‘Poison,’ shouted Caolan, his growl echoing off the walls.
Jasper could scarcely believe the man had said it aloud. He had courage, that one. A clamour rose, each man shouting over another. Caolan’s eyes met Jasper’s again.
‘Well, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you? Was that not how you came by Clan McColl, Bannerman, by poisoning its laird?’ said Gunn.
‘Try repeating that accusation outside while my dirk slices open your throat,’ growled Caolan. ‘As you well know, my grandfather, Laird Gilmour McColl, was poisoned by the Strachans.’
‘Take that back,’ shouted Peyton Strachan.
‘That old bastard died of old age and a sour temperament,’ shouted another man. Soon, accusations were being hurled about the hall.
A man stepped forward and mounted the dais. Jasper had never seen him before. He was bone thin with a bloodless face and soulless grey eyes, and yet there was an air of steely authority about him as he held out his hands for quiet.
‘I will have silence whilst I speak!’ he bellowed, and the hall fell silent.
‘And who might you be to speak to us besides a soft Englishman?’ said one man.
The man raised a quizzical brow. ‘I am Sir Henry Harclaw of Cumbria, the new Lord Warden of the Marches. I hold sway at this truce day, and when you get to know me, you will find nothing soft in my manner of dealing with you. So you had best choose your next words carefully.’
The man glared but quieted.
Sir Henry coldly surveyed the hall. ‘I mourn Sir Walder’s passing as much as you, for I knew him well from court, and he was a fine, upstanding man, a credit to his post.'
‘He was a corrupt, waddling bladder of wine and a whoremonger, is what he was,’ shouted Strachan.
‘Let us not disparage a dead man,’ said Sir Henry and then proceeded to do so. ‘I acknowledge that Sir Walder was not themost vigorous of men, and he did tend to indulge the sin of gluttony and take a bribe or two. I am not such a man, and I am here to assure you that I intend to pursue law and order in the Marches most vigorously. If you keep the peace between you, there will be no trouble. I will be a fair and generous overlord. But any clan attacking another, reiving over the border, stealing, raping and murdering, will be put down with extreme methods.’
‘So you judge us all as criminals already,’ shouted one of the Beatties.
‘King James has tasked me with bringing peace and prosperity to these savage lands, and he will brook no opposition to his rule. So, I lay down a warning to you all. I am not here to be your friend or ally. I do not want to linger in this stinking cesspit of a country, and the sooner you fall into line, the sooner I may return to my soft English comforts.’
Shouting broke out, and insults were hurled. Sir Henry said nothing. He looked upon the assembled men with cold contempt as if they were squabbling children beneath his notice. Then he simply turned, stepped off the dais and left the hall.
A firm grip took Jasper’s arm. ‘We need to talk to Strachan,’ said Caolan Bannerman.
***
The three came together in the woods outside the Gunn stronghold, out of range of prying eyes and ears. There was no dismounting to talk or share a whisky, for their enmity outweighed their trust.
‘The Gunns must be in dire need of money to nurse that viper in their bosom,’ said Jasper.
‘Why would a worm like Murtaugh Gunn stick his neck out by supporting that English turd?’ said Peyton.
Caolan shook his head. ‘I cannot fathom it.’
‘I can,’ said Jasper. ‘Gunn has always stood next to stronger men to hide his weakness. He would never side with the English on his own. My village was raided, and I am sure the Gunns were to blame. They killed some kinsmen, took women, and killed every beast and burnt their carcasses.’
‘Same as us, though it was sheep. I thought it was you, Glendenning,’ said Strachan. ‘I was going to take your head for it.’
‘As if you could,’ snarled Jasper. ‘And why do you tarry. We do not need your counsel.’
‘Enough,’ said Caolan. ‘That attack was a provocation, Jasper, so it is just as well that you have not yet retaliated. You turn on the Gunns, and the Warden executes you in the name of peace and the King’s justice. If you turn on Strachan and wipe each other out, you do the Warden’s dirty work for him.’ Caolan settled his arms over his pommel, deep in thought. ‘We must not underestimate this new Warden, Sir Henry. He is somewhat firmer in his belief that our lawlessness needs to be quelled, is he not?’ said Caolan.
‘But is his wrath aimed only at we three? Have you thought of that? Have others been burned, as we have?’ said Peyton. ‘If not, then we have a target on our backs, and I would ask why?’
Peyton Ruari Strachan was a good deal cleverer than Jasper had first thought. Perhaps he had underestimated him.
‘We can squabble over Liddesdale all we like, but there is a conspiracy here, a malevolent circle, and we stand outside of it,’ said Strachan. ‘That makes us weak. Our enemies can pick us off one by one. Together, we are stronger.’
