There was a solitary dry patch immediately in front of the tower, with a piece of rising ground off to the right, where the Armstrongs were driving their stolen cattle.
The scarred man poked a hard finger into my ribs.'I asked you a question.'
I felt inside my mouth with my tongue, searching for loose teeth.'I am Jean Tweedie of the Lethan,' I told him, hoping that the name would put some manners into him.I may as well have asked to ride to the moon.
He grunted.'You're a Tweedie then.Why were you with the Grahams?'
I did not wish to tell him that I did not know I had been with the Grahams.'That is not your concern,' I replied and yelled as he backhanded me again.I fell on the ground, dazed.He picked me up again with his hand twisted in my hair and pulled me close.I stared into the most evil face I had ever seen in my life.The farm boys and middle-aged men of the Lethan were tough as nails and hardy as anybody yet compared to the viciousness in this man's face, they were soft-hearted innocents.
'Why were you with the Grahams?'He repeated the same question, drawing back his hand to hit me again.Now I know that I am stubborn, but I am not stupid enough to allow myself to be beaten to a pulp merely for the sake of it.
'I don't know.'I flinched, expecting another blow.'They grabbed me as I was outside the tower and carried me away.They did not tell me why.'
The Armstrong nodded.'Ransom,' he growled and looked closer.'That's not their normal practice.'
I could not answer.I did not know their normal practice.
'It's a long way to come from the Debatable Land to grab a woman.You must be more important than you look.'He twisted my head back for a closer inspection.'How many?'
'How many what?'I was aware of the other Armstrongs gathering round.Some looked curiously at me, others barely spared me a glance as they busied themselves with counting cattle and horses, the spoil of their raid.
'How many horses?How many cattle?What were the Grahams after when they took you?'He pulled me closer to him with each question, so I was pressed right against that wicked, flint-eyed face with the livid white scar that ran from the outside of his right eye to his chin and which writhed with every word he spoke.
'I don't know!'The panic in my voice must have been evident for the Armstrong merely grunted and threw me back to the ground.
'We'll find out.'He raised his head, 'Take this woman to the dungeon until we see if she's worth keeping.'
'No…' I knew enough about dungeons to not wish to visit one.Cardrona Tower had its Black Hole which was a small space underneath the storeroom.I soon discovered that it was a palace compared to the dungeon in which I was cast.
Ignoring all my protests, two of the Armstrongs grabbed hold of me by the arms and hauled me inside the gateway of the tower.I looked around, seeing a handful of slatternly women huddled around what I took to be a well and a stall of well-cared-for horses along the wall.
There was a trapdoor in the ground, which two of the women opened and I was tossed down, head first.
'You'll be in here until Wild Will decides what to do with you,' one of the women said, and the trapdoor slammed shut leaving me alone in the dark with my thoughts and my fears.
Wild Will.I repeated the name in my head; Wild Will Armstrong, the worst of the worst, and I was in his power.
I looked around me as my eyes gradually accustomed themselves to the dark.I had expected the dungeon to be something like the Black Hole in Cardrona, but it was fouler.There was a thin scattering of straw on the ground, enough to cushion my fall but not enough to give even a small measure of comfort.I heard the faint rustling and knew I was not alone.
'Who's there?'I tried to quell the faint quaver in my voice.'Speak to me.'
Chapter Seven
TARRAS MOSS
SEPTEMBER 1585
'Good evening to you.Who are you?'The voice was deep and rich, with an accent I could not place.
'I am Jeannie Tweedie of Cardrona in the Lethan.'I did not keep the pride from my voice.
'Well met, Jeannie Tweedie.I am Hugh Veitch of Faladale, although I do have other names.'The rustling increased.'Why are you held here?'
'Veitch!'I snapped out the name.'You are a Veitch?'I pulled back in what space that horrendous dungeon afforded.
'And proud of it,' the answer came cheerfully back.'As you should be of the Tweedies.'
I swallowed hard.Here I was a prisoner in a filthy dungeon, and my only cellmate was a Veitch.'We are enemies,' I said.
