Border Fire(53)

"It does not do to be too sure of such things," the woman said wisely.

Janet agreed with her, but she was glad to see old acquaintances again and felt certain that because of the truce, nothing untoward would happen. Enjoying the company of women from both sides of the line, she paid little heed to the trials as they proceeded. Just as one of the older women was suggesting that the men would soon call a halt so they could eat their dinner, she saw another old friend.

"Andrew, is that you?"

The boy was with several men, and when she called to him he glanced at her, then glanced away again.

She recognized one of the men with whom the boy stood as a friend of Hugh's. The man took a step toward her, then seemed to change his mind, and she remembered her ubiquitous escort. When she looked over her shoulder to see Quinton's two men frowning, their hands on their daggers, she sighed. It explained, however, why Hugh's friend was walking away without speaking to her.

Andrew, too, had turned away.

"Andrew, come here. I want to talk to you."

Hesitating only a moment, the boy strode to meet her. Touching his cap, he bade her good day, his dignified manner telling her that he wanted people to think him older than his years.   





 

Concealing her amusement, she said, "What are you doing here, my lad?"

"I come to see them bluidy Scotch reivers, is what," he replied grimly.

"And what else have you seen?"

He looked directly at her, and his eyes lit with pleasure more in keeping with his age. He said, "I seen a lamb with two heads, Mistress Janet. Did ye see it?"

"I did," she acknowledged. "How fares your mam? Is she here today?"

"Nay, she's wi' the bairns. We got a new one since ye left. It's nobbut a lass, though, and a puling one at that. Sir Hugh himself helped wi' her birthin', though."

"Hugh did?" Janet was amazed.

"Aye, there were none else to help, so I fetched 'im, and then he sent Ned Rowan to look after the place, 'cause he said we needed a man about. I could ha' taken care of 'em," he added resentfully. "I dinna like Ned Rowan. He's sweet on me mam, but she doesna want him."

"Then she need not have him," Janet said kindly.

"Sir Hugh says she will, though, unless she wants to go to Brackengill and look after him instead. All them women at the castle left when ye did, Mistress Janet, and their men willna let them go back."

"Oh, dear," Janet said, knowing that if her departure alone had not infuriated her brother, the circumstances that resulted from it must have done so.

"Aye," Andrew said. "Be it true, then, that the reiver carried ye off, like they say he did?"

"Aye, true enough," she said.

"They do say it were Rabbie Redcloak that took ye and that ye married wi' him. Be that true, as well?"

Janet's breath caught in her throat. Before she could think of something sensible to say, she was startled to hear her brother's grim voice behind her.

"Janet, I want to speak to you."

Turning to see Hugh striding toward her, she noted with relief that he could not have heard Andrew's remark. She bent quickly to say in a low voice, "Andrew, what you heard is not true, and you must not tell anyone that it is. Promise me!"

"But I-"

"Run along, lad," Hugh said curtly. "I want to speak to Lady Scott."

Andrew looked puzzled, and Janet said, "That is my name now, Andrew. Go now, and remember to tell your mam that I think of her often."

As the boy took to his heels, disappearing into the crowd, Hugh said, "What were you talking to him about?"

"He told me that you helped Jock's Meggie when her time came," she said calmly. "That was kind of you, Hugh."

"Aye, it was," he agreed. "It was a damned nuisance, as well."

"He also said that you sent Ned Rowan to look after the place. Meggie does not like Ned, however, and won't marry him. You will have to find someone else."

"That is not for you to say, Janet. I'll do what I think best. Are you well?"

"You can see that I am," she replied, accepting the change of subject. "Thank you for agreeing to the marriage. It was the best course, I think."

"It was the only course," he said bluntly. "One day we'll talk about your part in the reiver's escape, lass. I know well that you are not blameless, but this is no place to talk." His tone promised that the future conversation would not be pleasant.

Before she could reply, one of his men shouted that the clerk was ready to call the proceedings to order again, and Janet felt only relief at having the conversation curtailed. Clearly, it was no time to mention her dowry to him.

She was sorry, however, that she would not have time to speak to Quinton before he had to resume his duties. She would have liked to tell him what Andrew had said. There was no hurry, though. The truce would keep him safe long enough to return to the safety of Hermitage or Broadhaugh. She would tell him then.

Quin and Sir Hugh had no sooner taken seats again than the clerk called the next bill: "Sir Edward Nixon accuses Arch and Will Crosier of taking eight head of kine and six horses from Bewcastle. Accused and accuser, step forth and be heard!"

Sir Edward Nixon, a richly attired gentleman known to everyone there, was the first to obey. The clerk recited the accuser's oath, to which Sir Edward declared loudly, "I do so swear it, by God."

The two accused strode forward next, and when the clerk had recited the oath, they looked at each other and muttered gruffly in unison, "Aye."

The clerk turned to the wardens. "The accused are quit by their own oaths."

Silence blanketed the crowd, and Quin could not wonder at it. The two Crosier brothers, kin to Curst Eckie of that ilk, were a pair of thieving scoundrels known the length and breadth of the Borders on both sides of the line. He was not surprised when Sir Hugh, with a glint of amusement in his eyes, said, "Can any other man avow the innocence of this worthy pair?"   





 

Concealing his own amusement, Quin was about to shout the question to all and sundry when Will Crosier-known fondly to his friends as Ill Wild Will-said, "There be two wha' will speak for us. Rob and Martin Armstrong will."

Chuckles rippled through the crowd, and seeing the two men whom Ill Wild Will had named standing near the front, Quin beckoned to them.

"Will the pair of you avow the innocence of these two men?"

"Aye, I will," Martin Armstrong declared, jutting forth his bearded chin as if to defy anyone to question his sworn word. "By Christ's wounds, I will."

Meeting that defiant gaze, Quin held it for a long moment, then turned to Robert Armstrong. "Rob, will you avow the innocence of these two?"

Rob looked at the ground and scratched his chin whiskers for a long moment while the crowd seemed to hold its collective breath. Then he looked at Quin.

Quin returned the look steadily.

Rob's gaze slithered away and inched back. He drew a deep breath, avoided looking at anyone but Quin, and said quietly, "Nay then, I'll no forswear m'self before God Almighty to summat I dinna ken to be true."

Quin said, "Then under the truce this bill will be declared proven."

"Christ's blood," Ill Wild Will swore. "We've our three oaths against one!"

Quin glanced at Sir Hugh, then back at the accused. His voice carrying easily, he said, "We have weighed your three oaths against Sir Edward's, Will, and we find yours the weaker." To Sir Edward, he said, "Will you accept payment, sir?"

"I will for the cattle," Sir Edward said. "I want the horses back if you can get them. As you have seen by my declaration, they are particularly valuable beasts."

"We will see what can be done," Quin promised. "You have my word."

The Crosiers looked unhappy, but they did not debate the decision, and business continued until the last grievance against the Scots had been decided. A number of bills remained unsettled against the English, but when Quin suggested calling an end, Sir Hugh nodded in agreement.

"These others will hold till next time," he said, "and Scrope will be glad that you suggested it. He reminded me that even though the law says we should deal with all the grievances that have been filed, it is wiser to settle bill-for-bill. As to the imbalance in amounts favoring England today, that need not concern us. Our side always pays up promptly, after all, and will doubtless do so this time long before your Liddesdale lot pays a jot of its share."

Quin recognized the comment as provocation and ignored the temptation to remind him that more grievances had been filed against the English. That could change by the next wardens' meeting, and besides, he knew that what Sir Hugh had said was true. It was not only that Liddesdale did not like to pay, though. Generally speaking, the Liddesdale men were less able to pay than their English counterparts were. Keeping these thoughts to himself, he began to put away his papers.

Little remained to do beyond allowing the clerk to read their joint proclamation of what the day had accomplished and to name a date for the next meeting. Having achieved the first task easily and the second with less conviction-surprising no one, since everyone knew there would be much haggling over that date or any other-the clerk declared the day's business at an end.

The acting wardens charged their followers to keep the peace until the next Truce Day, then made their farewells to the assembly. As trumpets sounded and the crowd began moving away to collect belongings and prepare to depart, the clerk said to Quin and Sir Hugh, "I shall make fair copies of the order of business for each of you. And since neither of your principals was here, I shall make copies for them, too, and will send them all as soon as I have completed them."