Border: The Border Vixen Part 28

Ewan Hay jumped back startled, his hand going to his belt, but seeing Busby, he began to shout. "Who the h.e.l.l locked me in here? Did no one hear me calling?"

"I believed the chamber empty," Busby lied. "I would have thought ye had moved yer possessions to the master's bedchamber by now. The lady is awaiting ye in the hall. I regret the weather is most foul today, sir."

"My lord, ye fool! Ye will address me in future as my lord," Ewan Hay said through gritted teeth. He pushed past Busby and descended the stairs. Shortly the marriage contract signed recently would be blessed by the priest, and then she would be his. She had wanted no celebration. He had seen the pouring rain from his own windows. Good! He would not wait until tonight. They would come back from Brae Aisir chapel, and he would take her to bed immediately. G.o.d only knew he had waited long enough to f.u.c.k her. But first he intended taking a thick hazel switch to her b.u.t.tocks and whipping her until she begged him for mercy. He would curb her defiance immediately. In the next few hours he would teach her obedience to his will, and she would never disobey or challenge him ever again.

He had used the hazel switch to good effect on Flora Kerr so that she had ceased fighting him each time her came to her cottage. Instead, she went to her bed immediately, lay down, and pulled her skirts up so he might take his pleasure of her. He would miss that willingness to obey him, but he would choose another la.s.s in the village to service him when his wife was with child, or when he grew bored with her. He had no desire to use the village wh.o.r.e his men-at-arms used. He wanted a mistress who served him only-a wench who could be taught to obey.

Ewan Hay was so caught up in his thought that it wasn't until he was gone several feet into the hall that he realized it was filled with men-at-arms. And they were not his men. Then at the end of the hall he saw Lord Stewart with the laird, and Maggie. "Yer dead!" his voice croaked. Then Ewan Hay turned to run, only to be stopped by a large hand that clamped onto his shoulder. He recognized the voice of Clennon Kerr, who growled in his ear menacingly.

"Ye canna go yet, sir. My lord wishes a word with ye." The captain half dragged the Hay the length of the hall to stand before the high board.

"I understand ye intended forcing my wife into a bigamous union," Fingal Stewart said. He stood, his big palms flat on the board's surface as he leaned forward to look down at Ewan Hay.

"Yer dead!" the man before him repeated, but his tone was less certain now.

"If I am, 'tis a ghost with whom ye speak, Hay," Fin said. The creature before him was contemptible. A coward, a bully, and worse, a fool. He slammed his hand down hard on the high board. "Do ye believe me to be a ghost, Hay?" The look of fear upon Ewan Hay's face caused Lord Stewart to wonder if the man would shame his name further by soiling himself.

"Nay! Nay! I don't think ye a ghost," Ewan Hay babbled. "But ye were dead! Few survived Solway Moss. There was no ransom demand. Ye had to be dead!" He was going to pee himself, he thought, struggling to gain a mastery of his emotions, his fear.

"So without waiting for some sort of confirmation of my fate, ye marched yerself to Brae Aisir and attempted to take over Dugald Kerr's keep and responsibilities," Lord Stewart said. "And ye tried to take my wife. I must tell ye that I value her far above the Aisir nam Breug, Hay. Had ye harmed Maggie, my bairns, or Dugald Kerr, ye would have faced being hanged at the crossroads for yer insolence."

"I thought ye were dead!" Ewan Hay cried out. "I'll fight ye now, Fingal Stewart!" They weren't going to kill him.

"Fight ye?" Fin laughed scornfully. "Yer a coward, Hay. I won't engage ye in battle. Instead, I'll send ye back to yer brother with my compliments, although I doubt he'll be particularly glad to see ye at this point."

"The other border lords wanted me here," Ewan said.

"They wanted a man younger than our laird, and they didn't trust my wife to do what needed to be done," Fin replied. "By tomorrow those nearest us will know I have returned, and they will spread the word farther abroad. They have no rights to decide anything with regard to Brae Aisir, or the Aisir nam Breug. Not one of them will protest against me. Now one of the servants will go into the courtyard, and call yer captain to ye. When he comes, ye will tell him to gather yer men, and ye will leave Brae Aisir immediately. Do ye understand me?" Fin stared hard at Ewan Hay.

The man nodded.

"I'll go, my lord," Busby said, and hurried out.

"Be careful of the fellow," the laird warned. "He's a dangerous sort, and no more to be trusted than this fool standing before us."

Bhaltair came into the hall, and seeing it filled with Kerr clansmen, stopped where he stood. "My lord?" He looked to Ewan Hay, puzzled.

"Gather yer men," the Hay said. "We are leaving Brae Aisir now."

"But, my lord, yer wedding?"

"The wedding has been called off," Fingal Stewart said. "The lady's lawful husband has returned to claim her, and to claim the keep. Will ye argue the point with me? Or will ye do as ye have been bid?"

Bhaltair looked at the tall man standing behind the high board. He recognized him as a hardened soldier, a man not to be trifled with, and Ewan Hay wasn't worth getting killed over. It had been a different thing when the pickings had seemed easy and simple, but not now. Completely ignoring Ewan Hay, Bhaltair bowed to Fingal Stewart, giving him a sardonic smile as he did so. "I will gather the men immediately, my lord," he said.

Lord Stewart nodded. "My men will help ye," he said. "Clennon Kerr, take those ye need and see the Hay men-at-arms are escorted from the keep. The Hay will join them as soon as they are all mounted." Fin knew as long as he held Ewan Hay in his custody, Bhaltair and his men would cause no difficulty. If anything happened to Lord Hay's youngest brother, they would have to answer for it, and Lord Stewart's word would be taken long before theirs would.

Ewan Hay continued standing. No one invited him to sit. Finally he asked the question he had been dying to ask since he had entered the hall and found Lord Stewart and his men. "How the h.e.l.l did ye get in here?"

"That shall remain my secret," Fin told him. "Possibly 'twas magic, or possibly G.o.d so disapproved of what ye were doing, he aided me."

"The drawbridge is up," Ewan Hay said. "I've always kept it up."

Fin laughed. "Afraid of yer neighbors? Or to keep me out?"

Ewan Hay flushed. "Ye were dead," he muttered.

"Nay, I was not," he said.

"Then why didn't ye return?" Ewan Hay wanted to know.

"That is a story ye'll not be here to hear when I tell it tonight," Lord Stewart said.

"If ye've come back without a ransom, then yer siding with the English, as many of the lords captured at Solway Moss are. King Henry sent them back with gold in their pockets, and instructions to influence French Mary to give our little queen to him for his son to marry one day. Yer a traitor!"

Fingal Stewart's stern face grew dark with his anger. "Do ye truly wish to die, Ewan Hay?" he asked the man. "I am no traitor. I have no English gold in my pocket. I am a Stewart, kin to our late King James."

"Ye think being the king's kinsman exempts ye from disloyalty? What of Angus and Arran and the others who have more often than not betrayed the royal Stewarts?"

"But my branch has never betrayed any Stewart king," Fin replied quietly. "Ever faithful is the motto of the Stewarts of Torra. And we have been. And I am! Should ye ever suggest again that I am not, I will kill ye where ye stand. Today I have returned home to Brae Aisir and retaken the keep without casualties. I am of a mind to be merciful, Ewan Hay, to ye and to yer men. But disparage my honor and my name again, and it is my sword that will pierce yer cowardly black heart!"

At that moment one of the Kerr men-at-arms returned to the hall. He bowed to Fingal Stewart. "The Hay men-at-arms and their captain are outside on the other side of the drawbridge, my lord. They but await the Hay to join them."

"Take him, and put him on his horse. Have Clennon Kerr bring him to the Hay captain." He turned to Ewan Hay. "Do not come back. My mercy is now at an end."

Ewan Hay said nothing further. He turned and followed the Kerr man-at-arms from the keep's hall. It was some time before Clennon Kerr returned to report that he and his men had escorted the Hays several miles beyond the village, putting them on the road that would take them back to Haydoun. He also reported that the rains had stopped and the sun was reappearing.

Dugald Kerr chortled. "G.o.d is smiling on Brae Aisir now that Fin is safe home. We must spread the word about this day. I'll dispatch messengers to our near neighbors. And ye must fetch my great-grandsons home. And wee Annabelle. Ye've not seen yer daughter yet, Fin. She is a bright and bonnie bairn, born the last day of March. She looks like Maggie looked when she was that age, but she has yer coloring."

"We'll fetch the bairns in a day or two," Fin said, looking at his wife. "I would like a few days with Maggie, Dugald."

The laird's eyes lit up, and then he chuckled. "Aye," he agreed. "I'll not argue ye on this, my son."

Maggie blushed at the look in her husband's eyes.

"Yer dressed in black," he said.

"Ye didn't expect me to celebrate a marriage to that coward, did ye?" she replied sharply. "I intended burning the garment afterwards."

"Would ye really have killed him?" Fin wanted to know.

"Aye, I would," Maggie said, her gaze steady. "I would harm my immortal soul by doing so, but rather that than have him touch me, or give me a child I should have had to tear from my womb. Ye are my husband, Fingal Stewart, and had ye indeed been killed at Solway Moss, it would have made no difference to me. I am yer wife. I would have never taken another again to wed."

He stood close to her, his hand caressing her face. How could he have ever forgotten her for even a moment? "I love ye, Maggie mine," he said, "and I promised ye I would be back." Their lips met again in a sweet kiss.

"And I knew ye would not break that promise to me. Not once did I believe, or even sense ye were no longer among the living, Fin. But it grew so difficult, and then no one would listen to me. Then the Hay arrived and took over the keep. The neighboring lairds began demanding that Grandsire marry me off to him. Father David refused, for he knew I was unwilling. So another priest, not so scrupulous, was found. It was so difficult, Fin, and I was beginning to grow weary, but never would I have given in to Ewan Hay."

"I know," he rea.s.sured her. "Yer Mad Maggie Kerr; not some frail creature all sighs and swoons."

"But what kept ye from us, Fin? Why did ye wait so long to return home?"

"Today is Midsummer's Eve," Fin said. "Let me tell my tale tonight as we all celebrate about the Midsummer fire. It is an amazing tale, Maggie mine."

Father David rushed into the hall. "Praise be to G.o.d!" he shouted, clapping Fingal Stewart upon his broad back. "Welcome home, lad! Welcome home!"

Fin burst out laughing. "Ye have no idea how great a part G.o.d played in this, good Father, but I'll be telling the tale tonight."

"Where is that toad of a Hay priest?" Maggie wanted to know.

"They took him with them when they rode through the village," Father David replied. "It was not a pleasant departure. The villagers threw the contents of their night jars on them as they went."

The laird and Fin burst out laughing, and even Maggie was forced to giggle.

"I hope most of it hit the Hay," she said.

"They did save the best for him, and for his priest," Father David admitted. "I must remember to preach a sermon on charity this Sabbath." But he was smiling as he said it, and a small chortle escaped him.

"Come," Maggie said, taking her husband's hand. "We must go into the village so they may see that ye are truly home again."

"I should rather take ye to bed," he whispered in her ear. "It has been close to a year since I've made love to ye, Maggie mine."

She blushed, then smiled at him. "Aye, but I think our pleasure must wait until nightfall, for there is much we must do that our clan folk feel settled and safe again. Only ye and I can do it, my husband."

"Change yer gown, for I would not go into the village with ye in that black crow's garment," he said.

"Ye must wait in the hall," she said with a small smile. "Grizel, come with me."

Maggie hurried from the great hall of the keep, and upstairs to her bedchamber. "What shall I wear for him?" she asked her tiring woman.

Grizel thought a moment. "Wear something simple. A skirt, a blouse, a bit of yer Kerr plaid. Tonight ye can wear the claret red velvet gown I made for ye last winter."

Maggie quickly donned a dark green skirt and a white s.h.i.+rt that laced up the front; then she drew her green Kerr plaid shawl about her shoulders. She had pulled off her stockings and boots. She wanted to be the Mad Maggie of old, bare legged, and barefoot. She loosened her hair from its plait and tucked a small dagger in her wide brown leather belt. "I'm ready," she said, running from the room and back down into the hall.

"I'm ready, Fingal Stewart. Are ye?" she called to him.

He turned from her grandfather, and saw the girl he had raced that day almost six years ago. He grinned. "Aye, Mad Maggie Kerr, I'm ready," he said as he came to join her. Then together they walked from the keep, across the bridge, and down into the village where their clan folk waited.

They came forth from their cottages, smiling and greeting Maggie and Lord Stewart warmly. Maggie stood back, letting her husband play the primary role. He greeted men and women by name. He asked oldsters about their health and aching joints, sympathizing with an understanding nod of his head. He teased the young girls, who giggled and blushed with his compliments. He joined in a game with the men and boys that involved kicking a stuffed sheep's bladder from one end of a field to another. The darkness had lifted with the exit of the Hay and the end of the storm.

It was traditionally the longest day of the year. Dugald Kerr came from the keep to join Maggie and Fin. The clan folk were relieved to see their old laird, for he had been virtually imprisoned in his keep for several months. Maggie left her men together and walked to the tollgate. A small party of merchants was preparing to exit. They were arguing with the gatekeeper. Maggie went to see what the difficulty was.

"I'm telling ye," the gatekeeper said, "ye paid yer toll when ye entered the Aisir nam Breug. Now if ye were entering here, and not exiting ye would pay a toll. But one toll is all ye pay for one trip."

"But," the man in charge of the merchant train said, "when we came up from England in April, we paid at both ends."

Maggie stepped forward. "It's all right, Allen, I'll handle this," she said to the gatekeeper. "Sir, unfortunately while the old laird of Brae Aisir was recovering from a winter illness, and my husband was away, a dishonest man was put in charge here. When it was found out that he was forcing tolls from travelers come up from the south, he was dismissed. Can ye recall what ye paid when ye last traveled through the pa.s.s?"

The merchant named the charge.

Maggie turned to the gatekeeper. "Allen, give the gentleman the amount he has named," she said. Then she spoke again to the merchant. "The Kerrs of Brae Aisir have held this pa.s.s with their English kin for centuries. We are honest folk. I am sorry ye were cheated. Here is yer toll returned to ye. It will not happen again. And when ye return south this time, yer trip will be free."

"Thank ye, good lady," the merchant said. "We could not bring our goods to Edinburgh and Perth were it not for this safe traverse. I should not want it said that I spoke treasonably, but King Henry is not a happy man right now."

Maggie laughed. "I know," she said with a small smile, "but somehow we shall all survive these monarchs and their quarrels, eh?"

The merchant nodded, and then, signaling, he was on his way again.

Maggie turned to her gatekeeper. "Refund any tolls charged when they should not have been," she said. "Why didn't ye come to me, Allen?"

"The Hay removed me from my position," Allen answered her. "He replaced me with one of his own men. Since no one from the village could come or go into the keep held by the Hays, I had no way of speaking with ye, my lady."

"How long did this go on?" Maggie wanted to know.

"Since the pa.s.s opened again this spring," Allen told her.

Maggie walked back through the village and up the hill into the keep to find her Fingal and her grandsire. She told them what Allen had told her, what the merchant party had told her, and what Rafe Kerr, her cousin, had said when she had seen him recently.

" 'Twas a quick and good thought," Dugald Kerr said, "to refund that traveler his coin, la.s.s. Hay would have destroyed our reputation had he been allowed to continue. It will now be known that the Kerrs are once more in charge."

"Stewart-Kerrs," Fin said quietly.

"It pleases me ye would add yer proud name to ours," Dugald Kerr said, smiling.

"With yer approval, of course," Fin told the old man. "The Kerr name should remain connected to the Aisir nam Breug."

Maggie's eyes grew moist. As proud as she was of her family's name, she knew that Fin was equally proud of his family's name, and his descent from a king of Scotland.

It was a generous gesture he was making. "Thank ye!" she told him.

"In the months that I was away from ye," Fin told her, "all I wanted to do was get home, Maggie mine. I own a house in Edinburgh where I was born and raised, 'tis true, but Brae Aisir has been the only real home I've ever had. That is thanks to ye, and to ye, Dugald Kerr. I have always felt welcome here."

"Hush now, laddie," the old laird said, wiping a tear from his own eyes. "Of course ye were welcome from the moment ye arrived. Did I not see a husband for my la.s.s in ye when ye came to me with yer command from the king to wed Maggie?" He chuckled. "I knew ye were the one, and ye were."

"I could have outfought him if ye had not given the match to him just because I fell," Maggie teased her grandfather.

"Ye were on both knees and could hardly draw a breath," Dugald Kerr said dryly, his brown eyes twinkling. He had always been proud of Maggie's fine spirit. "And Fingal was too much of a gentleman to want to blood ye. Of course I called the match. He was worthy of ye when none of the others had been, including that cur Hay."

They all laughed. It had been just a few short years ago and so much had happened since then. Scotland was never as secure as when it had a king on the throne.

"But what kept ye away from us, lad?" the laird asked as he had earlier.

"Tonight," Fin promised once again. "I will tell my tale about the Midsummer fire for all our clan folk to hear."

Maggie left her men folk to go to the kitchen now, and see if there was still time to set out a small feast for the villagers this night. The cook, however, now that the Hay had been driven from the keep, had taken it upon herself to bake enough fresh bread for all. She had sliced cold meats, arranging them upon platters. She had geese and capons roasting upon several spits in her huge hearth. There were several baskets of strawberries, and tiny crisp sweet wafers. Seeing it all, Maggie laughed.

"Did ye at least wait until he was marched away?" she asked the cook.

"I began the moment our clansmen went up the stairs to the hall," the cook replied. "With the young lord leading them, I knew the Hay would be either hanged or driven off within a very short time. I would have hanged him myself from the chimney in Flora Kerr's cottage."