Toby turned back to Father Lachlan. "Why Glen Shira? I promised Meg's father I would guide her to Oban." What were these two up to — Rory and his pet acolyte?
The little man smiled reprovingly. "She might make it, my son, although she would be questioned. You cannot go that way — not directly. Remember, there are three groups hunting you. Laird Ross and his men will pretend to cooperate with the Sassenachs, while doing everything they safely can to frustrate them. The Sassenachs themselves are much more dangerous. They will have blocked the three main roads — north by Bridge of Orchy, south through Crianlarich, and west through Dalmally and Pass of Brander. We are not far from Lochy Castle, you know." He waved a chubby hand at Glen Lochy, which had now come into view.
Toby hitched his sword to a marginally less uncomfortable position and wished he could hear what was being said at that meeting up ahead.
"So how do we go to Glen Shira? And how do we get from there to Oban?"
"We go on down the Shira. When we reach Loch Fyne, we take a boat. Outwitting the soldiers will not be difficult."
"Who pays for the boat? Who will sail around the Mull of Kintyre at this time of year?" It must be nice to be a trusting sort of person, who did not see betrayal in every cock-and-bull story.
"Or we can cut inland to Loch Lomond."
"And Lady Valda?"
Father Lachlan sighed and studied Toby for a moment with a disconcerting stare. "If she is pursuing you also, my son, then I fear for you — body and soul."
The only comforting thought then was that he would not have said so if he doubted Toby's courage.
Rory had finished his consultation with the locals. They turned and ran off, one to the cottages and the other three in other directions. Father Lachlan rose to clamber over the dike. About to vault it, Toby remembered his sword and took a more cautious approach. He would rather not fall flat on his face with Meg and Rory watching.
"The hunt is on," Rory announced when they reached him. He looked annoyed. Hamish looked owlish. Meg was blue-lipped and shivering. "The Sassenachs have set guards on the Pass of Brander."
"Where did your friends go?" Toby demanded. "And where are they off to?" A stream of youths and leggy boys had begun emerging from the cottages and haring off over the pastures, one after the other. Six… seven…
Rory's silver eyes were as cold as the weather. "To make arrangements. Certain persons will be discouraged from seeing certain things. We will be advised when it is safe to cross the road. And so on." He obviously had no doubts as to who was in command of the expedition.
"No word of the lady?" Father Lachlan inquired.
"Not so far."
Toby had promised Kenneth Tanner that he would deliver Meg safely to her relatives in Oban, but to stick to the letter of his promise now would be to break it in spirit. He represented the greatest danger she would ever face. He must reconsider his duty in the light of circumstances, even though that meant putting trust in strangers — never Rory, but an acolyte ought to be reliable if any man was.
"Wait!" he said. "It's me the Sassenachs are after. They have no quarrel with any of you. You all go on. I won't—"
"Not a chance, Longdirk." Rory spoke softly but emphatically. "Firstly, that's not true. And we're all in this together, anyway."
"Don't be crazy! You all go on; I'll take to the hills. Father Lachlan, will you pledge to see Meg Campbell safely to her cousins' place? I promised her—"
"You're wasting breath, young man," the acolyte said, pulling up his hood and lacing it under his chin. "I am determined to find out what that Valda woman is up to, and I shall be much happier having you where I can keep an eye on you. Now let us be on our way."
Rory made an ahem! noise. "Can you give us a few general clues as to what's going on, Father?"
"I wish I could." The little man pondered for a moment, and then spoke with an authority and decisiveness he had not shown before. "I do think Hamish Campbell was right, and the mysterious woman is the infamous Lady Valda—" Hamish beamed. "There can't be many female hexers on the loose, and her appearance here may explain Oreste."
Rory nodded. "Ah!"
Toby said, "Oreste?"
"We are worried about Baron Oreste." We meant all the rebels, presumably. "He is one of Nevil's closest cronies and a notorious hexer, a most evil man. He arrived in Scotland a couple of weeks ago and is still lurking around Edinburgh, as far as we know. We have been wondering what could be so important as to require his attention here."
"Could he be hunting for King Fergan, sir?" Hamish said, looking as worried as if the Oreste problem were all his fault.
"We thought that," Father Lachlan murmured. "Now the timing suggests he may have come in search of the lady. As to what happened… apparently she tried some sort of conjuration involving Master Strangerson, but I don't know what. It seems to have failed, or produced unexpected results — that's my guess. She may pursue him, and it is up to all of us to keep him out of her clutches. I do not believe he is possessed — if he were, you would be dead by now."
"I would, certainly," Rory said cheerfully, rubbing his chest. "I baited him a little this morning. He displayed remarkable self-control for one of such tender years — almost bovine."
That was what Rory had been up to — testing.
Hamish gulped. "Oh! You thought he might… Wasn't that rash of you, sir?"
The rebel shrugged. "As a mortal, he presented an interesting challenge. As a demon… Well, my father is always telling me I am destined to be roasted with hellfire or ripped to pieces. I thought I could find out if he was correct."
Father Lachlan frowned disapprovingly. "You don't know what fear is, do you?"
Rory looked modest. Toby gritted his teeth and wished he could teach him.
"So how did our oversized friend escape from the castle, Father?"
"You must ask him. Anything he told me was in confidence."
Toby had been watching Meg's horrified eyes growing wider and wider. "Tell them, Father — I don't care. If I am a danger to them, they should be aware of it. They know about the Sassenachs, they should hear of Lady Valda, too. Won't her powers enable her to track me down?"
"Powers?" the acolyte said disapprovingly. "I told you. She has no powers, my son, only evil skills that enable her to command demons. She herself has only knowledge — evil knowledge, and evil designs." The little man began to move away. "Pray that one day one of her demonic minions will turn on her."
Toby raised his voice. "Can her demons track me down for her, then?"
Father Lachlan stopped and looked around and adjusted his eyeglasses. "Well, yes. Of course they can. From what you told me, two of them are probably in poor condition at the moment, but one would be enough."
With a macabre chuckle, Rory slapped Toby on the back. "If they get within range, Longdirk, they'll nail your feet to the rocks. We must move."
"What is their range?"
"Good question! Father?"
"Impossible to say, my son. Some demons are more powerful than others, or more biddable, perhaps — it depends on their training. A bottled demon… Well, I am sure that Baron Oreste in Edinburgh can communicate with King Nevil in London, if that is where he is. Demons incarnate, as Lady Valda's are presently, are much more restricted — but I don't think we should let them get any closer than we have to."
CHAPTER FOUR
Rory called a halt for lunch in the lee of a dry-stone dike. If those were dry stones, Hamish remarked, then he had forgotten what the word meant. The five fugitives hunkered down to pool their remaining supplies. There were no trees to provide better shelter from the downpour, but why not a haystack or a cattle barn? Rory insisted on the wall. He wanted to keep an eye on the road.