“Come along then, my lord,” Andrew Lynbridge said jovially. “We will need all the hands we can get driving the cattle back from Brockton.”
“Very well, if you insist on coming, then come,” Adair echoed, “but in the name of heaven, FitzTudor, do not wear one of your fancy garments. No one will be impressed by them, and the traders will try to charge me more than I need to pay for the cattle.” She turned to Andrew Lynbridge. “Cider, sir? A bit of bread and cheese before we go?”
They traveled to Brockton in the company of Dark Walter and a dozen of his men. They would be needed to get the cattle back to Stanton Hall. FitzTudor had actually taken her counsel, and wore a leather jacket instead of a velvet or silk brocade half doublet. Andrew Lynbridge murmuring advice in her ear, Adair purchased thirty head of thin but sound beasts that would be the nucleus of Stanton’s new herd. It was early afternoon when they began to drive the animals back the seven miles to the hall. The animals were docile and moved along well, but when they were almost in sight of Stanton a party of horsemen appeared at the crest of the hills.
“Jesu!” Andrew Lynbridge swore softly. “Scots.”
“What do they want?” FitzTudor asked.
“The cattle, you fool!” Adair said. “They want the cattle.”
“We’re evenly matched, my lady,” Dark Walter said.
“Aye, they may decide ’tis not worth the fight,” she agreed. “The cattle are scrawny, after all.” But Adair had a sinking feeling as the Scots moved slowly down the hill toward them. “Keep going, lads.”
“Protect your lady first,” Andrew Lynbridge said to Dark Walter. “The cattle can be replaced, but she must not be harmed.”
“I am capable of protecting my own wife,” FitzTudor said irritably.
Adair looked at him, astounded, and laughed. “You, boy? I do not think so, but not to fear. Dark Walter will see we are both safe.”
The two groups advanced toward each other, finally stopping, each party blocking the road ahead. The cattle milled about, lowing.
“ ’Tis a fine group of beasties ye hae,” the leader of the Scots said casually.
“These poor starving cows?” Andrew Lynbridgereplied easily.
“Thin they are, aye,” the Scot agreed, “but yet they would make a tasty supper for our folk over the next few weeks, and they would fatten themselves up on our good Scots grass.” He smiled at them, showing several broken teeth.
“You would do better to wait until they have fattened up on good Stanton grass,” Adair remarked. “You’ve had my cattle before, I am told, sir.”
The Scot laughed. “I have, my lady, but ’twas someyears back. Now, to show your good faith I would have you turn a few of these creatures over to us today. We’ll come for the rest in a few weeks’ time, I promise you.”
“Nay, good sir, I cannot,” Adair replied. “I must rebuild my herds, starting with these cows. If you will but give me a year or two I promise you the wait will be well worth it.” She grinned at him wickedly.
“Yer a braw lassie,” the Scot said. “I think you might be worth it. Perhaps I shall take you and leave the cows.” He returned her grin.
“How dare you, you low Scots varlet! How dare you speak to my wife in such a manner,” FitzTudor demanded as he pushed his mount forward to face the Scot.
“Jesu!” Dark Walter muttered low.
“I am the Earl of Stanton,” FitzTudor continued, “and if you do not immediately give way I shall send the duke’s men after you and have you arrested for your presumption.” He glared at the Scot and his men.
They burst out laughing. “This bantam cock is your husband, lady?”
“No, he is not. The king sent him, but I will not have him,” Adair explained.
“The king sent him? Now why would the king be bothered with a little border lass such as yourself?” the Scot wanted to know.
Before Adair might say a word FitzTudor was speaking again. “Why? Because the Countess of Stanton is his natural daughter, that is why! Now, move aside and allow us to pass with our cattle.”
“Perhaps you are worth more than your cattle, my lady,” the Scot slowly mused.
“Nay, sir, I am not. And I am not in the king’s favor at all, I fear. And I will be even less so when I send this pompous boy back to him and demand an annulment,”
Adair said lightly. “He is quite useless.”
The Scots burst out laughing again, and then their leader said, “For a man to be useless with you is atragedy, lady. Very well, we will take six head of cattle now, and return for the rest at summer’s end.” He nodded to his men to begin cutting the animals out of the herd.
