The Highwayman

33

A Woman and Her Jewels Bannagran walked through the streets of Pryd Town muttering to himself, remembering his last conversation with Laird Prydae. He had not often seen his friend so animated and agitated. The continuing war threat to Pryd Holding had the laird on the edge, and this Highwayman character was threatening to push him right over. Every day at breakfast, Prydae spoke of nothing else, feverishly working with Bannagran and Rennarq to try to find some clues as to how they might apprehend the rogue. Every day, they related the same stories over and over again. Prydae had even bade Rennarq to ask Bernivvigar for help, something the secular ruler had always been loath to do.

Bannagran tried a rational approach now, focusing on the patterns of the attacks, from the first sighting of the Highwayman to the last. His thoughts and instincts kept going back to the first incident, the only one in which anyone had been seriously hurt, other than one of Yeslnik's drivers in the powrie attack. As chance would have it, with those very thoughts in mind, he spotted Rulhio Noylan-who had been among the five that the Highwayman had defeated-walking along the road by the market square.

The large warrior moved to intercept, and Rulhio saw him coming and abruptly turned.

"I would speak with you, young Noylan," Bannagran said, moving fast to catch up.

Rulhio's expression showed great fear when he glanced back at Bannagran, but no more so than Bannagran was used to seeing on the faces of young men, for usually when he spoke to them, it meant a trip to the south and the battle lines! Still, the young man did skid to an abrupt stop and stood waiting for the imposing warrior.

"You were there that night when Tarkus Breen was murdered?" Bannagran asked.

Rulhio swallowed hard and managed a slight nod.

"I wish to hear the tale."

"I told it in full," Rulhio replied shakily. "We all did."

Bannagran sensed suddenly that the man was a bit too defensive, and his instincts told him that there might be more to this than had previously been explained. Knowing aggression to be the arbiter of truth, the imposing warrior grabbed poor Rulhio by the front of his tunic. "And you will tell me again," he too-calmly explained, and he half carried, half dragged the terrified man off the main road, down a side alley where fewer witnesses could be found.

So the cringing Rulhio recounted the tale of that fateful night, a story that seemed strained now to Bannagran and not completely in line with what he had heard those weeks before. Bannagran purposely doubted every word, and searched for weaknesses in the logical chain of events.

"You and your friends were drunk?"

"Aye, he could not have defeated us if we were not," the terrified young man replied.

"And this happened out on the west road, out by Gorham's Hill?"

"Aye, as we told you. Way out there."

"Where did you come by the drink?"

"Inkerby's," Rulhio replied, naming a well-known tavern in Pryd Town, under the shadow of the castle and often frequented by soldiers.

Bannagran tried to hide his smile as he caught on. Why would five drunken men-troublemakers all, he knew-wander from Inkerby's, which was frequented by many of the local whores, all the way out to the western edge of Pryd Town. To his knowledge, none of the five in question lived out that way.

"Gorham's Hill is a long walk from town," he remarked, and he saw the sudden flash of panic in Rulhio's eyes.

"Well, we were drinking and needed to walk it off a bit. Me ma's not in favor of me-"

"You are often drunk," Bannagran interrupted. "And your mother knows as much."

"Just walking, is all."

"To Gorham's Hill? From Inkerby's?"

"Aye."

Bannagran went with his instincts. He came forward suddenly and brutally, grabbing poor, frightened Rulhio and lifting him off the ground. Two strides put them across the alley, where Bannagran slammed Rulhio up against the wall and held him in place, his feet a foot and more off the ground.

"W-what are…?" Rulhio stuttered. "Why are-?"

"You tell me why you were out by Gorham's Hill."

"I just-" Rulhio started to reply. Bannagran brought him out and slammed him against the wall again, and Rulhio cried out.

"Hey there!" someone shouted in protest from the entrance of the alleyway, but when the newcomer saw who was down there-the legendary Bannagran-he ran off.

"My polite questioning fast approaches its end," Bannagran warned, and he pulled poor Rulhio out from the wall again, as if to slam him.

"Was the wench Cadayle!" Rulhio cried, and Bannagran froze, holding him aloft with ease.

"Cadayle?"

"She lives out there. Nothing but trouble for all of us. Teasing all the town men with her charms and protecting that ugly Stork beast who hides in the chapel."

Bannagran put him down, and Rulhio slumped back against the wall, which seemed the only thing holding him up at the moment.

"What are you blabbering about, man?" Bannagran demanded.

"We just wanted to teach her some respect."

"Who? Cadayle?"

"Aye, the wench."

"I know not of her."

"She's living out by Gorham's Hill with her ma," Rulhio explained. "Was Tarkus Breen's idea to pay them a visit. She fought him, here in town, defending that ugly little Stork."

"And so you went out there to teach her a lesson."

"Someone had to!"

Bannagran didn't argue the point with the fool. "And did you? Teach her, I mean?"

"We was going to."

"Did you find her?"

"Aye, we knew where she lived, her and her ma. We had her ready to learn, but then the-the Highwayman, he showed up, and…"

Bannagran pulled the man out from the wall. "He showed up and defended the women?"

"Weren't any of his business."

"And he beat you up and your brother?"

"Aye, and he murdered Tarkus!"

Bannagran nodded and roughly pushed Rulhio toward the alley's exit. "Show me this house by Gorham's Hill," he ordered. "I would like to see this woman, Cadayle."

Rulhio started to protest, but Bannagran shoved him again, hard enough to send him sprawling, and he got the message that this was not the time to argue.

Later that day, after sighting the house and Cadayle, Bannagran went back to Castle Pryd and alerted his spies. He thought to go to Laird Prydae with his hunch but changed his mind. Perhaps Rulhio's admission was important. Perhaps not. Guldibonne Cob rested back against the trunk of a tree, relaxed and quite pleased with himself. For months the slender soldier had worked hard to get in Bannagran's favor, and now his efforts at last seemed to be paying dividends. All those who had fought in the ranks beside Guldibonne were back in the south, warring with the savages from Ethelbert.

But not Guldibonne. Bannagran hadn't sent him back, for he had given Bannagran reason to keep him around. Any errand, asked or unasked, the man had jumped to complete. He had scouted out the most tempting ladies in all the taverns of Pryd Holding, and even beyond Pryd Holding, and had brought them to his commander. It was all in the details, Guldibonne knew, and his attention to those little things had landed him this wonderful duty, watching the house of a pair of pretty women, mother and daughter, while his former comrades were off again at war.

He had gotten to know the lay of the land about Gorham's Hill very well during that first day and had found what he considered to be the perfect observation post, tucked in the boughs of a thick evergreen, with a view of the house, the lane before it, and the rocky field running wide behind. So comfortable was he that he even dared to take a bit of a nap that afternoon while the women were out tending their garden.

Guldibonne awoke soon after sunset, when the lights of candles and fires were just beginning to glow through the small windows and cracks in the wooden doors of the nearby cottages. The spy waited a bit, then carefully looked all about before heading to the window in Cadayle's house. He crept up right below the sill and slowly lifted his head to peek in.

The younger woman was there before him, partially dressed and unknowingly showing him much of her curving charms. But Guldibonne, as much of a lech as he was known to be, found his eyes drawn away from Cadayle's breasts, and up to her neck, where she was placing one of the most magnificent jeweled necklaces he had ever seen.

No peasant could possess even a single one of those glittering stones!

Trembling, Guldibonne finally managed to tear himself away from the amazing sight, and he lowered himself to the ground and slunk away. He hit the road and began walking, even started quietly whistling, in an attempt to appear casual and draw no attention. But this was too much to suppress-wouldn't Bannagran reward him magnificently for this information!

The man began to run full out, all the way to Castle Pryd.