‘You were always far better at the tricks than the rest of us. You had a knack. Use the whip on Snodd if he’s awkward.’
Henry whistled and his mare came cantering to the courtyard. He was about to leave when he remembered Walter’s advice. He ran back and retrieved his whip, smiling at childhood memories as he vaulted lightly into the saddle. When he, Thomas, Walter and Zander had been young there had been a man living in the glen who could perform all manner of tricks with his horse. He had come from Ireland with his father. No one knew his real name; they all called him Paddy. He had taught Anna and him to ride their ponies. He tried to teach Anna some of his tricks and they had all begged him to teach them too. Henry remembered how astonished they were when he was the one who excelled. He was more slightly built, athletic and nimble on his feet. Most of all it pleased Paddy because he was patient and kind with his pony. The Irishman had declared he had a way with animals that few people possessed. It had enabled him to perform some of the feats Paddy had shown them. Now he flicked his whip up at a branch and curled it round like an expert. He smiled, pleased he had not forgotten the knack. A little further on he patted Moonlight and talked softly, preparing her before he lassoed another branch with equal skill. Henry’s mind was on the far off days when he could do no wrong in his father’s eyes, even though he was no good at wrestling or shooting, as Zander and Walter were. Since he became a man…but that was the trouble he didn’t feel as other men seemed to feel…
Nell’s screams broke into his reverie. Moonlight pricked up her ears and bounded up the track at a gallop when Henry urged her forward. Snodd was surprised by Henry’s appearance but he had no qualms about dealing with the laird’s baby-faced son. Henry rarely, if ever, lost his temper but the sight of the filthy brute trying to haul Isabella towards his cottage and the expression of horror and disgust on his wife’s sweet face filled Henry with an anger he had never before experienced.
‘Take your filthy hands off my wife!’ he bellowed.
‘Your wife! She needs a real man to…’
‘Let her go I said,’ Henry spoke more quietly now, but his voice held a steely anger which surprised Isabella in a man as gentle as Henry.
‘And what will a pup like you do when I refuse?’ Snodd sneered. Isabella was pulling back harder than ever, digging in her feet to keep as far away as possible from Snodd’s stinking body and foul breath. Henry calmed his mare as he edged nearer. Snodd was totally unprepared for the long leather thong which suddenly snaked around his thick neck, making his large Adam’s apple bulge even more than usual. He was mesmerised. His grip slackened. Isabella tore herself away and ran to Henry. He spoke quietly but he did not take his eyes off Snodd. He was playing the whip, tightening like a fisherman plays a fish and the man’s eyes goggled. ‘Go to the grass bank and sit quietly Isabella. You’re safe now but you’ve had a shock. Please,’ he said with quiet authority, ‘do as I say.’ He glanced across at Nell cowering a little way away, grasping the stick as though her life depended on it.
‘Nell have you collected your bundle?’ Henry asked.
‘N-no. I’d rather do without than…’
‘Stay where you are until I tell you to move.’ Deftly he raised the handle of the whip and with a twirl he uncurled the leather from around Snodd’s neck. He put up his filthy hands to massage it. Before he could guess what was happening the whip curled again, about his upper body, binding his arms against his chest this time. Henry sprang from his horse, ran around him with the whip and vaulted back on again before Snodd’s slow brain had time to realise he was now securely bound by a double band of leather. Henry moved his horse slowly backwards and the thongs tightened.
‘Stop! Ye’re hurting me. I’ll…’
‘It will hurt a great deal more unless you follow me.’ He turned Moonlight and began to walk up the slope in the direction Isabella and Nell had come from Anna’s. Snodd was a heavy man and strong but Henry kept a firm grip on his whip, guiding the mare with his knees and softly spoken commands. Snodd’s dull brain thought he had no option but to follow horse and rider or feel the pain in his arms and back grow worse. It didn’t occur to him to struggle.
‘Nell you are safe now,’ Henry called over his shoulder. ‘Collect your things from the cottage then go back to Moyenstane with your mistress. I shall catch up with you both before you reach home.’ Nell hesitated a moment or two but she was overcome with admiration at the way Master Henry had handled the whip and defeated Snodd. She ran to the cottage and collected her pathetically small parcel containing everything in the world she possessed. She joined Isabella. How pale her mistress looked, she thought in alarm, and it was all her fault. They set off, wondering how far Henry would lead Snodd up the track before he let him go.
Although Snodd was strong he was not used to walking far and he was soon out of breath as he stumbled along behind Henry’s horse, mumbling and cursing. He was still perplexed at the way Henry had tricked him. It had to be witchcraft. What else could give a weakling like Henry Douglas power over him, Judd Snodd.
They were up the hill and halfway down the other side before Henry drew to a halt and turned Moonlight’s head for home.
‘Turn around, Snodd. Not that way you fool!’ he said in exasperation as the leather thong began to wrap around Snodd a third time. ‘Turn the other way.’ The thong uncurled once and Henry couldn’t resist trying one more trick before the big man gathered his wits and realised he only needed to turn again to free himself. Henry lifted the handle of the whip and with a swift flick of the wrist he swiftly uncurled the thong altogether, lifting it high above Snodd’s head. He urged Moonlight forward a few steps then turned to flick Snodd’s cheek with the tip of the leather, leaving a red wheel but without breaking the skin.
‘If you dare to touch my wife again, or anyone from my household, you can expect a public whipping so severe you will not sit down for three weeks and you will probably hang on the end of a rope then.’
‘You’ll pay for this, you and your lady wife,’ Snodd muttered furiously. ‘Jud Snodd never forgets.’ Henry ignored the curses as he rode away. When he looked back he saw Snodd still sitting on the ground recovering. His only concern now was for Isabella and her condition. He was not concerned for his own safety but he knew he had made an implacable enemy. He decided to inform his father of the day’s events. He would be furious with Snodd and ensure the man dare not harm Isabella or Anna when they visited each other.
Sir William called on Snodd the next morning. He issued such strong warnings of hanging the man from the nearest tree if he so much as spoke to Isabella and Anna or molested Nell, or any other young girl, that Snodd agreed meekly.
‘I’ll do as ye say, Sir, but I beg ye no more witchcraft.’
‘Witchcraft? What are you talking about man?’
‘Master Henry. He’s no more like a man in size or strength than when he was a youth. He used magic. How else could he overpower Jud Snodd?’
‘So it’s true, Henry got the better of you,’ Sir William mused. ‘Well, well….’ He hummed happily all the way home. Henry was proving to be more of a man than he had dared to hope. He must have used his wits to overcome a big brute like Snodd.
Although Isabella was shocked and tired by her encounter she suffered no ill effects. After a good night’s rest she was up and busy with her chores as usual. Two nights later as the harvest moon sailed around the heavens she welcomed Zander to her chamber as eagerly as on the first night he had come to her and taught her what it was to be loved as a woman. He treated her almost reverently now and loved her with a gentle tenderness. She loved the way he stroked her stomach and murmured, ‘I can’t believe our baby lies here.’
When all the oat harvest had been safely gathered in from the fields and the glen settled down to prepare for the winter Henry decided to make a journey to the monastery where Father Oliver resided, but when he mentioned his intention to his father, Sir William flew into a rage.
‘Monastery? I thought you
had put all that nonsense out of your head since you took a wife. Why can’t you make do with the church like the rest of us?’
‘I want to journey to the monastery and consult Father Oliver before the winter comes and Isabella’s time draws near. We need to stock up our supply of medicines and I want to know if he can recommend anything to ease the pain of childbirth, or make it safer. Father, you of all men, must remember my mother and my aunt died giving birth to your children. Are you not afraid you may have wished the same fate on Isabella?’ Sir William’s face paled. He felt Henry was accusing him of causing the death of the woman he had loved so dearly, as well as her sister, the woman he had married and who had borne him Anna and Henry. He sighed, remembering. She had looked so like her twin, but she had lacked the spirit and passion. It had been a marriage of convenience for both of them and provided a home for Zander, the young nephew she had truly adored.
‘They were slightly built, like you, too narrow to give birth easily. Thank God Anna is more like me. Isabella is different too. There is no reason why harm should befall her. Birth is part of nature.’
‘Maybe, but many women die in childbirth. I intend to visit the monastery and bring back anything which might help,’ Henry insisted stubbornly.
‘Isabella’s mother has borne six children and reared five of them.’
‘Her mother had only one baby at a time. Have you forgotten I was a twin?’
‘That doesn’t mean Isabella will have twins.’ He looked sharply at Henry. He often thought the boy knew things the rest of them could not comprehend. Even his tenants sent for Henry if a ewe, or a cow, could not give birth. ‘Are you thinking Isabella might have two babies?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. There are still four more moons to pass. She seems large already.’
‘I see,’ his father said, stroking his short beard thoughtfully. ‘Then take Zander with you if you must go.’
‘Zander?’ Henry laughed. He would not thank me for taking him to see Father Oliver, and he has things to prepare before winter .’
‘You should not journey alone. You may be set upon by men like Snodd.’
‘I shall leave tomorrow. Only Isabella and you will know where I have gone.’
‘You have always preferred your own company, but I don’t like it. Make sure you take your pistol, and have your dirk handy, even when you sleep. I know Zander brought back a set of fine pistols for you, and for Walter. Even if you don’t shoot him it will frighten off an attacker.’
‘Very well, Father, if that pleases you. I shall not trust Snodd to shoe my horse. He might make her lame deliberately. I shall ride north. Within our boundary there is a young man who has set up a forge. I have used him before. He is very good. He fashions the shoes to fit each of the horse’s feet and puts them on while it is hot and nails it in place.’
‘Very well. That will make your journey a longer but at least you will not need to spend so much time in lands belonging to the Kerrs. They have long memories and they’re old enemies of mine and my grandsires. They would hang you for being a Douglas, however innocent you might be. Every traveller should be allowed twelve hours to pass through unmolested according to King James’s latest laws, but I don’t trust the Kerrs. They could take you prisoner then say you had stayed too long.’
‘I don’t trust them either, whatever the King might decree.’ Henry agreed.
The following morning Isabella rose early to help Henry prepare, making sure he had the legs of a freshly cooked fowl wrapped in oiled cloth, a chunk of cooked beef, as well as bread & cheese and a flagon of ale. She had also included a small bag of oatmeal.
‘My father told me that soldiers on the march always carry oatmeal so they can mix some with water and bake it over a fire on their own metal plate if there is no other food at the start of the day. He always carried some when he went on journeys.’ Henry smiled at her.
‘I’m not a soldier but I may be thankful for your preparations, dear Isabella.’ He had his fur lined cloak and a large piece of tightly woven material which Isabella had greased well on one side to keep out the rain if he should need to make a shelter. She helped him pack his bags with two changes of clothes, wrapping them around Father Oliver’s books to hide them from his father’s sharp eyes.
‘Are you sure you should be travelling without a companion, Henry?’ she asked anxiously. William Douglas smiled as he heard her concern.
‘I have no fears when I am alone,’ Henry assured her. ‘Even the most spiteful of enemies can scarce believe a single traveler comes to plunder their wealth or their animals. I have my short sword, as well as my dirk.’ He knew that even churchmen carried a weapon of some kind when travelling, however harmless their mission.
‘Then please wear your steel jacket. She held up the sleeveless quilted jerkin which had a lining of many metal plates sewn together for protection to the upper body. It was less heavy and cumbersome than full armour.’ Henry gave in, knowing there was always the possibility of an attack, especially at this time of year when many reivers grew restless.
‘Isabella is right. Take your steel bonnet too. Tie it to your harness if you don’t need to wear it,’ his father advised. ‘Here are coins to buy food along the way.’ William handed Henry a leather pouch. ‘And keep these hidden well in case you need to buy your freedom,’ he added gruffly, handing over a smaller pouch containing gold coins. He knew some of the wardens and their underlings ignored the twelve hour rule of freedom to pass through. They took strangers as prisoners to gain reward, only allowing them freedom on payment of a hefty fine. He had no desire to see Henry imprisoned, or hung, for lack of money. Such things had happened often in his own youth, and more so in the time of his father and grandfather. The Douglas Clan had been far from blameless and memories were long and bitter. Henry smiled as he accepted the pouches. His father loved him, for all he was such a disappointment as a man.
That night when Isabella blew out the candle and snuggled beneath her bedclothes she was surprised how much she missed Henry’s presence, lying beside her in the darkness. He never touched her, or kissed her goodnight, and he rarely talked when he came to bed, even though they discussed many things during the day. The truth was she felt lonely up here at the top of Moyenstane Tower, even with Nell on the other side of the thick oak door. She was almost asleep when she heard a scrabble behind the panelling. She tensed. There was no moon tonight to light the way to the hidden entrance which both Henry and Zander used. She knew it was some distance away. She sat up and fumbled for the candle.
‘Hello?’ she called, keeping her voice low in case Nell should hear.
‘Hush, my darling,’ Zander whispered back, ‘’tis only me.’
‘I didn’t expect you tonight, Zander, but I am so happy you have come.’
‘I could not resist the temptation, knowing you were up here alone.’ There was laughter in Zander’s deep voice as he cast off his clothes and snuggled in beside her.’
‘I was feeling lonely,’ Isabella confessed. ‘I didn’t think I would miss Henry but I do. Do you think he will return safely from his journey to the monastery?’
‘Try not to worry, my love. Henry has been to the monastery twice before. He prefers to travel alone. For a man who shuns adventure it is strange he has no fear, but he avoids his fellow men whenever possible.’ He drew her into his arms and loved her tenderly. He wished with all his heart she belonged to him.
‘I cannot come to you every night while Henry is absent, my dearest. I must take my turn on watch. As it is Walter and Thomas wonder why I avoid being on duty on moonlight nights. It is not easy to creep silently from my bed when there is not a chink of light and Uncle William would demand to know what I was about if he heard me.’
‘I understand, Zander,’ Isabella whispered softly. ‘It would be dreadful if we were discovered. Henry has told me how ruthless his father can be if any man deceives him. She shivered and Zander’s arms tightened around her. He had already made up his mind to journey
across the sea to Europe as soon as he knew she was safely delivered. He dreaded the birth. For the first time in their lives he was jealous of Henry. He would not be able to visit Isabella in her bedroom, and he could never claim the child as his. He knew how delighted and proud William Douglas would be to have a grandson bearing his name.
***
In 1605, in an effort to bring peace to his Border lands, King James had brought in a rule that a day of truce should be held each month. Wardens from the English Marches should meet their opposite number from the Scottish Marches and a jury of six from either side must be assembled to mete out justice. Sir William considered meeting every month was too often, except when there had been a spate of raids. These seemed to occur at certain times of the year, or after a bad season when families were hungry and stealing seemed the only solution, but there were always villains who enjoyed raping and pillage for the sheer hell of it, regardless of the misery they left behind. In his youth William Douglas had been a wild warrior himself, though he had never taken a woman against her will and he despised men who did. As a more mature man, and being responsible for both his clan and the wardenship, Sir William now agreed truce days should be observed and punishments agreed. Even so both he and Herries, his English counterpart, often delayed for several months, especially in summer when men, women and children were busy gathering in precious crops for the winter.
So when Sir Gordon Herries, sent two messengers requiring a truce day without delay William Douglas knew he would be unwise to postpone it, but he was reluctant to leave his home territory at this time. Henry was away from home. It was customary to be accompanied by several armed men when a warden went to the truce days, which were held close to the Border. Zander had become a natural leader for their own guards and he and Walter, now his son-in-law, usually accompanied him. He didn’t want to leave Anna and Isabella unattended in their present condition and he guessed Walter would be reluctant to leave his young wife. Consequently he sent word with Herries’s messengers that he would agree to the truce day if Herries was willing to travel to Moyenstane Tower. He would guarantee him and his men safe passage, though he could not vouch for the Kerrs or the Armstrongs.
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