After Flodden (31 page)

Once through the village, they moved faster, riding abreast. ‘We must rest the horses at some point,’ said Gabriel, ‘but I would like to get onto the Edinburgh road before
then. Can you manage a little longer?’

‘Of course,’ said Louise. ‘I would happily ride all night.’ She was uneasy at being alone with him. At the sight of Crozier heading into the night she had felt an urge to
call out and join him. After what she had been through, Crozier’s Keep felt like a haven, dark and decayed though it was. With a rush of understanding, she realised that wherever Crozier
went, she would feel safe.

The sudden revelation made her shiver. It made no sense. He was rough and dangerous, an expert killer, as she had seen, and not to be trusted. Nor had he shown any sign of interest in her,
despite his many kindnesses. Gabriel meanwhile had been braver in a single day than most men would be in their lifetime, and there could be no doubt he had acted out of love for her. Talking his
way into Durham Castle was an act of heroism that might have cost his life, and by rescuing her from the soldiers, he had not only saved Louise but Crozier too. She was grateful, and humbled by her
debt to him. And yet the more he talked of love, the less she felt it. She hoped she was not turning into a prude, who quailed at the prospect of lying with a man. Yet how else to explain the
revulsion she had felt at the sour taste of his tongue, and his greedy, grasping hands?

She sighed. Marguerite had said there were acts of love one grew to enjoy in time. Maybe that was all there was to it. She would have to become accustomed to being handled as if her body was not
her own to command while her lover was taking his pleasure. Whistling the vixen to heel, she pulled Crozier’s cloak closer against the cold and bent her head into the wind. They had a long
way still to travel.

It was close to midnight when they reined in. The night was clear and the moon bright, yet they heard rather than saw the danger ahead. Senses sharpened from their days on the road, they caught
the sounds of men on the move. ‘Listen!’ said Louise, as the rattling tread of a band of riders reached them. An iron-wheeled cart creaked, its mules slow footed. Heavily mounted horses
trotted, snorting at the dark, but it was hard to guess how many.

The forest funnelled the noise, bringing it closer. Irritated at the delay, they led their horses into the trees, and waited for trouble to pass. Gabriel was beginning to chafe at the number of
occasions he had been obliged to hide, to keep his sword sheathed, or his tongue guarded. He had taken no pleasure in killing the soldier, yet it was a welcome reminder that he was still a soldier
himself, and a finer one than most. Holding the advancing soldiers at bay while Crozier and Louise made their escape counted, he reckoned, as one of the most courageous acts of his life. That he
had done so without using his sword was little short of miraculous. Adopting the hauteur of a man above doubt he had made them believe he was a scout from the castle who had that minute discovered
the warm, wet corpses of his compatriots. As they crowded around the bodies, the patrol had not even noticed him leading his horse away.

He reached for Louise’s hand. With her at his side, there was nothing he could not achieve. Louise let her hand rest in his, and in this he read not the guilt that filled her with regret
and shame, but love. He was soon to discover his mistake.

The minutes passed, but the road remained empty. The sounds had diminished, but there was an occasional whinny, a grumbling voice. ‘We can’t go on down this road now,’
whispered Louise.

‘But nor can we go back,’ said Gabriel. ‘Sounds like they’re setting up camp. We can skirt them by finding a higher trail through the forest.’

Louise shook her head. ‘I don’t like this. We need to know who they are.’ She lashed her pony to a tree. ‘I’m going to find out.’ Smothering a sigh, Gabriel
followed. They crept through the forest, light-footed as dancers. In the bustle of unpacking, the soldiers did not hear their approach. Moving from tree to tree they drew closer, until they were
near enough to snatch a plate of broth from the cook who was ladling from a cauldron, heedless of the eyes at his back.

To Louise it looked like a small army, bristling with pikes, guns and bows. Their commander stood at the centre of the clearing, directing the men as they queued for food. ‘Four
hours’ slumber, gentlemen,’ he shouted. ‘If we set off in the early hours, we will be through Coldstream by cock’s crow, and in Teviotdale at first light.’ He put his
hands on his hips, though there was little space for them among the scabbards and belts and bugle. ‘We will have the advantage of surprise, but do not underestimate these people. Even the
women and weans are venomous as vipers, and will slit your gizzards open as soon as look at you.’

He raised his voice.

‘At the risk of repeating myself until you’re bored witless, give no quarter. Kill, or be killed. With these filthy tribes, there’s no other way. And to cheer you on this
dreary night, I am authorised to tell you that the warden of the marches himself has offered a reward to all who play their part well. So bear that in mind as these louts charge at you. Each
flea-bitten head is worth a purse of gold.’

The men raised a throaty cheer, and the commander left them to settle down. He made his way to the cook’s station, where he was handed a bowl of stew, drinking it in a few gulps as if it
were beer. ‘I don’t like being out in these parts one little bit,’ he said, running his tongue around his mouth, collecting morsels that had strayed into his beard. The cook
grunted, and wiped down the dirty plates. ‘Don’t know what it is,’ he continued, ‘but I feel there’s eyes on me behind every rock and tree. They’re savages out
here, untouched by charity or God.’ He tossed his bowl into the cook’s tub. ‘Well, Dacre will have his revenge tomorrow all right, and very satisfying it will be.’ He
slapped the cook on the back. ‘Make sure and stay near the wagon when we start rampaging. And sharpen your kitchen knives. You might just need them.’ The cook gave another grunt, though
to Louise’s ear it was more like a whimper.

Gabriel tugged at her cloak, and signalled her to follow him back into the forest. Neither spoke until they had reached their horses.

‘We’ll have to take the top road, and circle around them,’ Gabriel whispered, untying the stallion. ‘A damned nuisance, but there’s nothing for it.’

‘What do you mean? Those are Dacre’s men. Didn’t you hear him?’ Louise stared at him in disbelief. Under moonlight Gabriel’s face was bleached, his hair drained
from gold to silver. ‘They are heading for Crozier and his people,’ she said, as if he were dim-witted and needed the situation decoded. ‘Crozier told me their plan was not to
make a move till All Hallows’ Eve, yet here they are. They want revenge, and nobody’s going to care about promises or the law, if it’s only Border folk that are
murdered.’

Gabriel said nothing, and she caught his sleeve. ‘My Lord, we must get to Crozier’s Keep! We must go immediately, to warn them! We can give them time to prepare, to
escape.’

He covered her hand with his own, pale eyes gleaming. ‘No, Louise. We must get to Leith. Your brother’s plight is more urgent, more important. We need to find him, and help him. He
must have a chance to put the truth to Patrick Paniter, if he’s to have any hope of surviving. He may even need to hide. Don’t you see what danger he is in now that the news is out
about the bribe he has taken?’

She pulled her hand away. ‘There is nothing we can do for Benoit in the next day that will help anything. He might not even be in Leith, and then how would we feel, if we’d left
Crozier and Hob and Wat to be killed?’

Gabriel shook his head. ‘This is folly, my sweet. You can do nothing to help. Crozier and his gang are cunning enough to know what’s heading their way. Why else did he rush off as he
did? I wager his castle is already on full guard.’

Her eyes were bright with fury. ‘Don’t you care if they die? You saved Crozier’s life the other day, if you remember. Is it worthless to you now?’

‘It meant nothing to me then,’ he replied, stung. ‘By saving you I merely distracted the other soldier and gave Crozier the chance to run him through. It was you alone I
thought of. It has always been you.’

He moved towards her, but she took a step back.

‘And spare a thought for your poor mother,’ he continued. ‘She will be fretting herself ill, waiting to hear if I have found you. I set out to bring you back to her, and I
intend to do just that.’

Louise’s eyes narrowed. ‘Nobody cared much about our family when Marguerite died,’ she said. ‘I wonder why suddenly all this concern? What is my mother’s misery to
you? Tell me truly why you came after me, and why you risked your life in Durham for a man – and a girl – you barely know?’

‘For love,’ he said. ‘How often must I tell you?’ But his expression was the opposite of love. Hot words rose to her lips, but it was not the need to whisper that held
them back. The forest pressed in around her, and a cold sweat crawled down her back. ‘I must go,’ she said abruptly, ‘whatever you think.’ She untied the pony and, forcing
herself to walk slowly, made for the path.

‘Louise.’ Gabriel spoke quietly, but the command was clear. She continued, quickening her pace, though the forest clawed at her.

‘Come back, or you will regret it!’

On she walked. She had stepped out onto the path, into the open air, when the undergrowth crackled, and he was upon her, grabbing her arm, and wrenching her around to face him. She screamed, and
raised her fists to defend herself. Catching her by the wrists, he pulled her to him, looked into her eyes and kissed her, crushing her mouth as if he would print his lips on hers forever. She
tasted blood, and tears. Then, with a cry, he threw her from him, sending her reeling across the path.

‘That is love, my pretty,’ he hissed. ‘It hurts. It bleeds – as your unhappy sister learned. It is not the tame thing you women like to imagine. It is as violent as
hate.’ He picked his hat from the dust, and brushed it down. His expression was unearthly in the elvish light. ‘But I will always love you, Louise, with a passion you will never
understand. That much is the truth, I swear to God.’

With these words, uttered more like a confession than a declaration, he strode off. She was alone, shivering in the starlight, the sound of Gabriel and his horse growing fainter as they climbed
into the forest.

*    *    *

Turned towards home, the pony made its way west, needing barely a touch on the reins as it cantered across the moorlands and onto the road for the Croziers’ stronghold.
When at last the scented pinewoods closed in above them, Louise spurred the pony into a last burst of speed. She was crouched low over its mane when a black figure stepped out onto the path. The
pony reared, and she screamed, fighting to keep her seat. When the animal had calmed, she found the shadowy figure of Tom at her side.

‘Saints alive!’ she cried. ‘You nearly scared the horse to death.’

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but I’m on lookout, with orders to stop anyone who passes.’ He put a hand on the pony’s nose. He had known her since she was a foal, and
she nuzzled his palm as if he had been no more frightening than a fly. ‘Adam said you were back off to Edinburgh. What’s going on?’

‘Dacre’s men.’ She took a deep breath: ‘They’ll be here by daylight.’ Tom looked at her, suddenly stilled. After a second, he cupped his hands over his mouth
and whistled like an owl. Moments later more men appeared on the trail. The news was passed on, and they melted back into the trees. With Tom riding pillion, Louise made for the keep. By the time
they got there, the place was bright with torches, and the courtyard busy as a fair. Tom slipped from the pony, and hurried off.

Crozier met Louise in the yard, and as she dismounted, took the reins from her. He looked at her gravely, before leading the pony down a makeshift ramp into the great hall, where its companions
were already stalled.

‘Where did you meet them?’ he asked, as the pony slithered down the planks.

‘East of Coldstream. About three hours from here.’

‘And what’s happened to his lordship – he surely didn’t leave you to ride here alone?’

‘He’s gone,’ said Louise.

‘Gone?’

‘Forever,’ she said, turning aside. ‘He’s on his way to Leith. I was a fool.’

‘You’re not alone in that,’ he said grimly, and put a fleeting hand on her shoulder, as a brother would.

In the hall Crozier’s men swarmed, arming themselves and those villagers who had joined them for the fray. Crozier turned to Louise. ‘You can take refuge in the armoury. It’s
the safest room in the house. Only if they overwhelm us will they reach it. And I don’t plan on that happening.’

‘I don’t want to be safe,’ she replied. ‘I want to help. I won’t see this place or your people destroyed.’

He looked grim. ‘You are quite certain about this?’

She nodded, and he held her eyes, as if seeing her clearly for the first time. ‘I won’t forget this,’ he said. ‘But if you are going to help, you need a weapon.’
From a rail on the wall he took a narrow iron pipe, a culverin which she first mistook for a club. ‘Old Wat here will show you how to load it. It works much like a peashooter, but it’s
deadly. Station yourself on the battlements, where you can get a clear shot. But you must take care. I will not have you hurt. You need a helmet and a tabard.’

‘For me and all!’ piped a voice. ‘Cos I’m coming wi’ ye!’ and Hob threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her cloak as if he could anchor her to the
spot for the rest of her life. She had time only to kiss his head when she found Mother Crozier at her side, beckoning her to the kitchen. ‘You’ll be famished,’ she said.
‘You must eat afore the fight. It won’t be cooked, but it’ll be filling.’ It was the first time Louise had seen her face soften into something like a smile.

*    *    *

Dacre’s men entered the pinewoods as daylight was beginning to finger the trees. They rode with an air of authority, unafraid of the shadows that closed in on the path.
Only those with second sight would know they were coming, and at this hour none but forest creatures would be abroad.