Must the Maiden Die (25 page)

"Not alone, she couldn't. There's a cabin or
two on high ground along the western edge. Maybe quarter mile due
north of where Black Brook flows into it." His hand began to move
down her spine, making the silk whisper softly.

"I think it's getting late, Jacques."

"Think you're right."

He gently pressed her down on the blanket
over the soft, fragrant clover.

***

When they rode back into the stand of pines
behind the garden, Glynis said to him, "I'm afraid for you and
Bronwen. This Oswego scheme sounds dangerous."

Jacques slid off the horse and lifted her
down. "Some don't mind danger. It's the ones left behind who mind
the most."

Glynis nodded, then forced herself to smile,
reaching up to lay her hand against his cheek. "Please watch over
Bronwen, if you can. And be careful, Jacques."

"O.K." He caught her hand, and held it
fast.

Have they not sped? have they not divided
the prey? to
every man a damsel or two.

—
Book of Judges

An early morning fog was lifting from the village,
and bells in the church steeples struck the hour of seven as
Glynis hurried up Fall Street. Like a ball of fire, a red sun sat
above the eastern horizon. Rain before nightfall, she thought,
raising the skirt of her cream-colored muslin dress above her
ankles to walk quickly over the dirt road without stirring up
cloudlets of dust. She had overslept, and now feared she wouldn't
reach Cullen before the search party left. Her fear seemed
justified, for when she turned the corner and headed down the slope
to the firehouse, the road in front looked all but deserted.

After she had rounded the brick building,
she saw a handful of unfamiliar-looking men and several spavined
horses standing on the towpath. The men were unshaven and unkempt,
and several were passing a bottle back and forth; Glynis felt it
safe to assume that they were not in the employ of the law. More
than likely they were drifters. They would wait to pick up a few
hours' of work, then spend what little money they earned at
Serenity's, or at one of the other taverns along the canal. At
least two of them could be bounty hunters, since they carried
shotguns and bore the greedy, predatory look of men who hunted
humans for money. Not a savory crew. And clearly Cullen was not
around or he would have moved them on.

She went to his office door and, finding it
open, stepped inside to see lanky young Liam Cleary seated in
Cullen's desk chair. He set down his mug of coffee and stood up,
wiping a freckled hand across his mouth.

"Constable Stuart's left already, Miss
Tryon."

"How long ago?" she asked, trying keep guilt
over her belated arrival from defeating her purpose.

"Left at dawn, couple hours back."

"He was headed for the swamp, I suppose?"
Glynis asked. When Liam nodded, she said, "How many men did he
take?"

"Besides Zeph and his bloodhounds? Maybe a
half-dozen others."

Eight men to search the twelve-mile-long
swamp with no idea where to start looking. In some places Montezuma
Marsh was as much as eight miles wide; with thousands of acres to
cover, they would never find the girl. But the east side of the
marsh fronted Cayuga Lake for some distance to the north, so they
might rule out that area.

"Liam, did the constable say where he was
going to start the search?"

"Said they'd begin at the south end of the
swamp. Near Dermont Creek."

"Where it flows into Cayuga Lake?" When Liam
nodded again, Glynis said, "Then he plans to go up the west side of
the marsh?"

"Guess so."

At least the searchers would be traveling in
the right direction. Glynis then asked Liam, "And other than Zeph,
who were the men with Cullen?"

"There were a couple from the Seneca County
Sheriff's Office and...lemme think now."

Glynis waited with impatience while Liam
consulted his memory. Since that might take some time, she tried to
nudge him along by asking, "Was Abraham Levy one of them?"

"Oh, yeah." He then went on to name three
others, one of which was a surprise to Glynis. "Adam MacAlistair
went with them?"

Liam grinned. "Yeah, he said he might as
well do something useful to take his mind off his troubles. Isn't
he supposed to be getting hitched pretty soon?"

When Glynis sighed, Liam added, "Guess
that's the trouble he meant!"

Under the circumstances, Glynis did not feel
compelled to comment. "Liam, I need to reach Constable Stuart with
some information as quickly as possible. But I imagine he wants
someone here in the office—is that why you aren't with him?"

"Told me I was in charge here, yeah. So I
don't dare leave for any length of time, Miss Tryon. Constable,
he'd skin me alive if I did."

While Glynis knew this was youthful
exaggeration, she also knew Liam wouldn't disobey Cullen, no matter
whose life, including his own, might be threatened. So who else
might be available to carry a message to Cullen? There was Danny
Ross, smart and reliable enough, but why hadn't he gone with Cullen
in the first place?

When she asked Liam this, he answered,
"Danny had to help his mother install some new kinda water pump in
the laundry. He said Mr. Gould let them have the pump at half
price."

Danny was the oldest son of Daisy Ross, who,
more than a decade before, had been left a young widow with five
small children. Daisy had opened Seneca Falls's first
"Professional Laundry" with a bank loan guaranteed by attorney
Jeremiah Merrycoyf. Widower Merrycoyf had said he liked the idea of
clean, ironed shirts. Long hours of back-breaking work by the Ross
family had made the laundry into one of the town's most successful
businesses.

Glynis thought Daisy would spare her son for
an emergency. She said so to Liam.

"O.K., Miss Tryon, I can fetch Danny if
you'll watch things here—reckon that would be all right with the
constable. But what is it you want Danny to do?"

"I've been told," she said, "that there's
some high ground a quarter of a mile north of where Black Brook
flows into the western part of the swamp. The man who the constable
is looking for could be there. And Tamar Jager could be with him.
If Danny Ross could just take word to the constable..." She
hesitated, shaking her head, having realized that Danny would have
trouble even locating Cullen. But then she remembered hearing that
the boy was a good hunter. "Liam, please bring Danny here and I'll
tell—"

She broke off, as a sudden noise in the
doorway made her turn to see one of the men from the tow-path who
she guessed might be bounty hunters. A stocky man, he swaggered
into the office carrying a shotgun, a sly smile creasing his
bristled face. A long white scar ran from one eye down the length
of his cheek, and several of his front teeth were missing. That
along with his scruffy clothes, Glynis thought uneasily, lent him
the look of a ruffian in one of Jonathan's favored novels.

"I know them parts of that swamp," the man
said, gruffly. "Any reward posted for them two?"

Glynis said, "No!" At the same time Liam
said, "Yes."

"Which is it?" asked the man looking back
and forth at them.

Glynis tried to catch Liam's eye, but in
vain, because he answered obliviously, "There's a reward for the
girl."

"I'm sure it's not much," Glynis said, as
she couldn't imagine anything more terrifying for Tamar Jager than
to be confronted with this man. "Not much at all," she added,
sending Liam another frantic look of appeal.

The man grinned. "Don't need much. Got
nothin' else to do, so I think I'll just give it a go. Take my pal
here with me."

He turned slightly, and Glynis saw behind him a
short, thin man with a long scrawny neck who had about him the
sharp-eyed look of a turkey vulture. He was obviously taking the
idea of a scavenger hunt more seriously than his grinning
companion.

The heavy man now asked with profound good
humor, "You want this girl dead or alive?"

"Alive! She is not to be harmed in any way,"
Glynis said icily. "The girl is not a criminal, and furthermore,
Mr.... I don't believe I caught your name."

"Name's Sledge, pretty lady. Glad to make
your acquaintance."

"To be truthful, Mr. Sledge," Glynis stated,
in the most forceful tone she could, "I don't believe your
assistance will be necessary. The constable and his search party
are more than capable of finding the girl. I think, in fact, he
will be back here with her shortly. So you see, there's no point in
putting yourself out for no reason."

Having despaired of Liam's support, she was
surprised to hear him pipe up, "Yeah, I think Constable Stuart can
find her all right with the men he's got. Hope so, anyway."

"Well, now, if it's all the same to you,"
the stocky man said cheerfully, "I think me and my pal here will
just take a look-see. We're damn good—begging your pardon, ma'am—at
tracking fugitives. I bet we find her faster'n your constable!"

With this he backed out of the office and
motioned to the smaller man, and they strutted toward the
horses.

Glynis whirled to Liam, saying, "Why did you
say there was a reward? They would just as soon kill the girl, or
Lord knows what else, as—" She stopped, because Liam looked so
abjectly shamefaced. "Never mind, Liam, it's done now. But bring
Danny Ross here as fast as you can. Those two men mustn't find that
girl!"

I have been hunted like a bird by those who
were my enemies without cause.

—
Book of Lamentations

The girl sat on a birch log in the silvery,
warm afternoon, feeding kernels of corn to the crow and watching
Gerard stack logs. The dog lay on the ground beside her. Every now
and then she glanced at the sky, where a red sun was descending
into the haze that hung over the swamp; it looked angry, she
thought, as if the red ball might suddenly burst and hurl down
chunks of fire.

Gerard's movements were quick and sure as he
rearranged the logs in the woodpile to make, he said, "A cave to
hide you if anyone comes."

She must have looked frightened, because he
added, "I don't think anyone will. Who would think of searching
for you so far north of town? Besides, from the look of that sky,
we're due for a storm soon and that will keep everyone away."

The girl nodded, and she tried to smile. She
hadn't smiled in a long time, and her mouth felt strange, like it
belonged to someone else. But Gerard stopped shifting the wood and
stood smiling back at her, so she guessed that she had done it
right. Maybe smiling was something that, after you had done it
once, you didn't have to learn it again.

The dog Keeper raised his head and gave a
contented yawn, then settled back to doze. Moments later he sneezed
in his sleep, as cottonwoods growing near the edge of the marsh
were sending out small white tufts that floated on the strangely
still air like iridescent motes of silk.

The crow, demanding more corn, gave a harsh
caw and rose on its feet to flap glossy dark wings. It made the
girl remember that, the night before, she had dreamed about a dark
shadow pressing her into the ground so she couldn't breathe. She
must have been gasping, or crying, because she woke to Gerard
kneeling beside the straw pallet, stroking her hair and saying,
"It's all right, Tamar. Don't be frightened." And Keeper's muzzle
was resting on her arm while he whined softly and gazed at her with
his alert, bright eyes.

Then Gerard had said to her, "I think
someone has hurt you badly. Is that true?"

She had tried not to cry, but she felt the
tears come, washing down the sides of her face and into her hair.
When she struggled to sit up, Gerard had gently eased her back
against the straw pallet, and had blotted the tears with his
fingers.

"You don't have to be afraid," he had said.
"No one will hurt you again. I hope you can believe me."

She had believed him. And, believing, she
had gone back to sleep.

Now she smiled again, and reached down to
fondle Keeper's head, so she felt the dog's first tremor. A second
later his nose twitched, and he sprang to his feet.

Gerard stopped what he was doing and looked
at the dog. "Keeper? What's the matter, boy? You smell
something?"

The dog's ears went forward and he gave a
low growl. When the girl got up from the log, her heart clenched,
for in the distance was the faint sound of dogs baying. The crow
took several hops before it lifted into the air with a great flap
of wings and soared off into a sky that was darkening like
tarnished silver.

The girl looked at Gerard. Were the baying
dogs searching for her?

He motioned for her to stay where she was,
then he turned and ran inside the cabin. He came back out with a
long length of rope. "Keeper, come!" he called.

The dog came, but he was still growling, his
nose pointing south in the direction of Black Brook. Gerard looped
the rope around the dog's neck. "Quiet. Quiet, boy!"

The dog stopped growling, but his body
quivered. The baying still sounded far away.

"Tamar, we need to leave," Gerard said.

Shaking her head, she pointed to the cave he
had made in the woodpile.

"No, that's not finished yet," he said
quickly. "The hounds would find you there in a minute. We have to
leave fast!"

He took her hand and pulled her toward the
canoe.

Keeper, trailing the rope, ran ahead and
jumped into the long, narrow boat, then stood growling as Gerard
led the girl to it.

"Get in," he told her. "Sit on the bottom
and don't move around."

Gerard's eyes worried her because they had
grown so fierce, but she knew that was because of the hounds and
not because of something she had done. She climbed into the canoe,
and he lifted an end to thrust it into the water, then scrambled in
behind her and snatched the paddle she handed to him. They glided
north from the shoreline and out into the swamp as a long roll of
thunder came from the west.