When the man shook his head, I threw him away and shouted, 'Hugh!'
The only reply was a fresh billow of smoke and the increasing crackle of fire.I coughed again, waved my hand in front of my face in a futile attempt to see better and realised that unless I got out of the tower I could be smoked to death or burned alive.I moved to an arrow-slit window, took a deep breath of slightly fresher air and dived downstairs, gasping as the heat increased.The entire lower floor was ablaze with the straw and wooden fixtures in the storeroom catching fire.
'This way!'One of the servants had lowered a rope from a first-floor window.'One at a time.'
I saw the man, a kitchen skivvy, a nothing, somebody that I would pass in the tower without a look or a second glance, yet here he was in the middle of a fire, saving lives at the risk of his own.
'Is there anybody out there?'he asked me.
'I saw a manservant and a maid come down the turnpike,' I said.
'They're out, so we're the last.Get out first.'He pointed to the rope.Rather than argue, I did as I was told and waited on the ground to help the servant down.
'Where is Hugh?'I asked as he landed beside me.
'All the fighting men are riding,' he was about fourteen, with prominent freckles, 'the valley is under attack.'
I nodded.So, Father had arrived and was burning his way along the valley as he had promised.I had failed in my attempt to save Hugh; the Tweedie Passion had taken me over, despite all my good intentions.
Grey dawn streaked the sky, laced with pillars of smoke from fires the breadth and length of the Veitch lands.I sighed; I had not known that Father would be so ruthless in his attempt at eradicating Veitch power.
As I stood outside that tower, I realised with a jolt that I recognised this place.This was where Robert would prove his love for me.This was where my vision took place.The servants approached, three of them, unarmed, smoke-stained and scared; they knew me for a woman of gentle blood and, although they were eminently capable of making decisions for themselves, years of habit had ingrained in them that I should take charge.
'My lady!The Armstrongs are here!'
Armstrongs!Not my father then?
I looked around.Wild Will and a group of his men appeared from behind a copse of trees.I had nearly forgotten them since we left Liddesdale, and now here they were, pursuing their feud with the Veitches.For one moment I wondered how they had got past the watchmen, and then I recalled that Hugh had posted his men to watch over the boundary with the Tweedies.The Armstrongs would have come from the south and west, rather than the east and north.The Armstrong attack could not have come at a worse time.My father, in his quest to quell the Veitches before my wedding to a weak man, had created a situation where Faladale had been exposed to a much more powerful surname.
'You!'Wild Will reined up.He pointed his lance directly at me.'You and Hugh Veitch set Buccleuch on Liddesdale.I lost five men in that raid!'
I remembered that gallant blade who led the Scott riders.I had not thought of that incident since.Now it had come back to haunt me.I closed my eyes, unable to prevent the inevitable.Now come to me, Robert, and prove yourself worthy.
I was in a shallow valley, with the wind whispering through coarse grass.Nearby there was a peel tower, slowly smouldering and sending wispy, acrid smoke to a bruised sky.I was lonely and scared, although there were many men around me.One man approached me; tall, lean, and scarred, he had a face that could chill the fear from a nightmare and eyes sharp and hard enough to bore through a granite cliff.
I backed away, feeling the fear surge through me, knowing that there was nowhere to run.I heard cruel laughter from the men around, rising above the crackle of flames and the lowing of reived cattle.
'Come here.'His voice was like death; cracked, harsh, with an accent from the West.
I did not come.I backed further away until whipcord arms stopped me, holding me tight.I was held and then pushed forward toward the scarred man.I tried to face him, to talk my way out of trouble but the words would not come.My tongue failed me when it was most needed.
'Come here,' the scarred man repeated.He stood with his legs apart, his thumbs hooked into his sword belt and those devil eyes searing into my soul.
'I will not come,' I said.
He stepped towards me, slowly and with each footstep sinking into the springy grass.A gust of wind sent smoke from the fire around him, so he appeared to be emerging from the pits of hell.He let go of his belt and extended his hands toward me.They were long-fingered, with nails like talons, reaching out to grab me.I tried to pull backwards, to ease further away.
I was held again, surrounded by harsh laughter.
My nightmare was about to get worse.
The single shout broke the spell and we all looked to the west, where a lone rider had appeared on the hill crest.Silhouetted against the rising sun, I could not make out details.I only saw a tall, slender man on a horse with a banner in his hand.He stood there for a second with his horse prancing, its fore hooves raised and kicking at the air, and then he plunged down toward me, yelling something, although, in my vision, I could not make out the words.
'Robert!'I said and knew that all would be well.
Here it was; here was the moment when Robert would save me.I saw the rider approach, saw him in silhouette, bold and strong.
'Robert,' I said.I had left him in a fit of anger, yet he had come to my aid.After all the doubts and all the ridicule he had suffered, Robert was proving himself the man I always knew he was.
