Free The Green Man by Kate Sedley Page B

occasional shout of ‘All’s well!’ from the watchmen guarding the castle walls. The closed chamber door shut out all sounds from the ante-room where the two squires were presumably sleeping the sleep of the just.
    I was slipping across the borderline of sleep, having lain awake for quite some time, when something roused me. I had no idea what it was, but it brought me sitting upright in the bed, every faculty alert, my ears straining, my eyes trying desperately to pierce the stuffy, all-embracing gloom. Then I was on my feet, the flagstones striking chill on my bare soles, and out into the room at large, where the page still slept peacefully at the foot of the four-poster, his young limbs sprawled anyhow, his mouth open, saliva dribbling down his chin.
    I had grabbed my cudgel from the floor and now gripped it firmly as I stared around the chamber. I thought something moved behind me and whirled about, but no one was there, only a corner of the room, thick with shadows. I suddenly realized that I could hear Murdo and Donald snoring, where before all had been quiet, and I glanced in the direction of the chamber door. A line of less dense blackness showed that it must be standing slightly ajar. My heart beating unpleasantly fast, I tiptoed towards it, swinging the weighted end of my cudgel backwards and forwards, ready to strike whoever was lurking behind it …
    It was abruptly pushed wide open and Donald Seton stood yawning and stretching in the doorway, his eyes still clogged with sleep.
    â€˜Is something amiss?’ he muttered. ‘I thought I heard someone moving.’
    â€˜You must have the hearing of a rabbit, then,’ I snapped, but keeping my voice as low as possible. ‘What are you doing up and about at this dead hour of the morning?’
    â€˜I needed the piss-pot,’ he answered shortly. ‘What’s your excuse?’
    I hesitated, not being at all sure what had roused me. I countered with another question.
    â€˜Why was the door to the ante-room open?’
    He frowned, puzzled.
    â€˜I just opened it. You saw me. I thought I heard a noise.’
    I shook my head. ‘It was ajar before you appeared. I was just coming to investigate.’
    The squire glanced over his shoulder to where his companion was still snoring peacefully.
    â€˜Couldn’t have been,’ he whispered positively. ‘No one’s been through here, I’m ready to swear. And the other door into the passageway is closed. You can see for yourself.’ Gently he pushed the inner door yet wider.
    I crossed the ante-chamber, soft-footed, to verify the truth of this statement. The door was indeed closed and latched, but it wasn’t bolted, an omission I hastened to point out.
    Donald Seton shrugged.
    â€˜Why bolt it?’ he asked. His lips twitched in a small, mocking grin which I could see with eyes now grown accustomed to the darkness. ‘We’re amongst friends, after all. Or aren’t we? Perhaps His Grace is right to fear the Sassenachs.’
    I bit back the retort hovering on the tip of my tongue; that the duke seemed more fearful of his late brother’s servants than he did of his English hosts. That would have been to put one of them on his guard – always provided, of course, that Albany’s suspicions had any sort of foundation.
    Our voices, although pitched low, had finally aroused Murdo, who struggled up on his pallet to demand what, in the name of Saint Mungo, was going on.
    â€˜I needed the piss-pot, only to find our friend the pedlar up and prowling about.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Ask him!’
    â€˜Before I answer any of your questions,’ I hissed angrily, ‘what I want to know is why, ever since we left London and before, you two and Davey have pretended that you couldn’t speak anything but the raw Scots’ tongue, when all the time you can speak English perfectly well.’ I considered this statement. ‘Well