and trotted on, hoping that Hugh was safe in the Moss as I tried to remember my instructions.
The Black Yett was ill marked by two large stones like the ones the ancient Druids used for worship, or so I have been told, and beyond there was a slope, just as Hugh had said. We slithered down, Kailzie and I, and I nearly dismounted myself in my haste. There was grass at the foot, sweet and fresh despite the lateness of the season, and I thought: was it left or right?
It was right, I was sure it was right, so I pulled Kailzie in that direction and kicked in my heels to cover the ground at a faster rate. We had not travelled more than half a mile when I saw the shell of a building that could only be the chapel although only God knew why anybody would wish to build a chapel in such a forlorn spot.
Somebody told me that this had once been a spital, a hospital, a stopping off spot for travellers traversing the lonely road between the great abbeys of the Scottish Border and the towns of England, and that may well be true. All I saw was a small, stone building with a pointed gable pierced with a round window. I led Kailzie inside this ruined sanctuary and let her graze because God knew she had been hard-worked on short rations the last few days. I was getting rather fond of that brown mare.
I was also getting rather fond of Hugh, moody and unpredictable though he was. I leaned against the cold, moss-furred stone walls of that ancient building, listened to the wind and waited. And waited. Border bred, I did not normally feel the cold but as I stood there a chill seemed to creep over me. It may have emanated from the ground or from the worn stones with whatever history they had, I do not know. I only know that within a short space of time I was shivering, pulling my clothes up to cover me and hoping that Hugh came along soon. I began seeing and hearing things in the dark, imagining that the rustle of bracken in a crack in the wall was an Armstrong coming to get me, or the distant bark of a fox was a horseman nosing in with drawn sword and evil intent. I began to form people out of shadows, such was the state of my imagination, so that a shift of moonlight cast the very image of Wild Will walking toward me, and the glint of a star on a burn became the ripple of light along the blade of a broadsword. I pulled my shawl closer about me and gasped with shock as a voice broke the silence.
'You did well, Jeannie.'
'Hugh?' I peered into the dark, half fearful in case it was an Armstrong or the Redcap demon from Hermitage Castle only a few miles away.
'Hugh it is.' He stepped into a circle of moonlight, looking taller than I remembered from only an hour or two again.
'The Armstrongs?'
'They won't be bothering us,' he assured me. 'I have a gift for you out here.'
I followed him outside the walls of the chapel, part expecting to see the head of a dead Armstrong or some such thing. As children Robert and I had scared each other with such tales. When faced with the reality there was no pleasure; only the fear was real.
'Here,' Hugh lifted a spare saddle from the back of his horse. 'One each. The previous owners have no further use for them.'
I did not ask further. I only held the saddle closely. 'You have no idea how much a certain part of me is grateful for this gift.'
Hugh leaned closer. 'I understand,' he said. 'Certain parts of me are equally grateful.' His smile was mischievous. I did not mention the smear of blood across his face. I knew that it was not his.
'You are a good man,' I said, and he turned away. I cursed myself for my wayward tongue.
'We had better keep moving,' Hugh said, 'I'd like as much distance as possible between us and the Black Yett.'
Having a saddle under me was infinitely more comfortable than riding without, so riding was much less of a hardship than it had been. The ground was also easier, springy turf and soft heather with less need to watch for peat-holes, bogland and sudden patches of dense forest. I
The Black Yett was ill marked by two large stones like the ones the ancient Druids used for worship, or so I have been told, and beyond there was a slope, just as Hugh had said. We slithered down, Kailzie and I, and I nearly dismounted myself in my haste. There was grass at the foot, sweet and fresh despite the lateness of the season, and I thought: was it left or right?
It was right, I was sure it was right, so I pulled Kailzie in that direction and kicked in my heels to cover the ground at a faster rate. We had not travelled more than half a mile when I saw the shell of a building that could only be the chapel although only God knew why anybody would wish to build a chapel in such a forlorn spot.
Somebody told me that this had once been a spital, a hospital, a stopping off spot for travellers traversing the lonely road between the great abbeys of the Scottish Border and the towns of England, and that may well be true. All I saw was a small, stone building with a pointed gable pierced with a round window. I led Kailzie inside this ruined sanctuary and let her graze because God knew she had been hard-worked on short rations the last few days. I was getting rather fond of that brown mare.
I was also getting rather fond of Hugh, moody and unpredictable though he was. I leaned against the cold, moss-furred stone walls of that ancient building, listened to the wind and waited. And waited. Border bred, I did not normally feel the cold but as I stood there a chill seemed to creep over me. It may have emanated from the ground or from the worn stones with whatever history they had, I do not know. I only know that within a short space of time I was shivering, pulling my clothes up to cover me and hoping that Hugh came along soon. I began seeing and hearing things in the dark, imagining that the rustle of bracken in a crack in the wall was an Armstrong coming to get me, or the distant bark of a fox was a horseman nosing in with drawn sword and evil intent. I began to form people out of shadows, such was the state of my imagination, so that a shift of moonlight cast the very image of Wild Will walking toward me, and the glint of a star on a burn became the ripple of light along the blade of a broadsword. I pulled my shawl closer about me and gasped with shock as a voice broke the silence.
'You did well, Jeannie.'
'Hugh?' I peered into the dark, half fearful in case it was an Armstrong or the Redcap demon from Hermitage Castle only a few miles away.
'Hugh it is.' He stepped into a circle of moonlight, looking taller than I remembered from only an hour or two again.
'The Armstrongs?'
'They won't be bothering us,' he assured me. 'I have a gift for you out here.'
I followed him outside the walls of the chapel, part expecting to see the head of a dead Armstrong or some such thing. As children Robert and I had scared each other with such tales. When faced with the reality there was no pleasure; only the fear was real.
'Here,' Hugh lifted a spare saddle from the back of his horse. 'One each. The previous owners have no further use for them.'
I did not ask further. I only held the saddle closely. 'You have no idea how much a certain part of me is grateful for this gift.'
Hugh leaned closer. 'I understand,' he said. 'Certain parts of me are equally grateful.' His smile was mischievous. I did not mention the smear of blood across his face. I knew that it was not his.
'You are a good man,' I said, and he turned away. I cursed myself for my wayward tongue.
'We had better keep moving,' Hugh said, 'I'd like as much distance as possible between us and the Black Yett.'
Having a saddle under me was infinitely more comfortable than riding without, so riding was much less of a hardship than it had been. The ground was also easier, springy turf and soft heather with less need to watch for peat-holes, bogland and sudden patches of dense forest. I
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