'I hope they will be all right,' I said slowly.
'Your father knows what he is doing,' Mother assured me.She lifted her hand and dropped it before raising it again to pat me on the shoulder.I could see her struggle between a show of affection and acting the stern matriarch of the family.I never knew which side of her would triumph.Indeed, I never knew which side of her was true and which was an act.'You get back to your work and allow the men to do what they do.'
I nodded.'Yes, Mother.Wild Will Armstrong is a killer as well as a reiver,' I reminded, 'and Father has not drawn sword or held a lance in my lifetime.'I hesitated, 'and then there is Robert…'
'The least said about him the better,' Mother said.She pushed me toward the door.'The Fergusons of Whitecleuch have aye been a weak house, Jeannie, and Robert is as bad as the rest.Worse, mayhap.'
I did not agree but neither did I argue.I had learned from bitter experience that it did not pay to disagree with Mother.She did not reserve her tongue or her hands solely for the tenants and neighbours.
'Lock and bar the outer door,' Mother ordered.I hastened to obey, watching these men who were too old to ride and fight to push the great double doors closed and drop the massive oaken bar into its slots.It would take a battering ram to burst through now, and even Wild Will did not carry such a thing in his armoury.
If any raider managed to get through the outer door, they would find the livestock and many of the tenants within the barmekin wall, and then there was the peel tower to contend with.Mother ushered me through the press, with animals, women, children, and old men huddled together, all fighting for space in which to shelter from the damp night and through into the tower itself.
You may be familiar with the Border towers, and if so please forgive me while I give you a brief description.They are straightforward things, four stories high of solid stone.The bottom, or ground floor, is used for animals or stores, with the upper levels for living accommodation.The watchmen sit behind a parapet on the roof, ready to fire harquebuses or arrows at any attacker.Towers are cramped, crowded and uncomfortable as well as cosy and secure.It would take a small army to capture a typical Border tower, and Cardrona Tower is no exception.Many of the Border lairds have added a substantial house beside the tower to add to the comfort of the residence.My mother, as I have already hinted, had been pressing Father for such a thing all my lifetime.
By statute of the crown in Edinburgh, each prominent family in the Borders must have a peel tower within a barmekin wall, partly as defence against English invasion and partly to keep the Border secure from the raiding families.The barmekin wall had to be at least seven feet tall and two feet thick; not strong enough to hold out against artillery, but sufficiently stout to hinder an attacker.As the Borders were dotted with scores of such peels, they would delay any invasion, or cause the invaders to split or deploy his forces, allowing the King to gather an army to defend the country.
So, there we were, all locked up safe inside the peel tower while the menfolk hurried up to the summer shielings to bring the cattle to safety.I hurried up to the roof to peer into the darkening evening to try and see what was happening.As luck would have it, Mother had decided on exactly the same thing and met me on the roof beside the unlit watch fire with its tarred covering to keep out the rain.
'Who are you watching for?'Mother asked.
'Both of them,' I replied.
Mother grunted and said nothing.I knew what she was thinking.
'Mother, I am twenty years old now.If I do not wed soon, I will be an old maid, fit only to sit in the ingleneuk and sew buttons.'
Her laugh surprised me.'I cannot see any Tweedie woman as an old maid,' Mother said.'The Tweedies have ayeways been a lusty bunch, casting their eyes on every man or woman they fancy.'
I did not smile.I did not say that if the Tweedies were so lusty, why was I twenty years old and still without a man?Other women of fewer years than me were walking along the Lethan Valley carrying one child and with another toddling at their feet.Of my contemporaries, only Kate Hunnam and I were not with our man, although I knew that Kate had known many in the Biblical sense.I had Robert and was determined to wed him, despite the doubts of my mother who had continued to talk during my period of contemplation.I cast my mind back to what my Mother had been saying.
'You remember how the Tweedies got their name, Jeannie, don't you?'I had not replied to that question, so Mother had continued.'Your ancestor had gone on crusade to the Holy Land, leaving his wife to look after the castle and lands.That was normal practice, as you are aware.'
'Yes, Mother,' I said.It was always normal practice for women to look after the castle and lands when the men went to war.That was how it always had been and always will be.
'Well.'Mother gave the secretive little smile that meant she was about to impart something she thought was amusing or scandalous.'Your ancestor put a chastity belt on his wife to ensure she remained faithful to him.'
I nodded.'That was not very trusting of him,' I said.I tried to imagine my reaction if Robert attempted to fasten such a contraption on me.He would learn that a Tweedie woman nursed a hot temper, at the least.
Mother grunted.'I wonder if that lord intended to remain chaste while he was in Outremer.Anyway, he was away for five years fighting the Saracens, and when he returned, he discovered his wife with two children, the youngest only six months old.'
I shook my head in mock horror, as Mother would expect of me.'The hussy,' I said.
'Hussy indeed.'Mother approved of my reaction, apparently.'As you may imagine, her husband was not pleased to find he had been cuckolded.He immediately dragged his wife upstairs, ripped off her clothes, and checked the chastity belt.It was intact and only her lord had the key.His wife could not have been with a man, yet she had given birth on two occasions.'
I shook my head.'How could that be?'
Mother leaned forward.'It was obvious.As the knight's wife said, the Spirit of the Tweed came out and forced himself on her, at least twice.'She leaned back in her chair.'And that is how we got the name, Tweedie!'
'Was it the spirit of the River Tweed?'I asked.Living in such close proximity to nature, we tended to be less sceptical of such things as nature spirits, hobgoblins, and witches.And do remember that I was born at midnight on Midsummer Eve and had my own gifts.
Mother raised her eyebrows wide.'Your ancestor said it was… would you doubt the word of a Lady of the Lethan in such circumstances?'
I thought hard before I replied, which was most unlike me.'Yes, Mother, I would.I do not think that any river spirit was the father of her children.'
Mother leaned forward and spoke in a whisper.'Well said, Jeannie.You may make a Tweedie wife yet.Your ancestor's lover was a blacksmith; he knew how to open a chastity belt and make another.'Her smile was full of mischief.'Men think they know all there is to know but we have the final say in everything.'She patted me in my most personal place.'Especially what we do with that!'
I felt the colour rush to my face.'Mother!'
