An old Celtic church loomed over the whole town, ruined but still impressive. The road leading out of Jedburgh and on to Hawick, however, was little more than a cow path that followed the riverbank. Not many people of the town went there, it seemed. When Tessa and Banaugh reached the place a few hours later, they approached a castle of the old motte-and-bailey type. A large stone structure, a motte, had been built on a small knoll for easy defense, then surrounded by an area fenced with upright wood pilings called the bailey. They passed one set of guards at the outer gate then walked onward, passing several small cottages where people plied their trades. Leatherworkers, smiths, bakers, millers, and weavers sat in the mid-September afternoon, finishing the day’s work as their wives and children moved around them, tending to the attendant tasks of the trade. A couple of young churls polished armor by dropping each rusty piece into a barrel of sand and then rolling it vigorously between them until the sand scraped the rust away.
