Undeterred by a cold east wind that pushed wispy mares tail clouds, I rode from our cave hideout toward Ingelram, leading a sumpter laden with captured armor and weapons.
Another Ramsay, one of Will’s ilk, had joined us, Sir Duncan Ramsay. He also had escaped the slaughter at Neville’s Cross. In shock, he had been to Edinburgh and brought us the news that King Edward had commanded that no Scots should be allowed to be ransomed and that no one knew how the prisoners fared. But I was sure that the English would have trumpeted the news if David had died from his terrible wounds. Even thinking about the arrowhead buried deep in his face, so deep they must have gone into the bones, made me shudder.
The westering sun had dropped behind the distant hills and was tinting the cloud-streaked horizon dusty pink when I reached the edge of the woods near the fermtoun. A sliver of moon was rising in the east. I pulled up, scanning across the fermtoun and all the fields. Nigell was herding the sheep from the field that was now nearly denuded of stubble. No doubt it would lie fallow, the droppings enriching it for the following year. The farthest fields, already sown, were empty, and the cots sent up twisting strands of smoke from their hearths.
With no sign of strangers, I decided it was safe to ride down. The thud of horses’ hooves and rattle of tack heralded my arrival. Smokey sensed that the long day’s ride was nearly done and pricked his ears forward, quickening his step.
Ingelram started forward from the sheepcote, raising his hand in greeting. Nigell grinned as he closed the gate on the sheep and followed. They were both eager for news, but the horses must be seen first. Nigell helped me remove their tack and bags and led them into the paddock, where we carried buckets of water. The mangers were already filled with hay for the oxen that the horses might share.
“Better you tell us what you have been up to outwith the hearing of the women,” Ingram said when we joined him at the gate.
I briefly explained our attack on the English mason’s caravan. “So, I shall stable one of their rounceys here. Even if it is seen, there is nae way of telling where it came from. And I have two hauberk, swords, and helms that I’ve brought.”
“Och, we can hide all that, but Nigell had a thought. You must ken that the first place raiders look for hidden weapons is in the thatch, so that isnae good.”
That was true. I had looked in thatch myself for hidden treasures.
Nigell scuffed his foot and leaned closer. “We made a kist open at one end instead the top.”
I looked from him to his father, not sure what was the use of such a thing.
“You must have noticed our hay barrack.”
I had thought I’d paid it no mind, so I nodded. Like all such, it was withy built with a removable thatched roof that protected the stored hay. Theirs was taller than a man, and it would take at least four men, arms outstretched, to reach around it.
“We buried the kist in the hay at the bottom,” Nigell said eagerly. “No one would search that deep! But if you ken where it is — just shove a bit of hay out of the way, and there it is!” He grinned proudly.
Grinning, I slapped his shoulder, “That is a braw idea. It is well thought on!”
“But you must be wary nae to lead them here.” Ingelram shook his head, eyebrows drawn together. “The English must be hunting you now. It will be dangerous moving about.”
“They dinnae ken who attacked them or where we come from. But any group of armed men will be assumed guilty. We take care nae to travel on the roads and nae be seen. And our main camp is well hidden.”
“I suppose you learnt from Liddesdale.”
“Aye. So I did.” I had learned that and more. And if he was not returning, if the English would not release him, everything I learned had to be used and more that I had not learned. But that I would think about later. Grinning at Nigell, I said, “Show me this hiding place.”
“You hie to do that, lad.” Ingelram gave me a proud look. “I will fetch Raso and young Gil.”
“Who are—”
“Come on!” called Nigell, cutting me off as he rushed past the sheepcote.
“He means nae offense,” his father said. “When you come back in, I will explain.”
So I followed Nigell.
He scurried around the sheepcote. The dusky evening looked normal and quiet, only an occasional bleat from the sheep breaking the silence. He stopped at the gate of the hay barrack, knelt, and pushed his hands into an open space at the bottom, shoving aside some hay. There was a dark hole. “No one will ever guess it is here,” he whispered. “And it is harder to search than the thatch.”
“You are right.” We carried over what I had brought that only half filled the space, and Nigell quickly pulled hay in front to hide it. “Now, who is this Raso your father went to find?”
“Och, it is Gil you must meet.” Nigell spun and started back for the house, seemingly always in a hurry. “Raso is only his father.”
When I entered the cot, a rushlight burned on the table, adding its faint gleam to the low-burning fire in the central hearth. There was a soft snore from the rear of the house and whispering of childish voices who no doubt were supposed to be going to sleep. Even in late autumn, there would be early rising and morning chores.
Standing beside the hearth, Ingelram introduced me to the two men with him. Raso was a wiry man, thin-faced with a deep scar down his cheek, blue eyes, brown hair mixed with gray, and wearing a sturdy but worn wool tunic and chausses. On his left, he introduced Gil, a well-set young man of about eighteen, wiry like his father with a shock of ginger hair, a turned-up nose, and an open face.
Joneta carried over a steaming jug and filled five tankards. “’Tis an icy night. This will warm you.” Her hand brushed mine when she handed me one, and I trembled. She ducked her head to hide a sideways smile that invited shared glances and laughter, and she withdrew to sit on her stool, eyes modestly down. After a moment, I tore my gaze away and took a drink. The refreshment was welcome on a frosty night, and I let it warm me as I waited for why it was important for me to meet these men.
Raso, who was drinking the ale with relish, informed me that he was the freeholder of the next farm over.
I laid a finger on my cheek at the spot where he was scared and smiled slightly. “I would say you’ve done more than farm in your time.”
“Aye. Like most men of fighting age hereabouts, I followed Liddesdale. Better to fight beside him than be dragged to fight for the English King and the cursed pretender.” He took another drink. “A guard gave me this beauty the day we took Edinburgh Castle.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I was there, but I dinnae recall you.”
He grinned, baring strong, stained teeth. “I recall you, though.” He chuckled. “Liddesdale gave you a right skelping.”
“Aye, that he did.” I had to join in his laugh. “I deserved it, so I did.”
Our laughter died away, and he looked into his cup as though seeking some answer. “And now they’re back, the damned Sassenach. With the same threat as before, now I am afeart they will come for Gilbert.”
Despite being wiry, both had ropy muscles like hawsers. He would be exactly what the English King would want if he ordered the levy raised. He considered Lothian part of England now, so why would he not demand service? He wanted all the fighting men he could raise for his war in France. Looking Gil in the eye, I said, “Your father must have told you that it is nae an easy life.”
Gil gave a scornful puff of breath. “I see that on his face every day. But he has shown me how to use a spear, and I’ve taken rabbits with my bow. I have his brigandine, helm, and gauntlets. I am ready to fight. And better to fight here than over the English Sea and mayhap be buried in some foreign land.”
I nodded. Before I was born, King Robert had commanded that all men with property had to provide themselves with basic armor pieces, so his having a few was no surprise. I was willing to believe that his father had schooled him for the day he would need them.
“They were oiled and put away,” Raso said. “I made sure they would be ready to use.”
He needed to have some understanding that this would be a hard fight. Otherwise, he might fail us and put us all at risk. “We are outnumbered, you ken. And though the English are nae yet hunting us, any armed Scot is their enemy. They’d cut us down in a trice.”
Gil crossed his arms, lips pursed. “You dinnae want me?”
“I want you to ken how hard it will be.” I offered my hand. “But if you are willing, as long as you understand that, we will be glad to have you.”
He looked startled and shuffled his feet, but he grasped my hand with a calloused grip, breaking into a grin.
Nigell straightened his shoulders, standing tall, and exclaimed, “I should go as well. You need all the men you can find. I am as strong as Gil even if he is bigger and older.”
Ingelram’s jaw was working, his mouth clamped in an angry line. “Nae, I need you here until your foster brothers are older. Anyroad, no one would take a lad of fourteen in a levy.”
The lad turned to me, his mouth opened to protest, so I cut him off. “You owe your father obedience and your family your labor. How could I trust you to follow orders if you disobey? If he agrees, you join us when you are of an age to fight.” His face drooped, so I continued. “For now, keep an eye out for caravans moving their supplies and any news that will help us. That is an important job as well.”
Gil slapped his friend on the shoulder. “If you find some for us to ambush, that would be a braw thing.” He winked. “Practice with your bow too. When you kill a rabbit, imagine it a Sassenach.” He turned to me. “When do we leave?”
“Tonight. There is moon enough to travel.”