The Hammer of the Scots (46 page)

‘It is of the utmost importance that we keep our secrets,’ William told them. ‘Depend upon it they will double their guards after this. And they will come looking for us and in particular myself. Remember though: this is a glorious beginning. We have seen that God is on our side. Let us thank Him now for this victory, and when we have done that we will take our booty to a safe place and I’ll swear to you that after this, loyal Scotsmen will come flocking to our banner.’

They hid in woods during the day and travelled by night, and William decided that the forest was the best place for their headquarters. Now and then some of them went into the town to listen to the talk, and they came back to report that everywhere the raid on the convoy was discussed and Wallace’s name was on every lip.

‘There is a glint in the eyes of Scotsmen when your name is mentioned,’ William was told.

‘That is good, but we must beware of traitors. We can be sure the English will set their spies everywhere.’

‘Lord Percy is furious,’ was the report. ‘He has reprimanded the guards at Ayr prison for throwing what they thought was your dead body over the wall. He calls them idiots because first, they did not ascertain who you were and secondly, did not satisfy themselves that you were dead.’

William was delighted; his head buzzed with plans.

‘A beginning,’ he cried. ‘We are on the road.’

During the next few weeks they made forays into the town; they attacked bands of Englishmen and took what they could from them. They were beginning to collect a store of ammunition. They had ‘won’ as they called it many fine horses. They had arms of all descriptions. Nor did they need to go hungry.

William did not wish them to stay in one place too long as he considered that dangerous and they moved around constantly, and he trusted his men – in particular Stephen and Karlé who became his closest friends and associates. That was not all. His uncles – and other members of his numerous family who were too old to join him – sent him money and goods for his cause. He was by no means merely the outlaw who could make himself a nuisance to the intruders; he was a name to be reckoned with.

‘It may not be long,’ he told his men, ‘before we go into real battle.’

Moving from forest to forest they came near to Ayr and he immediately thought of Ellen and his desire for her was so strong that he found it difficult to resist. There was no reason why he should not disguise himself and slip into the cottage, after dark. He could leave again before dawn.

He would go. He could not stop thinking of Ellen and until they had been together he would go on doing so. He persuaded himself that it would be folly to allow himself to be obsessed by her. The best thing was to see her and get the longing out of his system.

He must disguise himself and the idea came to him that he would go as a priest. No one would molest a priest and it was the last calling which would be connected with William Wallace. The idea amused him and he decided to put it into practice.

It turned out to be an unfortunate choice. For as he approached the house he was seen by one of Ellen’s admirers. This man was coming to visit Ellen, but when he saw a priest going to the house he hung back and waited, not wanting to come face to face with the holy man who, he suspected, might have been going to remonstrate with Ellen on her way of life.

The priest knocked at the door. He was let in. Ellen would surely not keep him long. He would wait until the man came out.

Meanwhile Wallace was received with surprise by Ellen. Then he threw off his habit and she was in his arms and they were laughing at the efficaciousness of his disguise.

‘And you came as a priest!’ It seemed a great joke to them. ‘And such a one that I believed you to be of the Church.’

He told her that his longing to be with her had been so great that he had had to take the risk of coming to her.

She said she had hoped he would some day and whenever he came there would always be a welcome for him.

They went up to the attic where she and her mother had sheltered him all those weeks and they lay together on the truckle bed as they had in the old days.

He told her afterwards that he with his men were in the nearby forest and that they planned to be there for some days.

‘So,’ she said, ‘it may well be that I shall have another visit from you, sir.’

‘That could well be,’ he replied.

‘Perhaps tomorrow night?’

‘Why should it not be?’

‘I shall look for you.’

‘Are you still my true friend, Ellen?’ he asked.

‘Until we die,’ she answered.

So they made love again and again, but he was wary for the first streak of light was in the sky. He did not want to be seen in or near the town of Ayr by daylight for, good though his disguise might be, there was a price on his head.

Meanwhile the man from the town waited outside Ellen’s house for the priest to emerge. He wondered why he did not. A priest … to spend the night in the house of a light woman! It was unbelievable!

He had an impulse to knock at the door to discover what was happening but he decided not to. He would wait there until the priest came out and then he would follow him.

He was watching when the door opened and the priest came out. Ellen was with him – beautiful Ellen – with her hair streaming about her shoulders and a loose robe scarcely covering her nakedness. She and the priest embraced in a manner which left no doubt as to their relationship and then the priest lifted his long robes and ran.

He followed him to the edge of the forest. He saw him throw off the robe. There was something familiar about the man who emerged.

Could it be … Wallace!

What should he do? There was a price on Wallace’s head. What riches, what glory for the man who delivered him into the hands of his enemies!

The night had not turned out as he had fancied it would. He had missed the charms of sweet Ellen. But who knew, perhaps there was a better way in which it could have been spent and this was it.

Ellen opened the door. Two guards stepped into the house.

‘What do you want?’ she asked.

‘We want you, Mistress.’

‘What, now?’ she demanded, thinking they had come to take her by force. That, she would fight against with all her might. She liked men; she enjoyed her pleasures with them; but they should never be taken by force if she could help it.

But she was mistaken. They were on another mission.

She was to go with them, they told her, because their masters had something to say to her.

She was taken to stand before Captain Heron and his aide, Butler. They surveyed her coldly with none of that admiration to which she was accustomed.

‘You are on good terms with the traitor Wallace,’ said the Captain.

‘Wallace?’ she wrinkled her brows. ‘Who is he?’

‘Come, Mistress, that will not do. He is your lover. He slept in your bed last night. He came disguised as a priest. We know of this.’

‘You are mistaken.’

One of the guards caught her arm and twisted it backwards. She cried out in pain. ‘How dare you—’ she began.

Her face was slapped.

That to Ellen, who had never had anything but the desiring hands of men laid on her, was a violent shock. She knew then that she was in serious trouble.

‘Listen to me, woman,’ said the Captain, ‘we know that you are a friend of William Wallace. We know that he visits you. Do not deny it. If you hold anything back from us, it will go ill with you. Do you know what we do to women like you? I will tell you. We shall roll you up in a bale of hay and set fire to it.’

‘You could not,’ she stammered.

‘Could we not? We shall see. Bring in the hay.’

It was true. They had it ready. ‘It would be a waste of such pleasant flesh,’ said the Captain wryly. ‘Come, be sensible, girl. Wallace visited you in the guise of a priest last night. When does he come again?’

‘He … will not come again.’

‘He came last night did he not?’

She did not speak and he signed for them to bring the hay.

‘Yes … yes,’ she said quickly. ‘He came last night.’

‘And when does he come again?’

She was silent. They seized her and two of them threw the bale of hay at her feet.

‘Tonight,’ she cried. ‘He comes tonight.’

They released her.

‘When he comes,’ the Captain said, ‘you will hold him there. Divest him of his clothes … That will be no difficult task, I am sure. Then when he is in your bed, before you join him put a rush light in your window. It shall be our signal to come and take him.’

She stammered, ‘I cannot do it …’

‘You will do it,’ she was told. ‘And if you do not you know what awaits you. Do your duty and we shall not forget you. You will be rich. We shall not forget. There is a high price on his head. It is time a woman like you had a husband so that she does not have to rely on any pleasant-looking man who comes her way. Deliver Wallace to us and Lord Percy himself will want to thank you. He will find a man who will marry you. A knight no less, and he shall be a man of your choice. So you see, Mistress, great good can come to you … great good or cruel death. Remember it.’

Ellen went thoughtfully back to her home. Marriage with a goodly knight. A fortune. Never again to wander through the town returning the glances which came her way … looking for a handsome gentleman. A steady husband, a man who could give her fine clothes … that for the betrayal of Wallace.

She knew what she had to do. They were afraid of him. They wanted him bereft of his clothes so that they could take him easily. So had Delilah betrayed Samson.

She waited for him. He came as he said he would. She opened the door and there stood her priest.

‘It was dangerous to come,’ she said.

‘Would I not risk danger for a night with you? ’Tis worth it, fair Ellen.’

She led him to the bedchamber. Her heart was beating fast. It would soon be over. She thought of him as he had been when they brought him in from the midden. Her mother had said: ‘He is William Wallace, the greatest man in Scotland’; and they had been proud of him. She had been proud of him. Her mother was now sleeping in her room. She knew of course that men visited her daughter. It was a way of life and it brought them comforts. She had not told her mother that Wallace had come last night. She would have done so, of course, but they had taken her off to be questioned, and when she came back she did not want to alarm her mother.

They went to her attic. It would all be so easy. She could feign ignorance. But he would say, ‘Why do you put a light in your window?’ and she would answer, ‘Because I wish to see you. I see so little of you. I want to feast my eyes on you while I can.’

Then soon they would come to take him …

She had loved him in her light and easy way as she had loved many men, but never one quite like William Wallace. She did not like to think of men being tortured. Men were not meant for that. Why could they not all live comfortably together? There was so much in life that was good.

He lay there naked on her bed. Now was the time. Set the rush light in the window … and wait.

They could not be far off now. They were out there looking at her window waiting for the sign.

‘I cannot do it,’ she cried suddenly. She sat on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

‘What ails you, Ellen?’ he asked.

‘They are coming to take you. They have threatened to burn me in a bale of hay if I do not deliver you to them. I am afraid … but I cannot do it.’

He was off the bed. ‘They are coming for me! When?’

‘Now. There is no time. They are waiting for the signal.’

In a second he had grasped the situation. He had the answer as she had known he would. ‘Strip off your clothes, Ellen,’ he said.

She did so and he put them on. They were too small of course but he covered their inadequacy with a big cloak as he had once done with a shawl at the spinning wheel. Then he set one of her hats on his head.

‘They will kill me,’ she said.

‘No, they will not. I am going to tie you to the bedpost. You must tell them that I had wind of the plot and that I made you strip and give me your clothes. I then put them on and tied you up. So that you could not give the signal. Now I will leave you. There is nothing to fear. I’ll see you again before long.’

He went out of the cottage. He ran shouting to the guards in a falsetto voice remarkably like that of Ellen.

Two of them appeared. He pointed to the cottage. ‘He is in there. He is naked … Go in and take him.’

The alarm was given. The two guards were not going in alone. They knew Wallace. As speedily as they could they got a band of them together and stormed the cottage.

Ellen told them how she had been following their instructions when Wallace had suddenly seized her and tied her up. So well did she tell her story and so appealing did she look half dressed and in distress that they untied her and reassured her that no harm would come to her, before making off to catch the impudent fugitive. Before they were assembled he had reached his horse, untethered it and was galloping off to join his faithful band in the wood.