The Betrayal of Maggie Blair - By Elizabeth Laird Page 0,107

to hurry on, but often had to wait for Tam, who was still too weak to walk fast or go far in a day. It was already after the middle of July. The road, which must have been churned to a bog of mud in the winter, was thick with dust. It blew uncomfortably into our eyes in the east wind. There were many travelers going in both directions, mostly peaceful folk on foot, like ourselves, but an occasional troop of soldiers clattered by on horses. The first time I saw red coats, I dived down into the ditch at the side of the road, expecting Tam to do the same, but to my surprise he stood boldly in full view to let them past and even waved his bonnet.

"Weren't you scared?" I panted, scrambling back up the bank to join him.

He shook his head, unconcerned, and I was shocked to see how crumpled he looked, how worn and bent, with his old sharpness and springlike quickness gone.

He took my arm to lean on as we walked on.

"You think of them as enemies, Maidie, but every one's a mother's son. Think of that. Every one of them. A mother's son."

I was so irritated by his tolerance that I dropped his arm and hurried on ahead, and it was at the top of the next rise that I caught my first glimpse of Dunnottar Castle.

I had never seen, or could ever have imagined, a place so wild and cruel and desolate. I know that it was God's hand that had, in the days of creation, thrown up the mountains and poured forth the sea, but surely it must have been the Prince of Evil who had vomited up this vast black rock and cast it away from the land. It reared up out of the creaming waves with only one narrow spit connecting it to the land. And it must have been the sons of Satan who had chosen this place on which to build their castle, piling massive walls of stone above the edges of the rock, and making the only entrance at the bottom so steep and narrow that no one would dare to approach it. Even the screams of the gulls and kittiwakes circling around the dank black ledges were more mournful than any birds I had ever heard before.

Perhaps they're the souls of the damned, I thought with a shiver, or of poor prisoners who've died here.

Tam had caught up to me by now. He looked at the castle, then sat down heavily at the side of the road. He looked pale.

"Are you all right?" I said, worried by how ill he looked. "Is it the sight of the place? It scares me, Tam."

"Scares you, aye. It puts the fear of death into me."

"What do we do now?"

"We sit here for a moment so that I can get my breath back. I'm tired to my bones."

I felt guilty.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hurried on. I shouldn't have made you come at all. You ought to be resting still."

He patted my knee.

"Time enough to rest in the grave, darling. I'd rather be out in the open, anyway, breathing the good air, than stifling to death in poor old Virtue's dungeon."

I was still feeling bad and defeated as well.

"I've made you hurry here and worn you out. And all for nothing. Look at this place. However could I get my uncle out of there, assuming he's still alive even? It's useless, Tam. We might as well go back to Edinburgh."

His lashless old eyes, red and sore from the dusty road, opened with astonishment.

"Go back? After we've traveled right across Scotland? Before we've even tried to find him? What are you thinking of, darling? When did Tam ever let you down? When did he ever fail to find a way?"

"It's true, you've been wonderful, but—"

"Did I or did I not get you out of the tolbooth in Rothesay under the nose of Donnie Brown?"

"You did, but—"

"Who got you in through the city gates of Edinburgh without a pass?"

"I know. It was you. But—"

"Who whipped you out from under your granny's nose that time when you broke her jug and she was going to beat you black and blue? Who hid you, till she'd calmed down, eh?"

I had to laugh. "I thought she was going to murder me."

"Not as much as I'll murder you if there's any more talk of giving up and going back to Edinburgh. Here, help me with