The Highwayman's Curse Read online

  That too was a reason not to hold onto anger. Did not Shakespeare say, “blood will have blood”? It would never end, it seemed to me – the circle of revenge and anger and hatred would spin for ever. Almost beyond living memory, Old Maggie’s mother had been killed for her religion. And still Old Maggie and her family hated Catholics because they answered to the Pope, and Episcopalians because they answered to bishops, and even any Protestants who believed God spoke through an earthly king. But did we not all have the same God? What would He say about such anger?

  I did not understand, only that I had no will to be part of it.

  “Be careful your anger does not turn you mad. Like that wizened old woman, muttering about curses.” There was spite in my voice.

  Now her anger blazed out. “Do not tell me how I should live! You’ve not had to suffer as I have, rich boy that you are! And how dare you speak of Old Maggie like that? She is strong. Her anger and her hatred make her strong. I should not be ashamed to be like her!”

  She turned away from me now. To quarrel with her was not what I wanted. I did not wish to lose her friendship.

  And so I told her I was sorry. I was sorry – for many things, for the obstacles fortune had placed in her path. But I do not think I was wrong.

  She looked at me, her face milk-white in the moonlight. “Do not condemn Old Maggie,” she said more softly now. “I wish to be her friend. I understand her.”

  Oh, I could understand Old Maggie. But that did not mean I thought her right.

  Later, as Bess and I prepared to go to bed, I think there was some slight chill between us, though we tried to hide it with conversation. Old Maggie was already asleep in her box-bed, and Jeannie had closed the curtain round her for warmth. I was glad not to be able to see her, though I could hear her rough breathing.

  As I lay wrapped in a blanket, on a lumpy pallet that was too thin, I stared into the softly hissing embers, and tried to sleep. I did my best to settle my thoughts. I tried to tell myself that I would stay for a while, and that Bess would soon tire of the company of these people. Then she and I could leave together, move west, or north, or anywhere we chose. Even America! Many people did so, I knew. We could start a new life there. But I would not say anything to Bess now, would not try to persuade her. I knew her to be stubborn – she would not wish to feel that she was being pushed.

  I would be patient. I would pretend to be content with these people, joining their smuggling activities, doing what was necessary. And when the time was right, Bess and I would leave. Together.

  First, however, ill luck played its part. For that night, in the darkest hours, when sleep is deepest and when dreams and demons play with our fears, we were woken to terrible news.

  Iona was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I do not recall what sound woke me first. Was it Jeannie’s screams? The shouting of men? Was it the crashing against our door? “Open up!” Thomas’s voice was raw and full of agitation. Bess and I scrambled to our feet, pulling on such clothes as we could find in the dark.

  I felt sick with panic, as I struggled to grasp what it was we should fear. Bess hurried to light two candles from a glowing ember, and handed one to me. As I unbarred the door, it flew open.

  “’Tis Iona! They have taken her!” Thomas’s face was rigid. This was his daughter. This his worst fear.

  “Get your boots on. We are riding after them,” he shouted, turning and running towards the stable. Setting my candle on the table, I rushed to pull my boots on, fumbling with my stockings, and then my coat, fastening the buttons as best I could.

  A sound came from behind the curtains of the bed where Old Maggie lay. I parted them slightly, thinking to look in and reassure her, but I saw even by the dim candlelight that she slept peacefully and only murmured in some dream. She was better not knowing. And I was better not hearing her talk of curses. Snuffing out the candle once more, I left her sleeping, closed the curtains behind me and rushed out with Bess, leaving Maggie in darkness.

  In the dimly moonlit yard, by the door to the other cottage, was only more confusion as the men argued about what to do. Thomas and Calum wished to ride after them, knowing that they would be heading towards their lair. But how long since Iona had been gone? They could be safe in Douglas Murdoch’s tower by now.

  Red also wished to ride after them. He struggled to tie his belt round his waist, to hold his trousers up. Billy stood twisting his hands in distress, knowing not what to say, waiting only for instructions. Mouldy, carrying two burning torches, tried to argue for waiting till daylight, but his voice was barely heard.

  Jeannie, her eyes wide and hollowed in the light of the torch she also carried, looked to Jock. “What will we do, Jock? Surely ye’ll go after them? Ye canna leave wee Iona, no’ even for a night. Who kens what could happen to her? If I could get my hands round that man’s neck, I would kill him!”

  “Hurry, for God’s sake!” shouted Calum now, his voice tight with fear for his sister. He was already on his pony. Thomas had one foot in the stirrup and now swung into the saddle. Red was fumbling to saddle his pony.

  “No!” said Jock now.

  “Aye!” urged Thomas. “We canna wait!”

  “’Tis foolish,” said Jock. “Think on it carefully. No harm will come to her this night.” I was not so sure of this, but I kept my silence. Some things are better not spoken aloud. But Jock was still speaking. “We go in the morning, when ’tis light. We take money and we offer a ransom.”

  “A ransom?” shouted Thomas now. I had not seen him so angry before. “A ransom? We should kill them all for this!”

  “Aye, that we should!” Red was in rare agreement with his brother. “And the moon is clear enough – we need no’ wait for morning, when it might be too late.” He picked up his club and slapped it hard into the palm of his hand, with a loud thwack, and began to mount.

  It was at that moment that I saw a shadow move, out of the corner of my eye. Over by the door of our dwelling. I narrowed my eyes to see more clearly. There was nothing. But did I not also hear a small noise, as of something moving? I thought I did. Yet it was impossible to be sure.

  Bess saw me look. I shook my head. “It was nothing,” I muttered.

  Besides, I had begun to be properly awake. Questions clamoured to be answered. How had intruders come into our midst so silently? Was no one guarding? How could they have entered the dwelling, without waking someone? I suppose they must have waited till Iona went outside, perhaps to go to the latrine. But they must have waited for a long time. How had no one seen or heard?

  It did not seem possible.

  And so I asked, “How did they enter? How did no one notice?”

  “What are ye saying, lad?” Red snarled.

  “Only that they must have been very quiet,” I said, levelly.

  “Are ye saying that I was no’ watching? Is that what ye’re saying?”

  Jock moved between us. To me he said, “Red was guarding. He went behind the cottage once because he thought he heard a noise. And when he finished his turn and came to get Mouldy, he saw Iona was no’ here.” It seemed reasonable.

  “Are ye coming or no’?” shouted Thomas.

  And that was when I heard something else. The sound of a horse’s hoofs, galloping. As one, we turned, all hearing it at the same time.

  Spread on a hillside not far away, was a small wood. Out of its darkness, a horse was moving. A single horse, with a rider, clear even in the light of the half-moon on this near cloudless night. “Follow me!” cried Thomas, glad now to be able to act. And he and Calum rode apace from the farmyard, followed closely by Red, and the clatter and clash of their hoofs rang around us as they rode away.

  “Stay,” said Jock to the rest of us. “There’s no more to be done till morning. They’ll no’ catch him.” His voice sounded very tired now and he pressed his forehead with his fingers.

  I knew he was right, but they had disobeyed him. He walked back to the dwelling as though broken
, not thinking even to comfort his own wife. Jeannie, meanwhile, clasped her hands in silent prayer for some moments. Then she put her shoulders back, straightened herself, drew her cloak round her and went after her husband. The rest of us followed, to wait with them until the others should come back, but Jeannie turned and spoke to me and Bess.

  “Ye should rest and wait for morning. There’s nothing to be gained wi’ all o’ us waiting up. Go and see that Old Maggie needs nothing.”

  So Bess and I returned to our cottage, saying little. What could we say? This was a cruel world we had found ourselves in. To think on what might happen to Iona was not easy, and so I tried to put it from my mind.

  And I could not say who was right – Jock, or Thomas, Red and Calum.

  After finding our way back to our sleeping places in the dark, we lay down. But we did not sleep. We had no chance. For almost as soon as I wrapped the blanket round me once more, a piercing noise tore through the night.

  Old Maggie was screaming.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I was on my feet in an instant. Quickly, Bess was beside me, a candle in her hand. Old Maggie was thrashing about behind her curtains but before we could reach her, a figure had climbed out. It was Iona. Standing in her shift, looking frightened.

  “What are you doing here?” Bess and I demanded together.

  “How long have you been here?” I added.

  Iona shook her head. “I canna remember.”

  “You had everyone fearing for you!” exclaimed Bess. “Your father and brother have gone in search of you. Red, too. They saw a horseman.” Iona looked startled – worried, I supposed, for her family riding off into the night.

  “Why were you here?” I asked again.

  “I… Mebbe I was walking whiles asleep. I canna remember anything.” She rubbed her eyes and shivered. I moved to fetch a cloak for her. Bess, meanwhile, went to comfort Old Maggie.

  As I put the cloak round the girl’s shoulders, I saw her troubled eyes. She shivered with more than cold.

  And I knew why. Or I knew a part of why. Though I could not begin to guess the rest. I spoke quietly so that Old Maggie would not hear. But Old Maggie was railing and cursing and pointing wildly at Iona, while Bess tried to calm her. I did my best not to listen to the words. “I curse their heid an’…”

  “Tell me the truth, Iona,” I said softly, turning her shoulders to look at me. She twisted her face away but I held her firm.

  “’Tis the truth. I’ve walked whiles sleeping afore.”

  “Our door was bolted,” I said.

  “A window is open,” she said. And it was. I had not noticed, as the shutter was almost closed, but when I went to it now I saw that the catch was off. I cursed our carelessness, though it was impossible to imagine a man climbing through such a small space.

  But I had some extra knowledge, which she could not have known I had. “You were not here when we left to search for you. I know. I opened the curtains of Old Maggie’s bed to see if she was asleep.”

  And now her eyes looked the more afraid. Her lips began to move but no sound came out. There was bad trouble in her, and I knew not what it was. She glanced at Bess and the old woman but they took no notice of us. And now Iona turned to me. “Please!” she whispered. “Please, dinna give me away! They would kill me if they knew! Please!”

  I thought she exaggerated. Why would they kill her? Had they not ridden out by night to save her, to find her and bring her home safe? Did they not plan to kill Douglas Murdoch and his men rather than hand her over? She was a silly girl to be so afraid.

  “Why were you in our cottage? Why did you not return to your own bed?”

  “Ye all stood close to the door. Ye would’ve seen. But this door was open and I slipped in.” Still she shivered. But her voice had the air of truth.

  Old Maggie now was calm. Bess stroked her forehead as she lay there. Still she muttered and when she saw Iona again she scowled.

  “I’ll take Iona and show the others she is safe,” I said now. “Someone will need to ride after the men.”

  “But…” said Iona.

  “Come with me,” I said firmly, and took her arm, guiding her out of the cottage. Some clouds had begun to cover the sky and the moon was not visible now. As we slowly picked our way like blind men across the yard, she urged me again and the tremor in her voice was no pretence.

  “Please, dinna tell them I was no’ there afore! Please! Ye dinna understand! They will kill me!”

  I did not believe her words, but I believed her fear.

  “Then tell me where you were.”

  “No!”

  “Then I cannot help you.”

  “I was … I was wi’ … a lad. We love each other!” she blurted out.

  I laughed. It was the way she said it. But she was serious. I saw it in her eyes and the way they sang with the truth of her words.

  “And they will kill you for that?” I asked, in jest. Surely they would be happy? It could be new blood for their group. Perhaps it would help Old Maggie think the better of her if she settled down and made a marriage for herself. She was not too young for her family to think of such things.

  But a small doubt crept to the edge of my thoughts and just before we came to the door, I repeated my words, though more softly this time. “They will kill you for that?”

  “Aye,” she said, simply, her voice fragile. Could she be right?

  And then, as I rapped my hand against the door to the dwelling and called out that I was there, I understood suddenly why she thought they would kill her.

  The boy she loved worshipped God in the wrong way.

  But surely, this would not be enough for them to want her dead? I could not believe it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I needed to know more, much more, but there was no time now. The door was hauled open and there were Jeannie and Mouldy. Billy stood behind. With a cry, Jeannie spread her arms and took Iona to her. Her words tumbled over each other.

  “Oh, thank the Lord ye are safe! Where have ye been? Oh, how afeard I was!” Then she looked at me, her eyes bright with tears above Iona’s flame-red hair.

  “She was asleep in Old Maggie’s bed,” I explained. “She must have come there in her sleep.”

  “Aye! Aye! I mind she has walked while sleeping once afore, but just into the yard and we found her standing there. But the door – was it no’ bolted fast?”

  “Perhaps she came in when I left for a few moments. I did so more than once. I had some stomach pains.” I did not look at Iona’s face as I lied for her. But I was angry with her, angry that I found myself in this position, lying for a silly girl who would cause nothing but trouble.

  And yet, why should she not love whom she wished? Why should it matter how the boy worshipped God?

  But I would rather she did not love him. It would be the cause of endless trouble. And although perhaps she exaggerated when she said they would kill her, yet surely ill would come of it.

  Could I persuade her to leave this boy alone? If I could make her fear the results of her love, then perhaps she would change her heart.

  Yet why should I mind? I did not care for her overmuch. She was like the froth on waves, without strength or substance. Pretty, of course, with that river of tumbling red hair, and eyes the colour of sea moss, and her cheeks with their sandstorm freckles, but a girl to be looked at and not listened to. A silly girl, not worth the fuss.

  But I felt sorry for her, trapped as she was by walls not of her own making. This dangerous love was not of her making either. And by loving someone forbidden by ugly rules, did she not show spirit? Was she not, in her way, fighting against the terrible hatred of Old Maggie and the others?

  So, was she not right? And strong and brave?

  And as Iona disentangled herself from Jeannie’s embrace, and as Jeannie began now to scold her for the trouble she had caused, the girl looked at me. I saw her eyes then, and there was no fear in them at all. With a small, tight smile, she th
anked me without words and I knew then that I would continue to help her.

  Because I pitied her, yes. But also because I believed she was right to love whom she wished to love.

  I did not like these people and their hatred. They were poisoned by it and if Iona was strong enough to fight against such poison, then she deserved my help.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  We slept no more that night. Mouldy had ridden fast to tell Thomas and the others of Iona’s return. It surprised me greatly that he managed to catch them, but I learnt that in such times they used a system of signals, using fires on a hilltop, or lanterns, or burning peat brands, and sometimes by imitating the call of curlews – though they might regard these birds as traitors, yet they would use them.

  They had not reached Douglas Murdoch’s place, for the fleeing horseman had led them in a different direction, and then they had lost him. And so they had returned, and were now full of joy at Iona’s safety.

  I wondered if they would be as pleased if they knew the whole truth.

  Soon a raw morning light spread across the sky and daylight brought much activity. All of us had our allotted tasks: cleaning, repairing, cutting wood, preparing food. I cleaned out the shed where the horses were. This was a task I had no need to undertake at home, having always had servants to do such things for me. Throwing filthy straw onto a pile with a pitchfork, sweeping the floor and washing it down with many buckets of water from the well, was pleasant work indeed. Good, honest work. Having only the horses for company made it all the better and soon my tiredness began to fade.

  The ponies were in a large sloping area behind one of the cottages, enclosed by a ramshackle wall. The two cows were outside the wall, untethered, grazing on what they could find, though the grass did not look plentiful yet and the ground was marshy in parts. One cow swung its full udders; the other cow seemed smaller, younger, and followed it as though it was the larger one’s calf. I let the horses into the field, and watched in pleasure as I saw them run, kicking their heels in play, twisting and turning as they enjoyed the spring weather. The ponies began to gallop with them. At the bottom of the slope, they turned and galloped back towards me.