Never Never (13 page)

Was she mad? What if they had a gun or bow and arrow?

“Ava!” he barked.

She turned around to see him but didn't move from the window. “They have Cokes and whiskey, too,” she said breathlessly. “Shaun, they're not even asking to come in.”

“Like hell they're not,” he said edging her away from the window.

The big man was back and he had a woman with him. They looked cold and a needle of guilt wedged in Shaun's gut. The woman was smiling up at him.

Don't trust them. You know you can't trust them.

“I was just telling your Missus,” the big man said, “that we have a nurse and we have medicines. Ibuprofen, aspirin, antibiotics and me sister is a homeopathic genius. If you have sickness among you—”

Shaun turned and glowered at Ava. “Did you tell them we had a sick child?”

“No,” she said angrily, “
you
did last night.” She clapped her hands on her hips, elbows akimbo and stared him down.

He turned back to the man.

“Fine. We'll send a basket down on a rope,” he said. “Put the medicines in the basket and thank you.”

“Shaun!” Ava said. “They're freezing out there!”

Shaun ignored her. He saw the man's shoulders sag inside his jacket. He knew how much he wanted—needed—to get his people in the castle but it couldn't be helped. The man leaned over to hear the woman who spoke sharply to him. Finally, the man nodded.

“Aye,” he said with obvious resignation. “Lower the basket.”

M
ike stood
by the castle wall and watched the basket lower. For a moment he wondered what would happen if he grabbed it and jerked the bastard out the window. The problem with that plan was that the berk would surely break his neck when he fell so would be relatively useless as a bargaining chip or even more likely, would just let go of the rope altogether.

“This way we gain their trust, Mike,” Sarah said. “It's a process.”

“But not one that will see our lot in a nice warm castle tonight,” he muttered under his breath.

“A long process,” Sarah said. “But one that will work. It's a better plan than whatever hair brained idea you had about standing all the men on their shoulders and climbing up the back wall.”

The basket thumped to a stop on the ground at the same moment they both heard Siobhan's unmistakable wail coming from their tent. Mike crossed the empty moat to retrieve the basket and looked in the direction of their tent but Sarah was already moving.

“I'll go,” she said. “Do you need help with the medicines? They're in Declan's tent.”

“Nay,” Mike said, waving up to the castle to signal they had the basket. “I'll handle it.”

He picked up the basket and threaded the rope through the loop, leaving it on the ground and then crossed back over the moat wondering how tricky it would be to fill the thing with water. He hurried to Fiona's tent. He knew his face might not be one his sister most wanted to see but she'd change her mind when she heard him out.

He entered the tent and saw Declan sprawled on his bed of blankets and sleeping bags. The air was stuffy and smelled of wet canvas. Fiona watched him as he entered.

“Are we leaving?” she asked dully.

“We're getting into the castle,” he said.

She jumped to her feet, her eyes wide. “Are ye serious?”

“I'm serious that I need your help to make it happen.”

Her body deflated and she sat back down next to Declan.

He looked around the tent. “Where's wee Ciara?”

“She's with the other kiddies. Maeve was her best friend.”

“I know, Fi. Look, I'm that sorry about everything but if you can just pull it together I promise we can be sitting inside the castle in time for breakfast with Declan in a proper bed in front of a fireplace. I just need you to do as I ask and leave the questions for me to worry about.”

“Questions?” She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm planning on getting us inside tonight and I'm hoping you'll see that we might have to break the rules to do that. And that it will be worth it.”

“Sure why isn't Sarah here? Could it be because these rules you intend to break would be a problem for her?”

“Will you help me get everyone inside? I don't know any other way to do it without your help. And yes. Sarah would be against it.”

After a glance at Declan, Fiona turned back to Mike. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Twenty minutes later, bracing against the cold, Mike left Fiona's tent and ran into Sarah who had Siobhan in her arms.

“What took you so long?” she asked. “Did you get the Cokes?”

“I'm giving them what's important first. We'll send up the other bits later.”

“Why are you giving her homeopathic stuff?” Sarah asked, peering into the basket with a frown. “Why not just give her the Percocet?”

“Fi suggested this would suit them best for a sick child.”

“Really? Fi said that?”

He hurried toward the base of the castle, his long legs taking him well ahead of her. By the time she reached him, breathless and shivering, he was tugging on the line and crossing back to the other side of the moat to watch the basket go up to the window.

“They'll see we can be trusted,” she said, watching the basket ascend. “This will count in our favor. You'll see.”

“Aye, I hope so.”

The man in the window brought the basket in and waved his thanks before disappearing inside.

“Wow. Man of few words,” Sarah said, squinting up at the now empty window. She looked at Mike. “But the mother will be grateful to us. I know she will.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and for a change didn't feel the tension in it. If it weren't for the fact that he'd just lied to her and she'd find out sooner rather than later, he'd bother to hope it would last.

It had stopped snowing, saints be praised. Mike and the other men spent the rest of the long cold afternoon rebuilding the fires and brushing the snow from the tents. Gavin and Tommy had been successful trapping rabbits and some of the women were already roasting them on campfire spits. Even with the snow letting up, it was still a somber day. The children played under the ever-watchful eyes of their mothers and the tension was so thick in the air it felt like wading through fog just to cross the camp from one side to the other.

And all the while, Mike waited. He didn't know if he'd taken a terrible gamble or if he had nothing left to lose. He knew for sure that if his gamble failed, Sarah would never forgive him. He'd have thrown away any chance that the people in the castle would ever trust them—long process or not—and they'd never get in.

The sun hadn't climbed very high in the sky and while it didn't rain, neither did the day warm up either. Right around dinnertime, when more people were coming out of their tents to tend to their cooking and talk with each other, it happened.

The long piercing wail of a mother's lament—coming from the castle wall above.

Mike held his breath but didn't look at the castle. Behind him he felt people turning to look. The cries went on, escalating into anger and then falling in despair. He looked down and saw Sarah standing beside him.

“What did you do?”

“What I had to for the good of the community.”

She stared at him for a moment and then bolted for Fiona's tent. Mike twisted around and grabbed her.

“Sarah, no!”

“You tell me or she will! What have you done?!”

Mike dragged her back to their tent, mindful of the women in the camp now openly staring at them. The fear and distrust he'd felt this morning at the funeral came back a hundred fold.

“I'll not let you go until you promise me you'll—”

“I'm not promising anything until you tell me what you've done!”

“Do you really think I'd hurt a child?” Mike shook her, his frustration pinging off him. He forced himself to let her go, afraid once he started shaking her he might have trouble stopping.

“If it meant the greater good?” she looked at him, her mouth set in a firm line.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked away.

“Fiona called it
hen's teeth
or some such thing. I don't know what herbs they are.”

“Poison.”

“
Nay
. Not really. Just enough to make the child feel and look sicker. That's all.”

“
That's all
. Do you hear that mother's cries? What if that was Siobhan in there? She sounds like she's lost her child. Are you sure she hasn't?”

“I did what was needed.”

“What you
rationalized
was needed you mean. You're a monster.”

“A monster, is it?” he said heatedly. “You won't think so two months from now when there's snow on the ground and Siobhan is warm in her bed
inside the castle
.”

“Oy!”

Both Mike and Sarah jerked their heads to the sound of the voice coming from the window above. Mike took Sarah's arm and pulled her to the tent.

“Stay here,” he said firmly before walking away to stand beneath the window.

“Is everything fine then?” he called up to the window.

“We'll be lowering the drawbridge,” the man said, his face white with alarm.

“Oh, aye?”

“If you could send the nurse in we'd be grateful.”

A
ll Sarah knew was
that if this didn't work, they were all screwed. They'd already proven they weren't to be trusted. Any hope they'd had of forging a relationship with the people inside was gone. Sooner or later, they would find out how they had been tricked—
by using a sick child
—into letting them all inside.

It didn't bode well.

Could the people inside hurt them? Did they have weapons? If they were angry, could they attack them? The compound group was just about as vulnerable as they'd ever been. If not for the snow and the ungodly cold, they would surely have already been attacked by drifters or other thugs prowling for victims.

Sarah sat by the struggling campfire, a wool rug pulled around her shoulders and Siobhan dozing in her lap. As soon as the castle had asked for the nurse—which, of course was another lie since nobody in the group had any such qualifications—Mike had begun making preparations for Fiona to go in.

He must be desperate, sending his own sister in.

The people inside had been careful. They wouldn't lower the drawbridge until all the men had removed themselves several hundred yards away down the road. The camp women watched silently as Fiona, carrying a knapsack full of painkillers and antibiotics, walked across the wooden drawbridge and disappeared under the raised portcullis into the castle.

Sarah had a brief view of an outdoor fire pit inside and even two large dogs romping in the interior courtyard of the castle. The men began walking back as soon as the drawbridge raised up again. Sarah held Siobhan tightly and tried not to hate the people inside for not allowing them in.

Mike wouldn't come to her now. Whatever he and Fiona were up to, he wouldn't share it with Sarah, nor would he come back to finish their fight. No, he'd spend the rest of the evening and likely the night securing the camp, checking on the horses and staying well away from their tent and his furious wife.

Sarah warmed her hands by the fire and felt the exhausted aftermath of her emotional upheaval. For a few minutes today it had felt like the old Mike and Sarah. She'd felt comfortable with him. They'd plotted together—although now it was clear he had an entirely
different
plot in mind all along. But for a little bit, it had been good again.

For such a bad day—especially the way it began—she'd not even thought much of John today. Not more than she normally did anyway—wondering where he was, who was being nice to him—or not.