his own horse to do the same. 'Now keep behind me and keep very quiet.'

I took a deep breath, wondered if I had made the correct choice in venturing into Liddesdale, and followed. We padded downhill, following a sheep track that seemed to favour the steepest parts of the incline. I kept my eye on the shadowy shape of Hugh as he negotiated the hillside, passing from the steep upper slopes to the sides of the tilled ridges, whose crops were not yet gathered despite the lateness of the season. No doubt the men of Liddesdale had more important things to do that gather their crops, such as abducting stray women.

Somewhere a dog barked, the sound waking others so their sharp yapping echoed through the night. By now I knew to stop at any sounds: we were less visible motionless. Harsh shouts quietened the dogs. Silence returned, cracked only by the faint lowing of cattle and the rustle of sheep moving in the outfields. We moved on, slowly, cautiously, two hunted people moving across the realm of the hunter, the prey passing the den of the lion, the mouse thumbing his nose at the home of the cat. And my bottom still ached damnably, despite my fancy new saddle.

There were many more habitations along the valley floor and on the lower hill slopes than I had expected. Most were small, little more than huts, cottages with dry-stone walls and roofs of heather-thatch, with the dung-piles and peat stacks outside.

'Wait.' Hugh hissed the words and pulled my horse into the shadow of a farmstead. I heard the hoof beats a moment later and watched as a body of horsemen passed us, driving a small herd of ragged cattle. I knew they had been reiving, possibly across the Border in England, or up in Teviotdale. They moved silently, professional thieves engaged on their lawless business. That was what Liddesdale was infamous for; that was how these people lived.

We waited until the reivers were passed and moved on. I felt slightly sick, with my heart pounding and my mouth dry, yet I knew that, despite my fear, I would not have missed this for all the world. I was living, I was out in the world, sharing experiences with a vibrant man and I would relive these days again and again in the years to come. I would tell my children and grandchildren of the time that Hugh Veitch and I crossed the Tarras Moss and Liddesdale despite every effort of the Armstrongs to capture us.

If I lived of course.

And if we had grandchildren, Robert and I.

The Liddel Water ran down the centre of the valley. Swollen with autumnal rains, it was fast and deep and dark and dangerous. I hesitated at the approach, until Hugh took hold of Kailzie's bridle and led the way, easing his horse into the water. I heard the rattle of hooves against loose stones, felt Kailzie shudder as she slipped on the greasy bottom and gasped as Hugh guided me over. There was a single moment of doubt as we mounted the northern bank and then both horses were on dry land, legs and underbellies dripping and the worst of Liddesdale behind us. I allowed myself to breathe again and gave Hugh a broad smile. He lifted a hand in response as he glanced around him, his eyes wary and mobile.

There were lights ahead, a small group of houses set within a stone wall, the dark shape of a rowan tree placed to ward off witches and a squat peel tower. I swear I saw the silhouette of a man on the roof with a steel morion on his head and a spear balanced over his shoulder.

'We have to pass that,' Hugh said softly. 'It is the only route.'

I nodded, feeling the thrill of increased danger. Hugh would get us through; I had faith in him like I had in no other man. I closed my eyes, knowing that I should not think that. I was being disloyal to Robert and disloyalty was the worst of all crimes in the Border litany. Theft, robbery, reiving, assault, hamesucken, even murder was allowed, but loyalty was paramount. Loyalty to the surname, the valley and the husband or wife was what mattered.

It was my wandering thoughts that caused the trouble. Kailzie had a mind of her own; she sensed my lapse of concentration and decided to go her own way rather than mine; a hay-stall outside the peel-tower proved more attractive than my desires and the horse pulled to the side. Taken by surprise I hauled on the reins, Kailzie voiced her objection with a loud neigh and a stamping of her hind legs and the sound carried in the night.

'Who's that?' The watchman called from atop of tower roof. 'State your business in the Liddel Peel!'

I did not need Hugh to warn me to keep quiet. Suddenly all the excitement and drama of the night had vanished and pure naked fear had taken its place. I felt one of Hugh's hard hands clamp over my mouth as the other took hold of Kailzie's reins.

We stopped, standing still in the slight shadow of the peel tower with the sinister slither of the Liddle Water a spear's throw behind us and the rising slopes of the hills inviting escape to the north.

'State your name and business!' That harsh voice sounded again, and then came the insistent clamour of a warning bell as the sentry shouted a warning.

'To arms Liddel Peel! Intruders at the gate!'

'Run!' Hugh released my mouth and reins. 'Gallop for your life and don't stop for anything!'

I heard the clatter of feet from within the gaunt tower, heard men shouting and the clash of equipment and I kicked in my spurs and headed for the high hills. Before I had ridden fifty yards the great door of Liddle Peel was open and a deluge of horsemen clattered out. I had time for one single glance behind me and saw a sight that I knew would haunt me for the remainder of my life, however short that time may be.