'What?'But I spoke to myself.Hugh had vanished into the dark as if he had never been there.I sat on Kailzie beside that gnarled pine with the ache of loneliness in my heart and fear in my soul.'But I don't want you dead,' I said softly, 'I want you with me.'Nobody heard except the wind, and the wind does not care what we want.It follows its own course, whatever that happens to be.And anyway, Hugh was not my man; Robert was my man and he would be out there somewhere, scouring the hills for me.
I could see the flicker of firelight by the darker patch that I knew to be woodland, and I could smell the occasional whiff of smoke, sweet and pleasant in the night air.It was a few long minutes before I heard a long drawn out call, like the scream of a hunting vixen, and the words 'A Veitch!A Veitch!'
That was Hugh.There was no other Veitch in the area and nobody else would beard the Armstrongs in their own Tarras Moss.I heard the clash of steel on steel and then the sound of galloping hooves as one horseman thundered past me.A few seconds later came the shout 'A Veitch!A Veitch!'once again, and then more horsemen and the cry, 'An Armstrong!'Long drawn out and echoing to the silent sky.
Tempted to charge in their wake and help Hugh, I knew that I would be more hindrance than help and instead pushed Kailzie forward and toward the Black Yett.I was nervous for Hugh and apprehensive in case the Armstrongs had left a man behind.I should not have bothered; the only man there lay on his back, arms outstretched.He may have been dead, he may have been alive, I did not know.I passed him with a scared glance and trotted on, hoping that Hugh was safe in the Moss as I tried to remember my instructions.
The Black Yett was ill marked by two large stones like the ones the ancient Druids used for worship, or so I have been told, and beyond there was a slope, just as Hugh had said.We slithered down, Kailzie and I, and I nearly dismounted myself in my haste.There was grass at the foot, sweet and fresh despite the lateness of the season, and I thought: was it left, or right?
It was right, I was sure it was right, so I pulled Kailzie in that direction and kicked in my heels to cover the ground at a faster rate.We had not travelled more than half a mile when I saw the shell of a building that could only be the chapel, although only God knew why anybody would wish to build a chapel in such a forlorn spot.
Somebody told me that this had once been a spital, a hospital, a stopping off spot for travellers traversing the lonely road between the great abbeys of the Scottish Border and the towns of England, and that may well be true.All I saw was a small, stone building with a pointed gable pierced with a round window.I led Kailzie inside this ruined sanctuary and let her graze because God knew she had been hard-worked on short rations the last few days.I was getting rather fond of that brown mare.
I was also getting rather fond of Hugh, moody and unpredictable though he was.I leaned against the cold, moss-furred stone walls of that ancient building, listened to the wind and waited.And waited.Border bred, I did not normally feel the cold but as I stood there a chill seemed to creep over me.It may have emanated from the ground or from the worn stones with whatever history they had, I do not know.I only know that within a short space of time I was shivering, pulling my clothes up to cover me, and hoping that Hugh came along soon.I began seeing and hearing things in the dark, imagining that the rustle of bracken in a crack in the wall was an Armstrong coming to get me, or the distant bark of a fox was a horseman nosing in with drawn sword and evil intent.I began to form people out of shadows, such was the state of my imagination, so that a shift of moonlight cast the very image of Wild Will walking toward me, and the glint of a star on a burn became the ripple of light along the blade of a broadsword.I pulled my shawl closer about me and gasped with shock as a voice broke the silence.
'You did well, Jeannie.'
'Hugh?'I peered into the dark, half fearful in case it was an Armstrong or the Redcap demon from Hermitage Castle only a few miles away.
'Hugh it is.'He stepped into a circle of moonlight, looking taller than I remembered from only an hour or two ago.
'The Armstrongs?'
'They won't be bothering us,' he assured me.'I have a gift for you out here.'
I followed him outside the walls of the chapel, part expecting to see the head of a dead Armstrong or some such thing.As children, Robert and I had scared each other with such tales.When faced with the reality there was no pleasure; only the fear was real.
'Here.'Hugh lifted a spare saddle from the back of his horse.'One each.The previous owners have no further use for them.'
I did not ask further.I only held the saddle closely.'You have no idea how much a certain part of me is grateful for this gift.'
Hugh leaned closer.'I understand,' he said.'Certain parts of me are equally grateful.'His smile was mischievous.I did not mention the smear of blood across his face.I knew that it was not his.
'You are a good man,' I said, and he turned away.I cursed myself for my wayward tongue.
'We had better keep moving,' Hugh said, 'I'd like as much distance as possible between us and the Black Yett.'
Having a saddle under me was infinitely more comfortable than riding without, so riding was much less of a hardship than it had been.The ground was also easier, springy turf and soft heather with less need to watch for peat-holes, bogland, and sudden patches of dense forest.I began to feel quite relaxed until we crested a ridge and Hugh put a hand on the bridle of my horse.
'Wait now,' he said softly and gestured beneath us.
The ridge stretched into the unseen dark and on its north it overlooked Liddesdale.Below us, deep in degradation and specked by flickering lights from fireside and window, swept that dreaded valley.Even up here with the fresh night wind blowing and the occasional spatter of rain cleaning the air, I could sense the wickedness.
'We have a choice,' Hugh said.'We can either go around the valley, which means a ride of around forty miles or more, or we can cross it, which is much more dangerous and very much shorter.'
'Which shall we do?'I asked.
'We must decide between us,' Hugh said.
I looked at him.Nobody had ever asked my opinion about such matters before.In the Lethan, Father made all the decisions about farming or anything outside Cardrona Tower, while Mother was the matriarch of all within.There was no argument.Here, Hugh was treating me as if I mattered, as if I was important.It was a new sensation.'Thank you,' I said simply.
'Thank you for what?'He sounded genuinely curious.
'For asking me,' I said.'Not many men would have done so.'
He looked away.'It is your life as much as mine,' Hugh said.
I pondered the choices; the longer, safer ride meant at least another night out in the open, another night on the hills that bordered the Armstrong homeland.It also meant another night of worry for my parents.And for Robert of course.How on earth could I forget my own Robert?On the other hand, if we crossed directly…
