His Bonnie Bride (30 page)

"Nay," Phelan whispered. "The man has a liking for torture. Lord Eldon's men are sickened by it, but they can do little, for Sir Hugh and Lady Mary rule. Also, each of them has their own guard who help them hold their rule, enforce their ways. No word of the rest of your men?"

"Nary a whisper. Go on, laddie. Give the men their water. 'Tis all in God's hands now."

Sir Hugh drank deeply of the wine Lady Mary served him. He was hot and weary, wishing only to remove his clothes, his heavy armor and soak in a bath. It was too hot for a battle, especially one that was lasting far too long. The MacLagans had already held for far longer than he had thought they would. He had also lost more men than he had anticipated. It grew harder and harder to drive his army against the walls of Caraidland. As the dead piled up, the living grew hesitant. They were unwilling to face what was apparently a sure death, especially when, as far as they could see, they were gaining nothing. Even the fear of the retribution he would deal out to any who disobeyed was barely enough to keep them doing as he ordered. He had drawn his personal guard nearer as he had sensed the growing rebellion of his troops. Hugh wished he could look inside the walls to see how matters stood within Caraidland. For now he could only make guesses about where the weaker points of defense were and hope that the breakthrough would come before his men turned upon him.

"You are taking a considerable amount of time to bring down the MacLagans."

He glared at Lady Mary. "Would you like to have a try, m'lady?"

"I daresay I could not do any worse."

"You cannot seduce the Scots from the walls."

"Hugh, you grow tedious."

"Heed me, woman, stay to what you know—murder and the arts of the bedchamber," he hissed. "You know naught of battle, never have, save that it makes your nether eye weep with want. That hulking lump of stone is not just a place to eat and sleep. 'Twas built to resist just such an attack as this, and built with skill and art."

"Then try another form of attack."

"There is this or there is a siege. Do you wish to rest here for months?"

"It would not take months to break them." She looked around with clear distaste.

"Aye, m'lady, it could. We would suffer more than they, for we would be out here with winter closing in upon us. I assure you, they will have ample food and water within those cursed walls. There is no way I can judge how much, how long they could hold out against us. The longer we sat here, the greater the chance that we would meet the other half of their forces. I mean to avoid that."

It galled Lady Mary to do so, but she had to admit that Sir Hugh was right. She had forgotten that the MacLagans were at but half their strength, that the other half of their fighting force was at Athdara and could return at any moment. It was true that she knew little of war and the ways of fighting, but she decided she would learn as soon as possible. Never again would a man talk down to her as Sir Hugh was doing. She would not allow it. It robbed her of some of her power.

"Try not to kill all of our forces in the taking of that place," she said nastily before she moved away, returning to her shaded cart.

Cursing viciously, Sir Hugh watched her go. He realized he had shown her that she had a weakness, and he knew well how she would feel about that. Until he could soothe her ruffled feathers, he would have to watch her closely and eye all he ate with great care. She could easily decide to be rid of him, if only out of spite.

He turned his angry glare toward Caraidland. It and its defenders were proving far stronger that he had thought they would. They had cost him a lot of men, yet he was no closer to victory. If he kept losing men at such a rate, he would soon lose the numerical advantage he had arrived with. He would wait awhile and try again. Let them realize their own exhaustion. Without the stirring effects of battle to keep them going, they would soon feel how weary they were, how weary he knew they had to be. Then he would hit them again. If luck was with him and he timed it right, they would fall to him quickly, for they would not have the strength to repulse him.

Taking a moment from pondering his strategy, he ordered men to go and watch the way to Athdara. It had been unwise to pull the guard from that duty. He could not afford to be caught between two forces. The last thing he needed was some foe coming to strike at his flank.

"What is that whoreson doing now?" asked Colin as he joined Tavis upon the walls.

"Waiting."

"For what?"

"For our weariness to weigh us down, I think."

"Aye, that seems right. We are feeling it right enough."

" 'Tis unfortunate, but I feel the man has some skill. He seems to ken what to do and when to do it." Tavis glanced around at the men slumped along the wall. "They will soon find it hard to lift a sword."

"And that Sassanach bastard will swoop in to see that they ne'er lift another one. It has been a long time since I have faced such as this, and I could have gone to my grave happy without doing so."

Soon Hugh tried again. The MacLagans valiantly fought back the first wave of Englishmen that tried to surge over the walls of Caraidland. It cost them dearly, however. No matter how many Englishmen he took with him, each Scottish life lost brought Caraidland closer to destruction. They no longer had anything to hurl over the walls, could only continue to push the scaling ladders down, but the hands needed to do that grew fewer and fewer.

When Sir Hugh struck after another brief pause Tavis tasted the bitter gall of defeat. The English brought forth a battering ram, the machine well covered. He could almost wish they had chosen one of the many other siege weapons despite how deadly they could be. Scottish arrows were unable to penetrate the thick hide. Over the screams of men and the clang of steel against steel came the constant ominous sound of the battering ram. Unless it was stopped, it would soon break through the gates.

Tavis knew with a cold sense of certainty that they could not stop it. He began to order the men to fall back even as he heard the chilling sound of the thick wood of the gates splintering, accompanied by a cheer of triumph from the attacking forces. The English knew they would soon be victorious.

Storm cried out in surprise when Tavis and two other men suddenly burst into the tower room. She felt her heart enter her throat, for she realized what it meant. Sir Hugh had broken through, his men were taking or had taken the inner bailey. The MacLagans were now down to their final line of defense. The people she had come to like and—she looked at Tavis—love were one step closer to slaughter. She desperately fought a strong urge to weep. The last thing the exhausted men needed was a hysterical woman on their hands.

"Get down with the other women, little one," Tavis ordered, and felt a shaft of pain go through him as he wondered if this was to be the last time that he would ever see her.

"Sweet Jesu," moaned one of the men at the window, "the English dog has fresh troops coming."

"Nay, it cannae be," cried Tavis as he raced to the window, refusing to believe that fate could be so cruel. "Could it be our men returning from Athdara?"

"Frae the south? Nay, 'tis mair Sassanachs. Aye, fresh and hot for battle. Listen tae them."

Having hesitated in obeying Tavis's order to leave, Storm made her way to the window. "Let me have a look. I might know who they are."

Even though he let her through to look out of the window, carefully shielding her body with his own, Tavis said, "I cannae see that ye would ken one I didnae."

"Nay, I suspect ye know most all of the families in the Marches, but there is e'er that chance. Whoe'er it is, he has caused great confusion in Hugh's troops. I can think of none who wear strips of blue, like some lady's favor, upon their arm either." She suddenly paled and clutched Tavis's arm. "The man to the fore. Oh dear sweet God, Lady Mary lied. Look to him, Tavis. 'Tis Papa."

"Sweet Jesu, 'tis Eldon. But does that mean we are to be saved?"

"Do we have to wear these things?" Andrew grumbled as he tied the strip of blue cloth onto his arm. "I feel like some fool of a lovestruck knight parading m'lady's silly favor."

" 'Twould be more foolish for us to ride in there with naught to mark us as not of Hugh's forces." Eldon glared at the light blue cloth upon his arm and then glared at Lord Foster. "Why carry this cloth to battle? Do you mean to have such a pretty shroud?"

"I had no time to unpack the supply cart and it was in there. 'Twas for little Matilda, for a gown."

Looking at all the men wearing the strips of blue, Eldon drawled, "One gown? 'Tis enough for a score of them."

"Well, Matilda is very hard on gowns and she loves blue. Here comes Hadden." He frowned. "He does not come alone, yet does not appear to be a prisoner."

"Hallo, Uncle. I brought some added troops." Hadden grinned as he indicated the dozen men with him.

"Matthew, you old dog." Eldon clapped his old man-at-arms on the back. "A battle wound?"

"Nay." Matthew touched the bandage round his head and explained how he came by the wound. " 'Tis naught. I bandaged it to make it look worse."

"She rescued the heir?"

"Aye, m'lord. I felt 'twas right to aid her. The man didn't deserve the fate Sir Hugh planned for him. He has taken good care of Mistress Storm," he added softly. "Hugh meant to geld the lad. As a fellow man, I could nay stomach it. I also knew the wee lass was safer with them Scots."

Eldon nodded. "It pains me to agree but, aye, she is. I will owe them for this no matter what else has happened. They have kept her alive. How goes the battle?"

"Well," replied Hadden, "if ye wait much longer, Sir Hugh will have rid you of the troublesome MacLagans. They were within one blow of breaking through the gates into the bailey. I think the MacLagans were falling back to the keep."

"That would make it easier for us. With the MacLagans in the keep, we need not fear that one of them could strike one of us down, either by error or out of habit."

"If ye wait, there is no chance that any MacLagan will do aught."

"What do you mean, Matthew?"

"Sir Hugh has cried havoc, m'lord. No mercy. Not e'en for the wee babes. He means to slay every man, woman and child in Caraidland, strip it of all worth and raze it to the ground. If his men break into that keep there will be a bloodfest. He means for only Mistress Storm to walk out of there alive. I have the feeling the MacLagans know it."

"Did he not offer them a chance to yield?"

"Aye, but he only thought to make it easier to kill them all and they know it, I be thinking."

"Tie a piece of blue about your arm," Eldon ordered. "We want no confusion as to what English force we are. Take an extra strip or two for those who may wish to come to our side. Haig, you take some men and be sure that none of Sir Hugh's or Mary's people get away. Drive them toward the MacLagan keep. There is too much to be answered for to allow any of them to escape."

"So we really are to save the MacLagans," Andrew mused as Haig rode with ten men toward Sir Hugh's and Lady Mary's encampment.

"Aye. I will not have murder done in the name of Eldon or Hagaleah. I have ne'er held with the murder or abuse of the innocent. The bastard plots a merciless slaughter and I will stop it, be it MacLagans or nay." He looked around and saw that all the men were ready. "To Caraidland, men. And remember that we fight Sir Hugh and my cursed wife this day, not the Scots. You are not to cut down a MacLagan unless he tries to kill you. For this one time, they are our allies. Now, ride!"

By the time they reached Caraidland, Hugh and his men were inside the bailey. The arrival of Eldon and his men caused a brief hesitation in the battle. An instant later it became clear to Hugh's men that this force of Englishmen was not there to assist them. To add to their dismay, nearly a third of their force changed sides, donning blue ties and turning against their former master, Sir Hugh. The few Scots left in the bailey quickly saw that, in this one instance, Englishmen were going to aid them, and a weak cheer went up amongst their decimated numbers, for they could also see that the tide of battle now turned against Sir Hugh.

Tavis watched the scene below and, slowly, the bitter taste of defeat left his stomach. Sir Hugh was good, but Lord Eldon was better, his skill gained from years of fighting. When so many of Sir Hugh's force rushed to join their liege lord it was more or less a
coup de grace.
Defeat now faced Sir Hugh and had from the moment Eldon had swooped into the bailey. The desertion of so many men simply ensured that the defeat would come more quickly.

He and the other two men raced from the tower room, eager to rejoin the battle. It did not surprise Tavis to find the men who had managed to reach the security of the keep milling about in some confusion. Not only was Eldon supposed to be dead, but it was hard for many to comprehend that he would do anything to help them.

"I cannae see clearly," Colin said as he reached Tavis's side. " 'Tis truly Eldon?"

"Aye. 'Tis Eldon. The man has not only risen from the dead, he has come to our rescue." Tavis laughed with enjoyment and relief. "Tell all the men to strike no man wearing a blue tie upon his arm."

When Tavis reached the bailey he smiled with grim pleasure. Already a number of Sir Hugh's men were yielding. He caught sight of Sir Hugh and raced toward the man. Although he could see that Eldon struggled to get to the man as well, Tavis did not hesitate. It would be courteous to allow Lord Eldon the pleasure of slaying Sir Hugh, but Tavis held too strong an urge for vengeance to be courteous.

Sir Hugh read his death in Tavis MacLagan's eyes. The knowledge that he had lost, especially when he had been so close to victory, enraged Sir Hugh. With a scream of fury, he lunged for Tavis.

The fight was fierce but brief. Tavis's fury was cold, allowing for clear thought and smooth action. Hugh's rage was mindless, lessening his usual skill with a sword. All too soon, as far as their grim-faced audience was concerned, Hugh gave Tavis an opening. In the blinking of an eye, Tavis pondered toying with the sweating, ranting man for a while longer and discarded the idea. He struck, cleanly piercing the man's heart and killing him instantly.