‘Mr Cooke, Ah can tell ye, he’ll wantae hear what I have to say, but I’ll say it to him only.’
Barnabus looked shrewdly at the boy’s anxious face and could see no more dishonesty than usual in the long-lashed blue eyes.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Come up to the Queen Mary Tower with me and you can...’
‘Nay, I’ll not go there. Ask him if he’ll please come down here so I’m not seen wi’ him.’
Barnabus gave Hutchin a very hard stare and then shrugged.
‘I’ll pass it on, my son, but I doubt he’ll...’
Young Hutchin bit his lip and then whispered, ‘It’s concernin’ Lady Widdrington.’
‘Hm,’ said Barnabus. ‘I’ll tell him.’
In fact he let Carey eat what he wanted of the food he’d brought before he mentioned Young Hutchin’s anxiety. Carey was preoccupied and it took Lady Widdrington’s name to get him to leave his careful list-making and go down the stairs and across the yard to the buttery beside the keep, Barnabus following behind him out of plain nosiness.
Once in privacy by the huge casks of beer and the ample sweet smell of the malt, Young Hutchin gabbled out his tale.
Young Hutchin had seen Mick the Crow Salkeld at dawn in the Castle stables, taking one of the hobbies and asking about the best route to Netherby that avoided the road. When somebody wanted to know why he was sneaking into the Debateable Land, he had tapped his nose and said something about Lady Widdrington.
‘What did he say?’ demanded Carey.
‘Ah dinna like to repeat it, sir, it were... rude,’ answered Hutchin primly. ‘It were along the lines o’ my uncle... er... takin’ your place, so to speak.’
Carey breathed deeply through his nose for a moment and then nodded. ‘Go on.’
Young Hutchin had been greatly taken with Lady Widdrington, so he had decided to go to Netherby himself and see what was up.
‘Ah dinna trust Uncle Wattie, see,’ explained his treacherous nephew. ‘It’s costing him a fortune to mend Netherby an’ there isnae a man he’s met since it happened that isnae jestin’ ower the way ye pulled the wool over his eyes and got the better of him.’
Carey’s eyes had narrowed down to slits.
‘You didn’t run all the way there and back again? It’s ten miles.’
Young Hutchin coloured. ‘Nay sir. Ah ran a couple of miles to the further horse paddock and... er... borrowed a hobby and a remount. I brung ’em back too,’ he added with proud rectitude.
Carey nodded.
‘So, anyway, sir, I got to Netherby an’ it were full up wi’ me cousins and the like, and Skinabake Armstrong and his gang. Ah couldnae get close enough to hear what Mick the Crow’s message was, but half an hour after he arrived he was back on the road south again and the place was boiling out like an overturned beeskep.’
‘Which way did they go?’
‘South east. Across the Bewcastle Waste, sir.’
‘How many?’
Young Hutchin squinted at the roofbeams and thought hard. ‘By my guess he’d have fifty men or thereabouts, fra the look of them.’
‘Armed?’
‘Oh aye, sir. Well armed.’
‘Who was leading them?’
‘My Uncle Wattie, sir, nae mistaking it. Only, Ah wouldnae tell ye if it were nobbut a raid, but my thinking is that Mick’s tellt Wattie which way my Lady Widdrington’s gone an’ he’s intending to lift her and ransome her to ye. He’ll have heard by now how she helped ye.’
Carey said nothing for a moment and looked as if he was thinking furiously, which surprised Barnabus who had expected immediate fireworks. He was thinking regretfully about all the hard cleaning work he had put in on Carey’s fighting harness which would now no doubt be wasted.
‘Barnabus,’ said Carey eventually. ‘I know you’re there, skulking in the corner. Go and find Long George and Bessie’s Andrew and tell them to come to my chambers in an hour. Young Hutchin, thank you for telling me this. I’m indebted to you. Only I’d like to know why you did it.’
Young Hutchin went pink about the ears.
‘It wasnae for ye, sir,’ he said gruffly. ‘Only, I like the Lady, see.’
Carey looked shrewdly at Young Hutchin for a moment, causing further reddening around the ears, and then smiled.
‘All the better,’ he said. ‘That’s a perfectly honourable reason.’
Barnabus came hurrying back to the Queen Mary Tower from his errand and was surprised to see Carey still wearing his ordinary clothes. He would have expected the Deputy to be in helmet and harness and chafing to ride to rescue his beloved, knowing the man. Carey grinned at his obvious shock.
‘Barnabus, think,’ he said. ‘I’ve got no men around here; they’re all at the haymaking and even if they weren’t, seven certainly is not enough to match fifty riders. And we don’t know for sure what’s going on.’
‘But if Wattie Graham’s after Lady Widdrington, shouldn’t we get after ’im, sir...?’
‘You’re a bit rash, Barnabus.’ Barnabus blinked at this outrageous instance of a kettle calling a brass warming-pan black. ‘I said, think. Nothing’s going to happen to her today because unless she’s been extraordinarily unlucky, she’ll be into Thirlwall Castle by now.’
‘Ain’t you going to send a message? Or talk to the Warden?’
