Chapter Twenty-One

The cottage at Liddesdale was remote, abandoned and surrounded by hushed woodland. Jasper had won the disputed land from Clan Strachan. Caolan Bannerman had once faced the Strachans in a power struggle, and he had offered it to Jasper as the price of his support. It had taken a good deal of pride swallowing to take a Bannerman’s side in anything, but Jasper had managed it, for he had long coveted Liddesdale. His hold on the land was tenuous and bitterly resented, and so the chill was not just due to the bite of the night air. It came from the leader of the Strachans.

‘Are you happy to be back in Liddesdale?’ said Jasper, drawing first blood.

Peyton Strachan flinched – a clear sign that his loss still burned. ‘I come onto this land often to hunt, and if you don’t know that, you should employ better spies, Glendenning,’ he replied.

‘It is my land, and you are trespassing.’

‘We both know that is not true,’ sneered Strachan.

‘Come now, we’ve more important matters than bickering over old wounds,’ said Caolan.

‘I heard that you had been visited by the Macaulays,’ said Jasper to Strachan.

‘Oh, so you do have some spies? Fear not, ‘twas no treachery on my part. Not yet, at least. Griffin Macaulay wants me for one of his daughters.’ Strachan smirked, knowing the news of a potential alliance would annoy him.

‘An alliance sealed in marriage. How fortunate for you, Strachan. It might raise you up in this world, for God knows you cannot sink further.’

A smug grin spread over Strachan’s face. ‘I declined, as my inclination lies elsewhere,’ he said.

Not for the first time, Jasper felt that Peyton Strachan knew something he did not.

‘And where does your inclination lie?’ said Caolan. ‘Are you marrying into the Gunns or the Irvines, maybe?’

Strachan spat on the floor. ‘Never. They are traitorous dogs, and that is why I am here, suffering you two.’

‘I heard there was some common lass who had your heart and stamped on it, Strachan,’ said Jasper.

The man gave him a vicious glare. ‘In that, we are alike,’ he replied, and it was Jasper’s turn to flinch.

‘Glendenning has two sisters you could wed,’ said Caolan lightly, moving the talk away from Jasper’s jilting by Brenna, which was not in his interest.

‘I have one unwed sister,’ said Jasper. ‘The other is soon to be married to Alec Carstairs.’

‘Carstairs?’ Strachan narrowed his eyes. ‘Rich, I’ll grant you, but a fool in all the essentials.’

‘What about the other one – Glenna? It would seal this alliance and ensure trust between parties,’ said Caolan, with the glee of a child poking a stick in a wasps’ nest.

Jasper laughed. ‘He can have Glenna if he wants, but I’ll not give him a dowry nor land, and marriage or not, I'll never trust a Strachan.’

‘I don’t want your sister, and there is not enough money in the world to suffer you as a relative,’ growled Strachan. ‘And be assured, Glendenning, I will take what I want, when I want, not wait for it to be given by you.’

‘Enough,’ snarled Caolan. ‘We will not sort our differences by squabbling like children.’

‘You stirred the pot with talk of marriage and sisters, so don’t be surprised when it boils over,’ spat Jasper.

‘Forgive me. I merely wished to lighten the mood.’

‘A fool’s errand, given what I have to report,’ said Strachan. ‘A few days ago, we found some dreadful fruit hanging from a tree just a short ride from Fellscarp. Two farmers, strung up, their hands bound behind their backs, tongues bulging out like gargoyles.’

‘Murdered by the Warden’s men?’ said Jasper.

‘Aye, most likely, but if you had anything to do with it, Glendenning, I will have your head. Let me be clear. I am not here to make pleasantries nor talk of anything other than vengeance.’

‘I have also suffered, said Caolan. ‘A farm burnt out. A family killed. Then, a timber store was set ablaze within my castle walls, but we put it out in time. So, let us get to the business at hand. On the next truce day, we must appear as enemies. There must be no sign that we have come together. Let them think that they still drive us apart.’

‘I am sure we can manage that, for it is hard to think of you as a friend when your men have raided my cattle this last week, Bannerman.’’ said Jasper.

‘They were not my men, I can assure you of that,’ said Caolan.

‘They wore McColl tartan.’

‘Easily obtained. It is a camouflage, and that is a trick you have pulled in the past to stir up trouble, is it not, Jasper?’

He was right, but Jasper had no guilt about it. Survival was all that mattered in the Marches, and men with too much integrity did not last long.

‘If the Macaulays offered a marriage alliance, perhaps they have their backs to the wall just like us,’ said Caolan. ‘We should reach out and see where their loyalties lie.’

‘I am not eager to get in bed with the Macaulays,’ said Strachan.

‘I’m sure you’ve got into bed with worse,’ said Jasper.

Caolan rolled his eyes. ‘So we are agreed. We reach out. Strachan can string the Macaulays along with the temptation of his hand in marriage. Perhaps the Warden has his boot on their throat, so they seek an alliance. Jasper, you can make a match for your sister with the Irvines or the Beatties.’

‘She can’t marry them both,’ he growled.

‘She won’t have to. Just sound them out. Now, let us go. Take care to ensure you have not been followed.’

Jasper watched Peyton Strachan until he was swallowed by the woods. Sooner or later, their enmity would swell into violence. They would forever be at odds over Liddesdale and the rivalry would only end when one of them was dead.

Unease settled on Jasper like a shroud as he turned his horse to the cold comfort of Kransmuir, and his lovely, passionate, lying bitch of a wife.