The Forest Laird(182)
The ensuing alarm was short lived, though, and turned quickly to laughter when it became clear that I had simply suffered a cramp. Alan muttered something about priests spending too much time on their knees and their backsides, and wondered aloud why it should be strange that their muscles complained of inactivity by twisting into cramps. I remember feeling rather shamefaced as I massaged the feeling back into my leg, and then I hopped down and walked beside the wagons, hobbling for the first few minutes but soon striding easily. I felt euphoric for a short time after that, wanting to run in my exuberance, in sheer celebration of being me and of being alive and of being away, for a brief time at least, from the responsibilities of my priestly life.
Striding out in front, I was a good hundred yards ahead of the wagons as I came to the brow of a little hill, no more than a slight rise in the road. As I breasted it, I saw one of Robertson’s archers jogging along the road towards me. I was not alarmed, for the archers were seldom far beyond our sight, but there was something about the way he was coming that brought me to a halt, looking around me and then at the road behind him. He was moving quickly but furtively, keeping close to the bushes that lined the road as he approached. He saw me watching him and raised a hand in greeting, but he did not slacken his pace.
When he reached me he stopped and bent over, panting for breath with his hands gripping his knees.
“Englishry, Father Jamie,” he gasped. “Robertson sent me back to warn you. He says there’s nothin’ tae be upset ower, but he thocht ye’d like to ken they’re doon there, at the crossroads at the bottom o’ this road. Ye canna see it frae here, but that’s where they are. There’s a knight in charge, on the biggest horse ye’ve ever seen, but we couldna recognize his crest or colours, an’ he has a couple o’ mounted men-at-arms wi’ him, forbye about ten archers. They’re up to somethin’, but we couldna tell what. Watchin’ for somebody or mayhap just waitin’ to see who gaes by. But Robertson jalouses they’ll stop ye and ask ye what your business is, just because they’re English.”
I thanked him, and he turned away and vanished into the dense growth lining the road. This was not unexpected, and we had planned for it and knew our story. I walked back towards the approaching wagons.
“What?” Alan asked as I pulled myself up on to the stirrup step beside him. Mirren was sitting beside him, between him and Ewan, and all three were looking at me expectantly. I smiled at Mirren and waved vaguely in the direction we were heading.
“One of the archers just warned me that there are English ahead of us, at a crossroads at the bottom of the next slope. A knight, he says, with a couple of mounted men-at-arms and half a score of archers.”
“Aye, I know the place. What are they doing, did he say?”
“No. He didn’t know. But he and Robertson think they’re up to something. Nothing to do with us, though, since nobody knew we’d be coming this way. But he thinks they’ll challenge us.”
“Of course they’ll challenge us. Since they decided to take over the ownership of Scotland they challenge everything. A knight, you said?”
“Aye, fully armed and probably English, for nobody recognized his crest or colours.” I looked at Mirren. “So remember, stay calm and don’t say anything different to what we planned. The tricky part will be to pretend we didn’t know they were there, so don’t be peering about for them. If they suspect we knew they were there, they’ll start suspecting other things as well—like how did we know? Who warned us? And why?”
She nodded at me, her face calm and peaceful, and I smiled back and dropped to the ground, making my way to the other wagon and pulling myself up to sit beside Big Andrew and Father Jacobus.
4
They kept themselves well hidden, for we saw no sign of them at all as we descended the long slope, even though we knew they were watching us. We reached the bottom of the descent, and the road flattened out just at the entrance to an open glade surrounding the junction of the two roads that crossed there. The glade was filled with shoulder-high saplings of birch and alder, new growth after a fire had swept through there a handful of years earlier, and from the height of the driver’s bench, overlooking the saplings, I found I could see clearly in all directions across the burned area to the start of the forest proper again, without moving my head obviously. Nothing was stirring, anywhere I looked, but then from the corner of my eye I saw the lower branches of a big evergreen on the forest’s edge pushed aside, and three mounted men emerged and rode directly towards us.