Thomas Bolton laughed aloud. “Oh, ’tis going to be a grand match between you two,” he said.
They went into the courtyard and after mounting their horses followed after Rosamund, whom they found half a mile down the road, grim and determined. The clansmen surrounded her, and Logan said, his voice filled with laughter, “Get on your horse, madame. We’ll get back to Friarsgate a lot faster if you do.” Then he slid from his stallion and boosted her into her saddle. They reached the manor just after sunset when the twilight was still lighting the skies above them. Edmund came to greet them.
“He says he isn’t our thief, though I am not certain I believe him,” Rosamund said as she dismounted her horse.
“We’ve come to help,” Logan Hepburn said.
“Thank you, my lord,” Edmund Bolton replied gratefully.
“You surely don’t believe him?” Rosamund snapped. “Wait. The full moon will come, and there will be no raid upon our flocks.”
“I do believe him,” Edmund said. “The Hepburn of Claven’s Carn is known to be an honorable man, niece.”
“Billet his men in the stables. They may come into the hall to eat,” she said, and hurried into the house.
“He says he is going to wed her,” Lord Cambridge said as he dismounted his gelding. “They already spar with words like an old married couple.”
“Iamgoing to marry her,” Logan Hepburn said implacably.
For the next two days Logan Hepburn’s men kept well out of sight, remaining in the stables or in the hall, sleeping, eating, and dicing among themselves. The night of the full moon was clear. The planet rose and cast a bright light over the landscape. In the meadows where the flocks now grazed the sheep were easily visible. The lake bordering the pastures reflected silver as the moon reached midheaven. Rosamund and Logan Hepburn stood peering through the window of her privy chamber on the second floor of the house.
“There!”he said suddenly to her. “Look to the hillside left. See the shadows moving down? I believe our friends have arrived. Let’s go, my lass, and see who it is.”
She did not argue, but followed him downstairs and outside where their horses were already waiting with the Hepburn’s clansmen. “Tom,” she said to her cousin, “if anything happens to me, the lasses are yours to mother. Promise me.”
Maybel began to weep softly.
“Cease your greeting, old woman,” Rosamund told her. “I do not intend anything to happen, but if it does, he is younger than you, and can gain the king’s ear against uncle Henry. Father Mata, bless us, and confirm my wishes should it be necessary.”
“Aye, my lady,” the young cleric said, and he blessed the group.
They rode off slowly, carefully, so as not to alert the raiders that they had been discovered. Halfway to their destination the bonfire in one meadow sprang to life. This meant the raiders were now enclosed within the circle of sheep. Logan Hepburn raised his hand, and they spurred their horses into a gallop. Within the circle the Friarsgate shepherds and their companions were already engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the raiders. The dogs were barking and attacking where directed. Before their unwelcome guests might escape, the Hepburn clansmen reinforced the circle, and the battle was quickly over; the enemy was disarmed and forced to kneel before the mistress of Friarsgate.
Rosamund dismounted and moved around the kneeling raiders. She suddenly saw a face she recognized. Reaching out, she fastened her fingers in a head of thick hair and yanked it up.“Mavis Bolton!”she exclaimed, very surprised.
“You’re hurting me,” Mavis snarled.
“Let my mother go!” came a young voice next to Mavis.
“Why cousin Henry, how you have grown,” Rosamund drawled to the lad next to Mavis.
The boy looked up at her, eyes filled with hatred.
Rosamund laughed. “Does your father know what you are about, young Henry? Or is my uncle here among you, too?”
“Him?”Mavis said scornfully. “Not bloody likely.”
“Why have you been stealing my sheep, you false bitch?” Rosamund demanded.
“Because they was there,” Mavis snapped. “Because all I ever hear from that useless old man who calls himself my husband is how Friarsgate should be his, not yours. Well, he wasn’t man enough to get it from you, so I decided that we would take it from you piece by piece. Otterly is a poor place, and not likely to grow any richer with Henry Bolton’s heavy hand guiding it. I’m tired of being poor! My lads and my daughters deserve better. Why should you have it all? Are we not as worthy?” She glared at Rosamund.
“You have killed two of my shepherds in previous raids,” Rosamund said coldly. “I could hang you for it, but I will not. You will instead pay an indemnity, or rather my uncle will, to the families of the men whose lives you stole. And you will pay for the dogs, too.” She turned to Logan Hepburn. “My lord, will you transport this bitch, her son, and the others back to Otterly Court, and relate to my uncle what has happened? Tell him my people will come for my sheep tomorrow. We will expect him to pay the penalty at that time as well. He and his family are forbidden from ever coming on my land again. I’ll kill any who do.”
“I will be happy to be of service to you, madame,” Logan Hepburn said with a small bow. Then he sent her a wicked look. “I have always fancied being married during the Twelve Days of Christmas, Rosamund Bolton. While I am Logan for my mother’s family, my Christian name is Stephen. I shall come for you on his day, and we will be married.”
“I will not marry you,”she said, turning her horse and riding off.
“Oh, yes, you will,”he called after her. “You have three months in which to prepare, Rosamund Bolton.” Then the Hepburn of Claven’s Carn signaled to his men, and gathering up their prisoners, they began to drive them up and over the hills to Otterly.
