The Rogues (14 page)

There was a loud whoosh as the torches landed and began gobbling up anything around them.

“Ishbel!” I cried, suddenly remembering she was inside.

She rushed out with a scream, a bundle under her arm. The fire had caught her skirt as she escaped, and I dived forward, beating out the flame with the palms of my hands.

As soon as she saw Da lying on the ground, Ishbel dropped her bundle and threw herself down beside him. “Murdo!” she cried. “What's happened to ye?”

Rood's scarred man had climbed unsteadily to his feet and was staggering away back up the hill. From the look on his face, he had no more fondness for the factor now than we did.

“Rood rode him down with his horse,” said Lachlan, glowering at Rood with clenched fists.

“And it will go even worse with the rest of you if you don't shift yourselves off the laird's property,” Rood said with a sneer. He turned to his men. “Fire the outbuildings too. We'll leave no shelter.”

“Can we no gather our animals?” asked Lachlan, his voice suddenly breaking as if he had just realized what was happening.

“They will just slow you down,” said Rood. His voice sounded as if he meant this as a helpful comment, but his mouth spoiled that with a smirk. “Trust me, you want to be on your way quickly.”

The other scarred man was already leading Rob Roy away.

“Not our horse,” I cried.

Rood smirked even more. “Yon beast'll settle yer last month's rent, for all he's only ribs and skin.”

I turned and gazed in horror at the fire consuming the inside of the house. The thatch of the roof suddenly ignited, crackling and cackling as if it was enjoying itself. I peered through the open door and could see the wooden beams feeding the hungry flames. It was only a small cottage, cramped, not elegant as Bonnie Josie's house. But it was all we had.

Ishbel picked up her bundle under one arm and with the other helped Da to his feet. He looked dazed and lost, and when he tried to walk, his left leg started to give way under him. Ishbel gave him her shoulder for support, and they started to trudge westward, along the path that the Kinnells had so recently taken.

“Come along, boys,” she said. “There's nothing left for us here.”

“That's sense,” said Rood, “and from a woman too. Ye young villains had best heed her.”

My whole body trembled with rage.
What more could happen to me
, I thought,
if I leapt up and dragged Rood off his horse, my fingers closing on his throat
? But I knew better. It would be mad to start a fight now with Da in such a state and all those huge men itching for a fight.

Picking up the few belongings that lay scattered on the ground, Lachlan and I followed Ishbel and Da. I knew we must have looked as broken and fearful as the Kinnells. Still, I couldn't help glancing back and saying a last word to Rood over my shoulder.

“There's more to justice than what's written on yer papers,” I said. “A crime is a crime, even if the law says nae.”

“I'll bear that in mind when we are banqueting upon your cows and chickens tonight.” Rood laughed. “Though I doubt they'll make much of a feast.”

I turned away from him, screwing up my eyes against the tears.
It's just the smoke
, I told myself.
Just the smoke
. But a lie, even to oneself, even for pride's sake, is still a lie.

III. ROGUE'S APPRENTICE

Give to me the life I love
,

Let the lave go by me
,

Give the jolly heaven above

And the byway nigh me
.

Bed in the bush with stars to see
,

Bread I dip in the river
—

There's the life for a man like me
;

There's the life for ever
.

—Robert Louis Stevenson, “The Vagabond”

14 HILLS

With the smoke from a dozen burning farms and steadings making dark clouds foul enough to hide the sun, turning day into dusk, we trudged westward. It was hard going, over steep hills, through tangled gorse, seeking the quickest route away from Rood and his henchmen. I had no doubt he might take it into his head to chase after us, just for sheer wickedness.

To run from danger is one thing, even natural. But it's a terrible thing to have to flee from your own home, the place that's always meant warmth and safety. For the first time I understood the minister's stories of the prodigal son and the lost sheep. It's awful to have no home to go to.

So where
could
we go? The question hung over us like a black cloud heavy with the threat of thunder.

“Just a wee bit farther,” Da said to encourage us each time we hesitated.

To anyone watching, we must have looked like a pack of beggars, stooped and weary, with nothing to our name but what we carried on our backs. Ishbel had only managed to pack up some clothes, a jar of porridge oats, some water skins, bread and cheese, and a bit of bedding. The only thing we had to be thankful for was that there was no wind or rain to add to our misery.

After many hours—going slowly down the sloping path because of Da's injured leg—we took shelter among some rocks at the foot of a craggy hill. Da was still shaken from the blow Rood had given him, and his ribs ached whenever he was breathing hard. Ishbel supported him part of the way, when he lowered his pride enough to lean on her shoulder.

I was puffing and huffing like a lad unused to walking, though only days earlier I could have run down this path without stopping. And Lachlan, who was always up for a lark, was unusually somber and grey as the day.

Were we off Kindarry land yet? We hardly knew. So tired and defeated, we scarcely cared. My feet felt as if we'd walked the breadth of Scotland already just putting ourselves past danger.

Now Da slumped against a mossy rock. It had an overhang, which was just as well, as a wind had started wuthering through the trees. It was way past midday, the birds were quiet, but it was too soon for hares and deer to be out in force. It was as if the whole countryside had stopped still.

Da winced at the pain in his side while reaching gratefully for some food. Ishbel took out some of the bread and cheese from her bundle and tore it into pieces with her bare hands—for none of us had a knife—and then she shared it around. There was not a lot to eat. For drink, we got water with our cupped hands at a nearby burn.

“This bread and cheese won't last beyond tomorrow,” Ishbel said apologetically as we swallowed the last of our meager meal.

“There'll be places where we can work for food,” said Da, his voice recovered a bit now that we were stopped and fed. “And maybe we can snare a rabbit or two along the way.” By
we
, he must have meant Lachlan and me, for he was surely not in any shape to make a snare or capture a rabbit.

“Along the way to where?” Lachlan asked, his face a dark scowl.

Da and Ishbel looked at each other, as if wondering who should answer, if either of them actually had an answer.

“To our new home,” Ishbel replied at last. She forced a smile, but there was no happiness in it.

I knew that was no answer at all. We had no new home anywhere, nor the money for one. We had no food, no clothes but those on our backs, no …

We started on the path again, avoiding the worst of the stones. Lachlan and I went a bit ahead because Da was so slow. We were barely talking at this point, just intent on getting as far from our old home as possible. But after a while, when we looked back, we realized that Da and Ishbel were no longer in sight.

Turning as one, we raced back to find them around the second bend, sheltering under an overhanging tree.

Da was slumped against a rocky cliff face and drinking from a water skin. Ishbel was pressed close to him for warmth.

We sat down with them and tried to pretend that nothing was different, though
everything
was different. We'd lost our house, Da was weak, and Lachlan and I had to be men now.

“Are we going to a city, then?” Lachlan asked, as if we'd been discussing this all along.

Ishbel nodded.

“To Glasgow?” I tried to say the name softly, but still it felt harsh in my mouth.

“Aye,” said Ishbel, putting enthusiasm in her voice. “Glasgow will be fine for us. Work in the factories with regular pay, nae scraping a living off a thankless patch of land.”

Da turned and glared at her. “Was that life so bad there?” he challenged. “I never heard you complain of it before!”

“What would have been the point?” Her voice was soft. “There was naught else but make do. But now that we have nothing, we must think again, find a way to make a new life, a better one.”

“There's nothing better about being locked up in a factory all day working for another man's profit,” said Lachlan, his lips thinned down with anger.

“By the time ye find a roof and a bed, ye'll be glad of whatever ye have to do to earn it,” Ishbel told him sharply.

“Is that all ye want for these laddies?” Da objected. “That they should slave and toil inside a factory all their days, too tired even to lift their eyes to what's left of the sun as they crawl home to sleep? I'd rather we died right here under the open sky.”

Ishbel folded her arms crossly. “Have you something better in mind, then?”

For a moment, Da was silent, grinding his teeth, though whether against the pain or Ishbel's words, I couldn't say. All this talk was like a knife severing us, one from the other.

Suddenly there was a sound from up the path a ways, and Lachlan and I stood up, to take positions in front of Da, in case Rood and his men were tracking us. But seconds later, a little rabbit hopped down the path. We broke into laughter, and the startled rabbit raced over the far side of the cliff.

I let out a breath and looked around. This was as good a place for our night's sleep as any. The road wound down the glen, but under the overhang we could keep out of the worst of the wind. And if it should rain, the tree and its heavy roots would shelter us from that as well.

I was about to suggest this when Da ran a hand over his beard. He often did this when thinking. At last he said, “We'll take a ship to America.”

“To America? For what?” Ishbel's face was grey as the rock behind Da's back.

“To find land again, land that's all our own this time, not rented from some grasping laird.” Da smiled grimly.

Ishbel laughed and tossed her head like a young girl. “They're no giving land away for free, no even in America. Nor do they give away passage there for the asking.”

I looked at Lachlan, and he stared at the ground.

“Lachlan,” I whispered, “what do you want to do?”

He shrugged. That was so unlike him, I felt defeat for the first time, like a weight upon my back.

Da pulled out a small leather purse and shook it, jingling the coins inside. “I've been saving what money I could,” he said, “and I've kept it by me always.” It didn't sound like much was there.

“Will it be enough?” Ishbel asked. Her voice was skeptical, but she'd softened. I think the hope in Da's eyes carried her along.

“Martin Murty's cousin Neil left for America four years past,” said Da, trying his best to sound confident. “He's written Martin to say there's land aplenty, and none of it dear.”

“Nae, Murdo, but we'll need food and furnishings, animals and seed,” Ishbel said. “Even without paying for the land, there'll be a drain on that poor purse.”

“We'll need tickets for the boat trip too,” Lachlan added, his voice low.

“We'll make do,” Da insisted, “somehow.”

Ishbel's shoulders slumped. “I suppose we'll have to trust in God to provide.”

“He's no been generous so far,” said Lachlan, a bit of spark back in his voice.

Da clipped him lightly across the ear with the back of his hand. “Blasphemy's no way to win His favor, boy.”

“There's something yer all forgetting!” I burst out, unable to keep silent any longer. Since I was standing, I had no shelter, and the wind had started up again. I pulled my shirt closer around me, and Ishbel held out one of the blankets she'd managed to bring out of the burning house. I wrapped it about me, and it smelled of fire and ash.

They all turned to face me. Ishbel crossed her arms and frowned. “And what notion do ye have that's beyond our poor wits?”

“There's the Blessing!” They stared over at me in the fading light. “The Blessing,” I said again into their doubt. “It would give us all the help we'd need.”

From the looks Da and Ishbel gave me, you'd have thought I'd just let out a curse in church.

“Ye coof!” Lachlan gave a high laugh.

Da stood tall, ignoring any pain, and shook his head at me. “I've told ye before to leave off that nonsense, lad!”

Taking a deep breath, Ishbel uncrossed her arms and tried to speak more kindly. “Look, I know it was a pretty story yer ma told the two of ye, Roddy, and it was just the thing to cheer ye as ye were lying abed at the end of a cold day. But that was when ye were wee bairns, and that's all done now. It's haverings, nonsense.” She put a hand out to touch my arm. I drew back. “We need to take a hard look at the road ahead, like grown-up folk, and not flinch from it.”

In spite of their doubt, I was certain it was me that was talking sense. Couldn't they see that? “But the Blessing …,” I began.

The wind chose that moment to whuffle around the rock again, making a ghostly sound, almost as if taunting me.

“Enough!” Da barked at me. Then he fell back against the embankment with a single moan, clutching his ribs.

“Ye see how it is with yer da,” Ishbel said. “And ye want him to go back up the glen after a bit of nonsense? And what do ye think Willie Rood might do to us if we dared return?”

I fell silent, racked with sudden guilt. The wind, however, kept howling. I gave Da the blanket, wrapping it tenderly around him, and he said nothing to thank me for it, but he didn't take it off either.