Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine (reading an ebook TXT) 📕

The sun blazed white now in the high arch of blue and the stones in the dusty road were hot to the touch. Behind them the shoulder of the hill was already afire with budding heather and from the winding, climbing dog roses and the creeping wild thyme came the hum of the scent-loving bees. The children slept and with them the nurse, her head lolling back against the knobbly boll of one of the trees, snores coming from the slack mouth, the bodice of her gown falling carelessly loose, showing a heavy brown breast with its broad, reddened nipple. Aboard the fishing boat the sailors slept beneath the shade of a sail that they had slung across the deck to save the whitened planking from the relentless heat. They had shown no sign of wanting to leave on the turning tide.

It was much later and they were all hungry and thirsty before they heard the clatter of hooves and the jingle of harness in the distance and saw men approaching at last. Will scrambled to his feet, screwing up his eyes in the glare of the evening sun, as he gave his mother his hand. "There seems to be rather a lot of people and no spare horses that I can see, " he commented at last, puzzled.

They stood beneath the clump of trees watching as the horsemen approached. There was no sign of Walter and his brother or Reginald. At the head of the troop rode a redheaded man with a scarlet chevron emblazoned on his surcoat. He reined in near them and looked down from his horse, one eyebrow raised in the thin, tanned face. "Are you good folk on a pilgrimage?" he inquired lazily. His eyes traveled from one to another, surveying them all in turn, missing nothing. Then his gaze came back to Matilda. Imperceptibly it sharpened.

"Surely it's the Lady de Braose?" He spoke so softly she wondered if he were talking to himself. Then he bowed in the saddle, a flash of merriment showing in his green eyes. "May I present myself, my lady. Sir Duncan of Carrick. " He continued to eye her steadily and she felt herself beginning to tremble. His next words horribly confirmed her worst fears. "I only recently returned to Scotland myself. I couldn't help hearing then about your slight altercation with my beloved cousin, King John. "

Out of the corner of her eye Matilda saw Will's hand go to his sword hilt. She bit her lip. "I think you're mistaken, Sir Duncan. " She tried to smile, steadying her voice with an effort.

"Oh, no, my lady, I think not. " He interrupted her before she could deny it. "And I think it would please His Grace mightily if I were to tell him where you are. " He stopped smiling abruptly and gestured over his shoulder.

The troops of men broke rank and the party beneath the trees was surrounded. Will, with an ugly oath, unsheathed his sword and the two knights from Carrickfergus followed suit, putting themselves between the women and Carrick's men. But hardly had Will raised his arm when three armed knights rode him down, and he fell beneath their hooves, his blade flailing uselessly. Mattie screamed and ran toward him, but one of the mounted men, laughing, bent and scooped her slender body into the saddle before him as easily as if she had been a child, and held her there, her arms pinioned helplessly at her sides by his grip.

Sir Duncan sat watching as Will, his face bruised and bleeding, staggered to his feet. "Bind his hands, " he ordered curtly. Dismounting, two of his men forced Will's arms behind him, tying them brutally tight with a leather thong. With an apologetic glance at Matilda her other two knights promptly threw down their swords, and she watched helplessly as they too were bound. "I think you will agree, my lady"—Sir Duncan bowed to her again—"that it would be foolish to resist arrest. " He beckoned forward the young man who had been riding behind him. "My esquire will take you pillion with him. Bring the others!" he ordered his other men. "We'll return to Turnberry tonight. " He wheeled his horse and spurred it toward the edge of the quay, where the sailors, disturbed from their rest, were leaning against the side of their boat watching the proceedings with impassive interest. Sir Duncan felt for his purse and flung a coin negligently across onto the bleached planking. The old man regarded it unmoving.

"Take the news to the king that I have captured the lady he is seeking, " he commanded. "Tell him I'll wait for his instructions at my father's castle of Turnberry. "

The old man chewed his lip indifferently. "I'll sail with the next tide, sir. I'll see that your message is given. "

Matilda, from her seat behind young James Stewart, wondered if there was any pity in the old man's eye as he watched them wheel their horses and ride away.

They rode inland as the dusk fell, following the clearly marked road across the open flats and into the woods. At Craigcaffie the men lit burning torches to light their way as they followed the track around Loch Ryan and followed the coast road north. They rode fast. Matilda was forced to cling to the waist of the young man in front of her, half conscious of the glitter of starlit water to their left, half blinded by the streaming torch held by the rider who galloped at their right-hand side. She rested her head against the broad back before her and closed her eyes; beyond the circle of light and the thundering hooves there was nothing but darkness and despair. Somewhere close to her, among the riders, she could hear a child crying bitterly and she knew it was little John. She ached to hold him and comfort him and she tried