The Border Lord's Bride (51 page)

She must face Roger Colby a final time. Had she been mad to come? But if she had not come, how was she to know what would be said? How could she defend herself, her reputation, if she were not there? Oh, holy Mother, Ellen prayed silently as she rode along, prevent Sir Roger from hurting Duncan! From harming us.

"We‘re almost to the end of it," Hercules Hepburn said. "It‘s a wicked path, isn‘t it? And a fine den the English fox had to go to ground when he led his raiders last year."

"Aye," Ellen agreed. "The entrance to the glen is well hidden, and getting here is not easy. ‘Tis a well-protected place. I am surprised Sir Roger had no one guarding the entry, but then, I suppose unless you knew it was there you wouldn‘t find it but by accident. The English felt safe here. Is it England or Scotland?"

"‘Tis one of those places in dispute, but your husband says ‘tis England, for any landmarks he recognizes are several miles to the north," Hercules answered her.

Ahead Ellen could see the path widening, and after a short while they entered the main area of the den itself. At first she did not spy the king and the others, but then she saw them in the shadows of the barns, and she realized that it was light enough now for anyone looking from a window to see the visitors. They joined the others.

"We are discussing how to approach this with the least loss of life," the king told Ellen as she rode up to him.

"I should post a group of men at the rear of the house, or anywhere else there is likely to be an exit," Ellen said. "Then I would knock upon the front door. It is obvious even to a woman that you cannot make a great assault upon the building. You need to get inside of the house. Actually, I should be the one to knock, for even the most suspicious servant or soldier will not consider a little woman such as myself a threat."

The men about them listening chuckled softly.

"I forbid it!" Duncan Armstrong said.

"My dear lord," Ellen answered him in dulcet tones, "I am the logical choice, for given the preference between a big man and a small woman, would you not open the door to the woman but not the man?"

"I don‘t want you in any danger," the laird said softly.

"With three clans standing behind me?" Ellen asked him.

"She is determined to be a part of all of this, aren‘t you, my bonny?" the king intervened between them. "And she is right, my lord. If we batter the door in, which we can do, we alert those inside to our hostile intentions. But if the door is opened we can push through, muffle the doorkeeper, and take the others in the house quickly, possibly even without bloodshed. Because we do not know how many there are in the house, those in the barn had to be slain, for we could not leave any of our party to guard them. It is unlikely these men will have any deep loyalty to Sir Roger.

Once we have done what needs doing they can be released. I want no unnecessary deaths on my hands. The lady of Duffdour, having a quarrel to settle with Sir Roger Colby, must be the one to gain us entry to this house," the king concluded.

"It is past the dawn now," Hercules Hepburn noted. "Someone is certain to be stirring within.

Now is the time for us to strike, my lord."

The king nodded. "We will take the house, bring Sir Roger to justice, and release any others within. Then we will fire the house so that no other English may shelter in it, and use it as a base from which to raid into Scotland," he said.

There were murmurs of agreement from the other lairds and their captains. Better to return home with all of the men you departed with than to leave widows and orphans. The laird of Duffdour sighed, then, looking at Ellen, took up her hand and kissed it. Words between them were not necessary. He knew she must do what she must do. The clansmen dismounted their horses and, opening the gates to one of the large pens, drove the animals into it for safekeeping. The creatures would not be visible from the house.

Then the men began to move stealthily across the clearing toward the house. The area was still dim with the early hour, but they nonetheless kept to the shadows. They surrounded the house, blocking the two other entrances that they found. The largest group, headed by the king and Duncan Armstrong, hid themselves in the shadows by the front entrance to the house as Ellen stepped forward and knocked loudly. Within, all was silent. She pounded upon the door again, this time crying out loudly for help.

"Let me in! Let me in!"

In the silence that followed she heard a shuffling step approaching the door. Then a voice demanded, "What is it you seek here?"

"Please," Ellen replied. "I was set upon by robbers trying to reach my sick mother. My horse has been stolen, and my purse. I am but a woman alone. Help me, I beg of you, for God‘s good mercy," Ellen pleaded.

There was a long pause, and then they heard the metallic scraping of a key in a lock, and the iron bolts keeping the large oak door tightly shut being thrown back. The rusty hinges of the door protested loudly as the door was opened to reveal a wizened old woman. She looked at Ellen and said, "Come in then."

Ellen stepped quickly aside, revealing James Stewart and his companions.

"We shall indeed come in, old mother. Do not scream, for there is only one whose blood need be shed this day, and ‘tis not yours," the king warned.

Her eyes huge in her head, the doorkeeper backed up to allow them inside. They did not shut the door behind them. "What do you want?" she finally managed to say.

"Where is Sir Roger Colby?" the king asked quietly.

"So at last the devil comes to claim his own," the old woman said. "Well, ‘tis not my duty to protect him. I am the housekeeper and the cook here. He‘s upstairs with his whore, and asleep yet, for he was late in the hall. Then he wanted the wench sent to him to assuage his lust. He beat her first, though, for he had caught her sucking cock in the barn earlier. I heard her yelling, and the sound of the strap." She grinned. "Aye, he gave the little bitch a good hiding."

"How many others in the house?" the king asked.

"Only the two who guard his chamber door," the woman said. "The rest are in the barn. ‘Tis not like the old days, when all the local families paid him homage and rode with him through the borders."

"Is the door of Colby‘s bedchamber the only entrance or exit?" the king wanted to know. "And are the windows large enough for a man to escape through?"

"The door is the only way in or out," the woman said. "The casement windows are too small for a man to get through, and even if he did, the drop is too far. He‘d break a leg if he tried. You mean to kill him then. Good! Do the whore too, for she‘s a bad ‘un."

"Which door?" came the next question.

"The last one on the left at the end of the hall," the woman said. "I‘ve helped you. You‘ll not kill me, will you?"

"Gather your possessions up," the king said in a kindly voice, "and you may have a single animal from the stables. Then go, and do not come back." He turned to a young clansman wearing the Bruce plaid, whom he knew by name. "Tad, go with her. My man will help you and see you safely through the glen," he told the woman. "Tell the others she has been given her life and her freedom by the king."

The woman‘s eyes grew round again. "You are James Stewart?" she said.

The king nodded, and the woman knelt, grabbing at his hand to kiss it. "There, woman, none of that," he said, raising her up. "Go!"

"God bless you, Jamie Stewart," the woman said fervently. "And thank you!"

"Young or old," Hercules Hepburn said with a chuckle as the old woman hobbled off with Tad,

"they all love him."

The king grinned. Then he said, "My lords, let us be about our business here."

"My men and I will fetch him down here to the hall, my lord," the laird of Duffdour said to James Stewart.

The king nodded and, taking Ellen‘s hand, said, "Come along, my bonny. We will await the villain together." And he led the way into the hall of the house. It was not a big room, and had but one fireplace. "Your hand is like ice, my bonny. Are you afraid? You need not be."

"I am not fearful," Ellen lied. "I have waited for months to see an end to this, my lord. And too, I do not believe Duncan can be easy until this man is dead. He can never forgive him the harm he did to me, though, praise God and his Blessed Mother, I managed to escape the worst when I fled across the Solway. Surely the holy Mother was with me that day. But I cannot be easy until I see Roger Colby dead with mine own eyes. I can never forget how easily he was able to take me from Duffdour, and I will never again feel completely safe there, or anywhere. That he could trespass on my husband‘s lands and steal me away! And even the men at arms at the door did not know until it was too late."

"Where were they that they were so lax?" the king asked curiously.

"Entertaining the village whore outside the door," Ellen said. "Obviously a man‘s brain and his cock are not connected in any way."

James Stewart grinned. "That, my bonny, is a truth known by most," he agreed.

Several clansmen came into the hall now with two men at arms in their custody.

"What shall we do with them, my lord?" one of the captains asked.

The two men looked frankly terrified.

"I have no quarrel with either of you," the king said. "When this business is done with I will see you are released unharmed. You have the word of Scotland‘s king on that. Will you both remain silent and quiet now?"

The two frightened men nodded simultaneously.

Suddenly from above them came an outraged shriek.

The king smiled. "Ah," he said, "I believe the bedroom has been breached." And he was exactly correct.

The laird and his men had taken the two men at arms quickly and silently, clapping hands over their mouths so they could not cry out as they were hustled downstairs. They waited until the two men were gone, and then, reaching out, Duncan Armstrong‘s fingers made contact with handle of the bedchamber door. Slowly, carefully he opened that door and stepped inside, his men at his back.

Roger Colby lay naked on his bed. He was sprawled upon his belly, one arm over a naked girl who lay on her back, her legs spread wide, her secrets seen by all. The laird of Duffdour recognized the girl, and shook his head. It was Evina, stepdaughter to his son‘s wet nurse, Machara. He wondered what made a girl like that a born whore.

"Wake them up," he said to his captain, Artair.

Artair nodded to several of his men, and two of them immediately yanked the sleeping girl up from the bed. Evina shrieked with both surprise and outrage at this treatment of her person, and when she did Roger Colby‘s eyes flew open to discover the sharp point of Duncan Armstrong‘s sword just touching the beating hollow in his throat.

"Put some clothing on, you little slut," the laird said angrily. Then, turning to his men, he told them, "Take her downstairs and put her with the others. The king will decide what to do with her." He swiveled his head back to Roger Colby. "I cannot say it is good to see you again, my lord."

"Have you come to kill me then?" Sir Roger asked him.

"I should like to kill you," Duncan admitted, "but that decision must be the king‘s alone, and not mine. If it were mine I‘d run you through right now."

"An act hardly worthy of a gentleman, but then, you are a Scot," Colby said insultingly, with a small curl to his lip.

"I don‘t want to die! I don‘t want to die!" Evina screamed hysterically.

"Jesu!" Sir Roger swore. "Will someone please shut the whore up? They are not here to kill you, you stupid slut. They are here to kill me."

The girl had managed to pull on her chemise and her skirts. With a slight nod of his head Duncan Armstrong indicated that she should be removed from the chamber. Two of his clansmen hustled Evina from the room. The laird slowly withdrew the tip of his blade from the Englishman‘s throat. "Get dressed," he said, and then he stepped back from the side of the bed as his men surrounded it, handing Sir Roger his breeks, a camise, his shirt.

Colby arose, pulled a pot from beneath the bed, peed into it, set it down, and then dressed himself quickly, pulling on his boots at the last. "I‘m ready," he finally said. "Where are we going, my lord?"

"Down into your hall," Duncan said. "I did not come alone, but brought you a most distinguished visitor, my lord."

They exited the bedchamber, the laird of Duffdour leading the way, Sir Roger Colby surrounded by the Armstrong clansmen. When they had gained the hall the Englishman was very surprised to see his former captive among the men there, but he said nothing. He was led to stand before a red-haired young man with startling blue eyes. Instinctively he realized who this young man was.

His inbred good manners caused him to offer his best court bow.

"I understand you wish to kill me, Colby," the young man said pleasantly.

"An ugly rumor, my lord," Sir Roger responded.

"Johnston is dead, you know. The poison he carried and put in the Spanish ambassador‘s gift wine was quite lethal," James Stewart said. "How clever of you to send him to do the deed. If he had succeeded no one would have tied it to your master. The rumor would have been circulated that he was an adherent of my late father, God assoil his good and gentle soul," the king finished, crossing himself piously.

"A man ‘tis said that you murdered," came the bold reply, and the clansmen in the hall hissed with their disapproval of the Englishman‘s words.

"I have never done a deed and not owned up to it," the king answered, "and I did not slay my sire; nor was I responsible for his death. You, however, are not as honest as I am. And with Ian Johnston gone, Sir Roger, you have lost your cat‘s-paw. If you dare to kill me yourself, your king cannot possibly restore you to his good graces, I fear. Henry Tudor is hardly secure upon his own throne, and to be found guilty of ordering the assassination of another duly anointed king would surely destroy what small credibility he has managed to earn with his fellow kings.

You have lost your opportunity to regain his favor, and he will not have you back at court. What is left for you, my lord?