you will. Take me, Barnabas Sackett.'
'Take you?' I repeated the words stupidly, appalled at the thought of traveling so far across the country with this large woman, not fat mind you, but broad in the shoulder and beam, and strong. 'What of the house? Did not Captain Tempany leave you in charge?'
'That he did, and a lonely life it is, so I sent for my brother, and he has come along. He will stay whilst I am gone.'
'A brother?' Somehow I had never grasped the idea that there might be another such. One I could accept, but two?
'Aye.' He came in from the hall then, a man as big as two of me and with hands like hams. 'I'll guard well the house, Sackett, as well as if it were my own, and you be takin' the lass here. She'll be happier in America with her mistress, for she's done nothing but worry since they left.'
'You don't understand,' I said patiently. 'We go where there are savages. To a wild land. I do not know how I am even to get there myself, let alone take a woman with me.'
'Wherever a man can go, I can go,' Lila said calmly. 'And whatever the hardships, I'll put up with them. My folk were fisherfolk and well I know the way of boats and sails. I can do as much as any man ... as any two men.'
'As for the savages,' her brother said, 'if they molest my sister, God have mercy on them, for she will not!'
No protest I could utter stirred her resolution one whit. She would go with me, and not only that but she had already packed and had our horses saddled.
Still arguing, I got to my feet, belted on the sword, and took what she had handed me. I donned the cloak.
'It may be months before I see Abigail. We must somehow cross the sea,' I said, 'and sail along a dangerous, unknown coast. And if we find her we shall be very lucky indeed.'
'We will find her, worry none of that,' Lila said.
'There will be storms and danger. There will be bloody fighting. And the law is upon my path, Lila.'
'I shall be no burden,' she replied calmly. 'And I can cook better than the sort of victuals you'll be after having.'
'Come then, Lila, and if you cannot ride all night, do you stay behind.'
'I'll ride the nights and days through,' she said firmly.
And so she did.
Chapter 8
North and westward we fled through the wind and the rain, driving along lonely lanes, plunging through the darkened streets of villages, our black cloaks billowing out behind like wings of great bats, the hooves of our horses striking fire from the cobbles.
Out of the night and into a village, then on again. At dawn we rested our horses in a grove beside the way, and sitting under a tree, ate a bit of the food Lila had put up, and it was good food, tasty and lasting. Meanwhile the horses grazed.
'Be they hunting you then?' she asked, looking at me from under her thick brows, 'like Peter Tallis said?'
'They think the coins I sold were part of King John's treasure, lost in the Wash. It did no good to tell them nay.'
'We go to Bristol?'
'I did think of it. But now ... no. I am for Ireland now, to one of the fishing towns.'
She was silent for several minutes, and then said, 'Do you know Anglesey?'
'I do know of it.'
'I am from there.'
I was astonished, for I had no idea her home was anywhere but London, and said as much.
'My father was a friend to Captain Tempany, and worked for him. Before my father died he found me a place with him. You wish to go to Anglesey?'
'I do, and to Ireland from there, and from Ireland to America.'
'It is an old old way,' Lila said, 'but traveled often of an olden time.'
A mist lay upon the grass and wove itself in cobwebby tendrils among the dark trees. The dawn was touching the mist with pink, but very lightly yet, as the hour was very early.
'I spoke hastily when I said I knew Anglesey,' I explained, 'I have not been there, but my father was, and he told me much of it ... an island of bards and witches, where the Druids were a time long since.'
She gave me a straight and level glance from under her dark brows. 'And live yet, if you know to find them.'
'Druids?'
'Aye ... and the bards, too.'
She was a strange woman, this Lila. Looking at her brooding face, I was minded to think of the story of Boudicia, of huge frame, the fiery Celtic princess who with flaming red hair and spear led the Iceni against the Romans, the Iceni, some of whom it was said had been among my ancestors. But who could tell? That was long ago.
We rested there, while the dawn painted the clouds with a deft brush. The warmth felt good to my muscles, and at last I got to my feet. 'It is time, Lila. We have far to go.'
She mounted with ease, and we rode on, again keeping to the lanes and byways, avoiding the traveled roads.
We walked our horses now and again not wishing to attract attention by seeming pursued. We walked, trotted a bit when the way was easy, now upon the open moor, then under the shade of old beeches.
At dusk of the second day we came up to Cricklade, following the old Roman road, at times a mere path, often a lane, yet running straight as the eye can see. We walked our horses beyond the town to Ashton Keynes where the Thames winds about, a small stream there, of no size at all.
There was an inn, and it looked neat and clean. 'We'll try to sleep inside this night,' I said. 'I shall have a room for you if there be one, and I'll make do below stairs in the common room.'
A room there was. To preclude curiosity, I said, 'The girl is tired, strong though she is, and I'd not have her worn out for meeting the man she is to marry.' Lila looked at me, but said nothing. 'I am her cousin,' I explained, 'and she's betrothed to a lad in Shropshire. A sturdy one, too!'
'Aye.' The innkeeper looked at Lila and shook his head approvingly. 'That he'd better be.'
There was some idle talk, and the innkeeper's wife showed Lila to a room under the eaves, small but tidy, and I rolled up in my cloak by the fire when the guests had gone and it was bedding time. It was a small place, and there was but one other there, a short, stocky man with a pleasant smile and a careful eye. He worried me some, for he asked no questions nor made comment, but listened to all spoken as he smoked by the fire.
When I was rolled in my cloak he said, 'You've good horses there.'
'Aye,' I said, not wishing to talk.
'They've come far,' he said.
'Aye,' I repeated.
'And they'll be goin' farther no doubt. 'Tis in my mind that you should have fresh horses, sturdy ones, too.'
Now I was alert, for this was leading somewhere if only to a horse trade. The man was no fool, and such worried me.
'Mine are strong,' I said. 'They are good for the distance.'
'No doubt,' he said, 'but what if they're in for a run now? How long could they last?'
'As long as need be,' I said, 'and so they must. I've no silver for others.
They'll go the way,' I said, 'and to the green pasture when the run is over, to rest awhile.'
'Aye, but you'll still be needin' others, or I miss my thought.' He leaned over and knocked out his pipe at the hearth's edge. And then, low-voiced, he said, 'You give your friends a de'il of trouble, man.'
'What do you mean?'
'Would the name of Feghany sound true? Or that of a man named Peter?'
