‘Many’s a time, I found them in the barn or out in the fields.’
‘And you did not punish him for dishonouring your daughter?’ said Jasper.
The man looked sly. ‘Well, him being a laird’s son and all, I thought she’d done quite well for herself, and when I confronted him, he said he’d wed her. Swore it, he did. But now that she is with child, the bastard has abandoned her, left her cold, with a swollen belly and no coin for the bairn that is coming this summer. Gone off without so much as a by your leave.’
Jasper and Randel exchanged looks. Bran MacCreadie would have abandoned a common lass, sure enough.
Baird continued, warming to his theme. ‘I’m loyal to Murtuagh Gunn, and I have been for years, God knows. Butwhen I went to my laird with my grievance, asking that he punish MacCreadie, Murtaugh Gunn had me whipped, and I was told to shut my mouth. So I have come here to tell you my troubles in the hope that you may help me, as I hear there is no love lost between you and Bran MacCreadie and my Laird.’
‘What would you have me do?’ said Jasper.
‘Kill Bran MacCreadie.’
‘No. I cannot do that.’
‘He slaughtered your cattle. A reiver does not do that. ‘Tis not proper. A dreadful sight, it was, for they burnt the beasts so that we could not even use them for meat.’
‘They?’
‘Bran MacCreadie and those others. It was an insult to you, Laird, and I saw MacCreadie with the crossbow firing into their heads.’
‘Not on his own, he wasn’t,’ said Randel. ‘He has not the spine for it.’
The man, Baird, shuffled his feet and clutched his cap tighter. He suddenly looked shifty and fearful.
‘Who else was with him? If you spill your secrets, there is a reward in it for you and a sword through the guts, if you do not,’ growled Jasper.
‘Steady, Laird,’ said Randel.
The man crumbled easily enough. ‘I saw the Gunns, aye. They did not hide their crime. But there were some there who were not Gunns, nor Scots, even. They were English.’
‘English?’
‘Aye. And one of them, I recognised. He is allied to a powerful man in these parts, and you must not give me away to him, for it would cost my life.’
‘Who?’
‘It was an Englishman leading the savagery. At first, I didn’t know who he was, but then I saw him with his father a few days later in Threave.’
‘Whose was it, damn you?’
‘Edmund Harclaw, son of Sir Henry Harclaw, our new Lord Warden of the Marches and so-called keeper of the peace.’
Randel and Jasper exchanged glances.
‘This cannot be true,’ said Jasper. ‘I was at the truce day when he pledged to treat all fairly.’
‘He promised many things, I’m sure, but he is in league with your enemies, the Gunns, and they’ve some foul scheme afoot. Why else would his son be there attacking a village on your land? And he wasn’t an onlooker. He was in command.’
‘Then I will get the truth of it from this Edmund Harclaw, even if I have to tie the whoreson to a spit and roast him like he roasted my cattle. Where can I find this English bastard?’
‘You can’t,’ said Baird Gunn. ‘He has disappeared off the face of the earth. And that has raised the ire of Sir Henry. The bands of riders you might have seen on your lands, they have been sent out searching for him. I reckon they’ll find a corpse once the winter snows melt.’
***
Jasper paced the ramparts of Kransmuir, seething. Bran MacCreadie raiding his cattle was bad enough. That worm should not dare to look at him sideways, let alone rob him. But tobe in league with those English bastards was a step too far. Now he had two cursed MacCreadies driving him mad – one with anger, the other with desire.
What was to be done about Rowenna? He had married a woman whose brother was in league with his enemies and, worse, the English. There had to be retribution. Any sane man would have banished her and strung up her brother from the nearest tree by now. He had not consummated his marriage fully, so he could still send her packing.
