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Montrose,
ordering an immediate move, went for a last appeal to George Gordon.
But there was no moving that unhappy but dutiful son. His father's
will must prevail in this matter. He would not muster Clan Gordon.
The best he could do, he declared in evident distress, and
apparently at Straloch's suggestion, was to offer a single troop of
say
100
cavalry,
not as any sort of contribution but purely to escort the royalists
off Gordon territory. If it served to make die Lord Marquis's force
look slightly the stronger, from a distance as it were, that
was as might be. But it would return at the limits of Gordon land,
and would on no account draw sword on their behalf.

Montrose
looked at the young man, his handsome features set. 'Very well,' he
said, carefully. 'If that is the best that Gordon can do, in this
pass, I accept it. As King Charles's Viceroy. I thank you.'

George
Gordon turned and strode to a window, to stare out. I am sorry . .
.' he said over his shoulder, his voice choking.

So
the King's army left Strathbogie, some
800
strong,
with less than
250
of
it horsed, and
150
of
that number under orders not to fight

26

With
the word that Aroyll - or rather, the Marischal,
who
in this context was the greater menace - was coming up Donside,
circling the Correen Hills, by Alford and Lumsden, Montrose headed
eastwards for the upper Ythan and Gight rather than into the wild
hills, westwards. On two accounts. In increasingly wintry conditions
it grew ever more difficult to feed and forage his host in empty
mountains; and there were still vast Gordon lands far to die east,
in Formartine and Buchan, remote from Strathbogie, where Huntly's
writ might run less strongly, according to Nathaniel Gordon.

They
camped that first night in the bare uplands west of Rothienorman,
above the Ythan, the Gordon cavalry keeping very much to itself
and looked on with suspicion by the rest. The maintaining of
adequate scouting parties had been a big problem for long now, owing
to lack of the necessary horsed men; but with Argyll's slow if
steady pursuit this had been of no great moment, a small cavalry
rearguard serving the main purpose, with a few pairs of riders well
ahead ana to die flanks. At Strathbogie, Montrose had relied on
Gordon's own in-built system of intelligence - and that now proved
to have been an error of judgment. Next morning, they had barely
left camp when couriers arrived, from Strathbogie admittedly, but
grievously delayed, almost too late. The Covenant cavalry under the
Earl Marischal, it seemed, had moved on fast, far ahead of Argyll's
main army, and was now only a short distance behind.

Nathaniel
Gordon looked grave when he heard that the couriers thought the
large cavalry force had passed the night in the Culsalmond area -
and it took a deal to sober that optimist. If this was true, they
could be on them in an hour or two, he declared, knowing the
country. Montrose, who was a comparative stranger to these uplands,
demanded at once where was the nearest defensive site. It was bare
open country of green grassy slopes hereabouts, ideal for cavalry.
No use in telling the infantry to disperse and make a bolt for it;
they could be ridden down and hunted like hares by hounds. They must
fight, whatever the odds. Was there any position which they could
reach in time, where they could make a stand? Any Gordon castle, for
instance? For such were apt to be set in strong natural sites.

None
worth calling strong, the other lamented, amidst a volley of curses.
The nearest castle was Towie, a Barclay place and a fine house - but
not strong. Fyvie was better five miles to the south. But it was a
Seton hold, the Earl of Dunfermline's, allied to Gordon. It stood
amongst the Ythan marshes. But the Earl did not live there. And his
sympathies were doubtful
...

'Marshes,
you say? Fyvie, amongst marshes? How far?'

'Four
miles. Five. In the Ythan valley, north-by-east. The castle stands
on a spine of higher land in the flooded valley. A sour place ...'

'Then
Fyvie it is! With all speed. Pass the word. Hasten !'

The
infantry almost at a run, they turned in their new direction. And as
they went, Gordon of Lethangie, in command of the cavalry
escort, drew up to Montrose's side.

'We
leave you now, my lord,' he cried. 'My orders are that we be
concerned in no fighting.'

'But
. . . dear God, man! We have not even
seen
the
enemy! At least bide with us to Fyvie. Draw no sword, if you must
not - but
be
there.
Five-score cavalry, in a prominent place, could save a day, without
moving a foot!'

"No,
sir - my orders were clear. To leave you at first hint of conflict.
And - you intend to fight.'

'I
intend to fight!' the Graham agreed, grimly. 'Go, then - and God
pity Gordon !'

Nathaniel
thereof swore himself hoarse.

One
hundred and fifty men short, they reached Fyvie without
interception, and found it much as described. The Ythan here
sprawled in its fairly narrow valley amidst bogland,
water-meadows and scrub, with a long narrow loch to the east. There
were islands in the waterlogged vale. Two were linked by a low ridge
of higher, drier ground. On that to the south clustered the village
- a strange place of turf-roofed huts and wooden cabins, whose folk
must have webbed-feet, according to Colonel Sibbald. And on the
higher end of die ridge, to the north, soared the tall and handsome
brown-stone castle, with drum-towered gatehouse and three other
great towers, turreted, gabled and splendid, although with an air of
desertion. It had been the seat of the ancient Thanes of Formartyne,
though much of the present building had been erected within the last
century by the great first Earl of Dunfermline, Chancellor of
Scotland, grandfather of the present rather feeble lord.
Montrose eyed it all assessingly.

'We
shall give a good account of ourselves there,' he said, to Johnnie
at his side. 'Charles Seton was my friend once. We shall assume his
hospitality in his absence!'

‘
Will
. . . will it be bad?' the boy asked. 'We cannot win, can we?'

‘
No,
I fear we cannot win, lad. But it may be that we can keep
them
from
winning. With God's help. Which may serve.'

'We
cannot all get into that castle. What of those left out
...
?'

'None
of us will be in the castle, Johnnie. It would be but a trap. We
will hold this wooded ridge, between the river and that marshy loch.
Backs to the loch, which cannot be crossed. Castle on our right
flank, village on our left .River and bog before us. Afoot, where
cavalry cannot reach us.'

John,
Lord Graham, swallowed, and tried not to look dismayed.

Black
Pate was away with some of the precious cavalry now, scouting,
watching the enemy, reporting back. The Marischal, following the
line of their former advance, had eben taken by surprise at the turn
towards Fyvie, and had overshot towards the east, on the way to
Gight. He had now turned back - but it allowed them a little longer.
He was in major strength, in three groups of some
500
each
- dragoons, trained heavy cavalry. Argyll, with his thousands of
foot, was still miles behind, to the south, but coming up as fast as
he might.

That
message, reporting
1500
horse,
was like a blow at James Graham's heart. But he allowed no hint of
his distress to show. His fifty or so remaining cavalry he spread
along the summit of the spine, where they were very evident, and,
interspersed with scattered thorn trees, might seem rather more than
they were. In theory they were commanded by the Earl of Airlie, but
in fact by Nathaniel Gordon, who would lead in any desperate action.
The foot would be divided into three companies of less than
200
each,
to man the west slope of the ridge, amongst the trees and stone
dykes - but later. Meantime all must be massed to hold the south
approach to the ridge, from the village - for this was the only
approach for cavalry, the Ythan and its belt of haugh-land and
water-meadow being too soft for horses. Montrose would have held the
village itself, if he could; but his numbers were too small.
There was a drystone dyke across the spine about
300
yards
north of the houses, with a gateway for the road to the castle. That
must be their holding line, with open ground before it. All men with
muskets to man that wall.

Hardly
were these dispositions completed when Pate Graham and his dozen
horsemen came back at the gallop, hotly pursued by a troop of
Covenant cavalry, so close had been his shadowing. They clattered
through the village, now discreedy deserted by its inhabitants, and
into the elongated box which was the royalist position - and a
volley of precious ball from O'Cahan's veterans brought down a few
of their pursuers, and warned off the rest.

Pate
actually had a prisoner with him, a sergeant of Lothian's dragoons
captured from a picket they had surprised. He informed that the
Earl Marischal was in personal command just behind, with his brother
George Keith leading one cavalry group of
500,
and
the Earl of Lothian the other. Argyll was thought to be some four
hours' march away still with more cavalry and some
4000
foot,
the latter in. two sections, one much farther forward than die other
which accompanied die baggage and artillery.

They
had not long to wait. In gallant if alarming style, the Covenant
horsed host appeared over the skyline of die Cairn Hill shoulder to
the south, rank upon rank, in good order, banners flying, a daunting
sight.

Soon
trumpets were blowing, as die Marischal perceived the situation, and
drew up his squadrons in a great extended line, scores deep. In
contrast, the three-score royalist horse, however carefully placed,
looked little short of pathetic.

'Thirty
times our number!' Pate Graham growled. "Damned traitors!'

'Not
that,' Montrose demurred. 'Misguided, shall we say? Fellow subjects
misguided. William Keith was ever headstrong. But no traitor.'