I’m a Graham, he thought desperately, we’re tough and stubborn folk... Oh God, oh God, oh God...

‘Wh-what do ye want to know, sir?’

‘Tell me what you did after you saw the horse Janet Dodd bought.’

‘W-well, sir, I knew it was Caspar right away, though somebody had put a few extra white patches on him so he looked piebald, but ye could niver mistake the face of the animal, it were so noble and his legs and his... Anyway, I was in a state, so I did the first thing I thought of which was to ride to Netherby tower to tell... er... to tell Ekie.’

‘Why not go directly to Jock?’

‘I wasn’t sure I should do it, sir, I knew what might happen, I wanted to talk to Ekie first, but Ekie said I should tell him since Sweetmilk was riding Caspar when he disappeared. He was allus the favourite, you know, sir, best dressed, best mounted.’

‘Was Young Jock or any of the others jealous of him?’

‘Well they might have been, sir, but Sweetmilk is... was so sweet-natured, ye couldna help liking him even if he did talk too much. So I talked to Jock of the Peartree and he thanked me and said he’d remember me if we ever met in a fight and I went back to Carlisle but the gate was shut. I was sleeping outside in a bush, but then the bell rang and ye all went riding out on the hot trod so I slipped in behind ye and went to Madam Hetherington’s.’

Bangtail tried to spread his hands to show he’d finished but the manacles stopped him.

‘Well?’ said Carey, swallowing, drinking and dabbing his moustache and beard with a napkin like the pansified southerner he was.

‘Well, sir?’

‘Shall I fetch the Boot?’ asked Dodd.

Carey sighed. ‘I hate to cripple a strong well-made pair of legs like his, but...’

‘Wh-what else do you want, sir, please, I...’

‘What’s going on at Netherby?’

‘S-sir?’

‘Who’s there, why do they want horses?’

Bangtail gulped and tried to think. Carey watched him patiently, his usually humorous face unreadable.

Dodd growled. ‘You’re with us, or agin us, Bangtail.’

What would Ekie do to him? Was it even a secret who was at Netherby? Anyway, what could the bastard Courtier do about it?

‘Th-the Earl of Bothwell.’

There was a flicker of something on Carey’s face. Dodd made an mmphmm noise in his throat.

‘Who else?’ demanded Carey.

‘Och, his own followers of course, like Jock Hepburn and Geordie Irwin of Bonshaw, and there’s Johnstone and Old Wat of Harden and a fair few broken men from Liddesdale and the Debateable Land like Skinabake Armstrong and his lot.’

‘And what does he want all these men and horses for?’ enquired Carey softly from behind his fingers.

Bangtail’s face twisted in despair. ‘I dinna ken, Deputy, I wish to God I did and that’s the truth, but nobody knows except the Earl himself and his man Hepburn and Old Wat, and not me that’s certain and I’d tell ye if I knew it, I swear to God I would, but I dinna and if ye put me in the Boot I’ll know no more... Oh God.’

He put his face in his hands and tried not to cry. ‘Ekie said none of them know, but he could be lying...’

‘If you’re lying to me, Bangtail...’ said Carey menacingly.

‘Och no, sir, I’m not lying, I got no reason to, I’m not in the rode, see ye, and it’s no gain to me whatever they do, though I heard tell that Captain Musgrave’s helping out with a few remounts for Young Jock and Long Nebbed Robert, on a share, ye know, but that’s all I know and I tellt ye the truth, as God’s my judge...’

‘All right,’ said Carey, ‘no need to take the Lord’s name in vain any more.’

‘It’s not in vain, sir,’ said Bangtail, shocked, ‘I dinna swear sir, not falsely, my word’s as good as any other man’s in the March.’

‘I thought there was a complete dispensation for that on swearing to the Warden or his men.’

Bangtail blinked. ‘Eh?’

‘He means,’ translated Dodd, ‘that he knows fine ye’ll swear your oath till you’re blue in the face to the Warden but it doesna count in men’s minds if ye go and break it the next day. Not the way it would if ye swore to Jock of the Peartree or some other man that was your equal.’

‘Well, it’s not false, I swear by God and the Holy Bible, I told you all I know and that’s that,’ said Bangtail sullenly. ‘If ye dinna believe me, then ye can fetch in the Boot and go to hell.’

Surprisingly Carey smiled. ‘Well said, Bangtail.’ He nodded to Dodd, who grabbed Bangtail’s arm and led him to the door.

‘Will ye let me go?’ he asked hopefully.

‘Not yet, Bangtail,’ said Carey, the bastard Courtier, while his bastard servant finished what was left of his bread and sausage and the ale, God damn him. ‘When I’ve checked your story. Not that I don’t believe you, but you could be mistaken, and you don’t know the most important thing. Perhaps you could find out for me?’

‘In jail?’

‘Where else? I can hardly lodge Young Jock and Ekie in the town, they’d be out of the place in an hour.’

‘I doubt they know, sir,’ said Bangtail. ‘And they willna tell me if they see me come back... er...’

‘Untouched, as it were,’ said Carey. ‘We can arrange that.’

‘Well no, sir, I didna mean...’

‘No hard feelings, Bangtail,’ said Sergeant Dodd as he pushed Bangtail down the stairs and punched him on the face, ‘I wouldna want you under suspicion from Ekie.’

THURSDAY, 22ND JUNE, 10 A.M.

Thomas the Merchant had been seriously considering a quiet trip to his newly bought manor in Cumberland, but he knew a man in a hurry when he saw one and so he let the finely ruffed green-suited gentleman and his servant come sweeping into his study and called his own servant to fetch wine.

‘How may I serve you, sir?’ he asked.

The gentleman smiled. ‘Do you know me, Mr Hetherington?’

‘I have not had the pleasure...’

‘I am the new Deputy Warden.’