Border Fire(62)

Grinning, he shrugged, then moved to help her mount. "Will I tie this bundle to your saddle, mistress?"   





 

"If you please," she said, hoping he would not ask what it contained.

He did not. Nor did he ask what had become of Ardith, and again her suspicions stirred. Surely he wondered what she thought she was doing, riding nearly twenty miles from home without a female to attend her.

They had traveled nearly five of those miles before the sun peeked over the hills to the east. Janet, riding beside Hob at the head of their entourage, had made no attempt to initiate conversation. The men chatted amongst themselves, but Hob seemed lost in thought.

"There are rather a lot of clouds," she said at last, casting an eye skyward.

"Aye, it rained again in the night," he said. "Likely it will tonight, too."

She looked directly at him. "How many of these men are you expecting to send back with me tonight?"

Returning her look, he said, "As many as ye require, mistress."

Uncertainty flooded through her. Was he daring to threaten her?

"I told you," she said, "I mean to go to the gathering place."

"Aye, Tromble's Tower. That's where we're all to meet."

"You'll not try to stop me?"

"Nay, mistress. Himself said I were no to fratch wi' ye."

"What else did he say?" she demanded suspiciously.

"He said to give ye your head," Hob said.

"He didn't!"

"Aye, then, he did. He said he could order ye locked up, but ye'd most likely just find a way out and get yourself in a worse scrape."

"I'd get out, at all events," Janet agreed.

"Aye, well, he said it's no our job to put ye in a cage. Our job, he said, is to get the master free so that he can deal with ye."

Certain that she heard a note of satisfaction in his tone, Janet did not press the issue further. He would not stop her, and that was enough. If her blood chilled a little at the thought of facing Quinton afterward, she ignored it.

It was an hour before sundown when they gathered, more than a hundred strong. Janet, in the breeks and boots she had carried in her bundle, and wearing a jack of plate like many of the others, draped her heavy cloak over her saddle bow to accept the golden-brown steel bonnet that Ally the Bastard handed her. The helmet gleamed from regular polishing with sheep fat. It was uncomfortable to wear, but she had twisted her long hair into a topknot to serve as a cushion.

Ally the Bastard said curiously, "Why the bonnet, mistress?"

"I am going with you," she said.

As word of her reply spread rapidly through the gathering, she heard gruff protests and swearing.

"Hear me," she cried. "I must go. Carlisle Castle is immense, and I am the only one who. knows exactly where they are keeping Sir Quinton prisoner."

"Aye, that's true," Hob the Mouse shouted.

"Just tell us where he is, mistress!"

"I cannot do that unless someone amongst you already knows the interior of the castle well enough to understand my directions. Moreover, I can find my way more easily than I can describe it."

More grumbling greeted her words, but there were no more overt protests.

She fastened the strap of her helmet carefully, then turned to Hob the Mouse. "Will that do?"

"Aye, mistress," he said with a chuckle.

"Sweet Jesu," Wee Toad Bell exclaimed, shaking his head. "The master will have all our heads for this!"

"Only mine," Janet told him.

Hob stood in his stirrups and waved. "Lads, can ye hear me?"

"Aye," they shouted.

Janet surveyed the army she was rapidly coming to think of as her own. Ally the Bastard had assembled his scouts-mostly Armstrongs-a short distance to her right. To her left, men of the fighting party helped Todrigg's assault group tie the long scaling ladders, two to a pony. They also loaded them with crowbars, pickaxes, sledgehammers, shovels, and other tools-anything that might be helpful to break down walls or gates-or to undermine them, if necessary.

"Ye all ken our plan," Hob shouted. "Ally the Bastard will captain the scouts! The fighting party will ride next wi' me, the Laird o' Gaudilands, and the mistress. The Laird o' Todrigg will follow wi' the main body. They'll be carrying the ladders and assault tools, ye ken, so we canna get far from them."

A roar greeted him, and Janet grinned at their increasing enthusiasm. After a moment, she held up a hand for silence. When it grew quiet again, she shouted, "Can you hear me?"

"Aye," they roared.

"Remember, everyone, this is a rescue, not a raid. There must be no plundering tonight."   





 

Exaggerated moans and groans answered her.

She waited until the noise had died to muttering.

"Hear me well, all you Bairns," she shouted then, wanting to be certain that no man among them could claim later that he had not heard her. "No one is to lay violent hands on any townsman or any woman. No man is to take so much as a stone from Carlisle Castle or injure one of its inmates without strong provocation. Anyone who does will answer both to Sir Quinton and to Buccleuch. Put plainly, lads, there must be no murder or mayhem. We are simply reclaiming one of our own who was captured in violation of the truce."

This time the silence continued after she stopped speaking. A moment passed during which she felt tempted to look to Gaudilands or to Hob the Mouse for reassurance, but she did not. Instead she shouted, "Do I have your word on it, lads?"

"Aye," they shouted back.

"Your word as Borderers?"

"Aye!" This time their response was lustier, and cheers followed. Satisfied, she nodded to Ally the Bastard, who spurred his mount and rode off at a gallop, followed by his ten scouts. Even before they had disappeared from sight, Janet saw them begin to spread out, each man taking a separate route.

Flanked by Hob and Gaudilands, she followed Ally at a slower but steady pace, with the others falling in behind. The sun was just touching the western horizon, shooting rays under the ominous-looking cloud bank overhead, setting the billowy clouds afire with orange and red. As the company rode, the sky darkened, and they reached the line at the river Esk as the last colors faded, making it too gloomy to see the famous reddish cast of the Esk sand on its banks.

Not until Janet's horse stepped from damp sand into the water did she look back. Excitement and pride in equal measure filled her when she saw again the host of riders following them. As she crossed from Scotland into England, she understood as she never had before Quinton's powerful enthusiasm for raiding.





Chapter 23


"But 'twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet,

When we came beneath the castle wa'."

DARKNESS CLOSED AROUND THE riders. Black clouds hid the moon, and gusting wind shook trees and shrubbery and sent the temperature plunging, but the gathering storm thrilled Janet nearly as much as the steady drumming of hoofbeats behind her. Buccleuch's plan counted on another dismal night, and the hoped-for bad weather certainly threatened. It would rain soon, and they still had six miles of hostile territory to cross before they reached Carlisle.

Her blood raced, and when the first pellets of sleet stung her cheeks, she felt an impulse to cry, "We'll have moonlight again!" Only her awareness that enemies might be lurking nearby kept her still.

They rode on, pushing with surprising quiet into the southern moss, but their pace soon slowed to a walk. The night winds grew more savage, howling as they swept unchecked across King Moor, and darkness was complete. Without so much as a star, let alone a good Border moon, the pace seemed agonizingly slow, but greater speed would endanger not only the men but their cause as well.

Not long after crossing the Esk, Ally the Bastard sent a man back to tell them that the way was clear, and to warn them not to overrun his scouts, who were also, perforce, moving slowly. After that, a scout reported every half hour and remained with them until the next report came before riding ahead again. The only good thing about the slow pace was that the assault group could easily keep up with them. It would do them no good to arrive hours before the laden ponies did, because they would only have to wait for them.

The dark, rainy night provided excellent cover, Janet knew, and so she did not mind the horrid weather. Even when sleet mixed with the rain pelting down in sheets, and lightning flashed and thunder boomed like cannon fire, her steel bonnet and heavy, silk-lined cloak protected her from the worst of the chill.

Although it was only six miles from the Esk, they took the best part of the night to cover the distance to Stanwix Bank, but thanks to the weather, they did so without meeting anyone. Most sensible people had taken cover from the storm.

At last they reached the line of bluffs rearing above the north bank of the Eden, and in the glare of jagged lightning bolts got their first view of Carlisle. When the sky darkened again, Janet turned to Gaudilands. Over rolling thunder, she shouted, "How long till dawn?"

"Two hours, as near as I can reckon it," he shouted back.

"The river looks dangerously flooded!"

"Aye," he said.

With each flash of lightning, even through the driving, sleet-filled rain, she could see frothing whitecaps on roiling water as they descended the slippery track from the bluffs. The nearer they rode, the more her imagination threatened to undo her. Her pony would never make it across. They could all be swept into Solway Firth and out to sea. Sensible people would turn back. Then she thought of Quinton, imprisoned and miserable inside the great castle, the massive walls of which loomed darkly on the southern horizon. She could not abandon him, nor could she let these faithful, determined men know how frightened she was.