MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Romance: BETRAYED: (New Adult Motorcycle Club Navy SEAL Romance) (Contemporary Military Romance Thriller) (43 page)

"Do you have a decent number of men who are capable of a little hard work with some shovels?" Agnes asked. Faolan seemed to have momentarily frozen in his thought, but Agnes realized that they didn't have time for long preponderances over different courses of action. Therefore, she was going to take charge and help Faolan help himself, because he seemed in need of that sort of intervention.

"Yes. What does that have to do with anything?" Faolan asked, and if Agnes was hallucinating, she could have sworn that she heard a guttural growling noise emerging from Faolan's throat.

"Scotland will attack with cavalry. If you dig a shallow moat around town and put sharpened sticks facing outwards from the mote, then you'll be able to stop them from entering the town on horseback. Sure, that's not going to stop the raid, but it would be an invaluable advantage to have," Agnes replied. Though perhaps she wasn't as smart on the streets, or in her conduct as a refugee, she at least was very learned in books. She had learned this strategy from an old book on Norse battle tactics, and she never actually thought that it would be applicable in any way in her life, other than just a sort of metaphorical sense. Today, that was proven wrong.

Faolan was a bit in shock as he realized that Agnes had actually proposed a great idea, and so he just nodded. "By God, you may be onto something," he said, and ran upstairs. Agnes followed him, and entered the ground floor of the small cottage in which she had been locked up. The place was nice. Everything was tidy, there was the smell of food that had been prepared not too long ago, and the hearth was lit to boil some stew for supper.

              Seeing all this, Agnes assumed that Faolan was a married man, which might have gone some way to explaining why he was so skittish when he reached his hand into Agnes' corset to pull out the documents. Agnes herself wasn't the biggest fan of his decision to do that. Having him invade her space like that was uncomfortable to say the least, but perhaps he was worried that his actions might have been thought of as a betrayal to his wife? That was a romantic notion, at least.

              The woman was nowhere to be seen in the cottage at present, though. She was likely out getting water or milking the cow. Either way, she wasn't present, and so Agnes couldn't relax and ask a few questions about the state of the town or the country without scrutiny. Therefore, she went out in search of Faolan, who had run off in a hurry to recruit citizens to help dig the moat. Though she wasn't as strong of back as the younger boys in the village, Agnes could either help supervise or help dig.

Chapter Three

Once Agnes found Faolan in the streets, she saw he was doing quite an admirable job giving orders, delegating everyone their set tasks. For a moment, she hesitated to interrupt him, because in her mind she had assumed that she would easily be able to take charge in this situation and lead everyone to victory. It was embarrassing to be so consistently wrong about so many things. This was definitely a humbling experience on many levels for her.

Regardless, she did work up the courage to speak with Faolan. " I'm ready to take my orders, sir," she said. Though her fantasies revolved around her helping to lead this rebellion, she knew good and well that Faolan was the one who deserved the job when she saw everyone in town respond to his orders by jumping on the command.

              "You're ready? You should be in my basement," Faolan growled. "What are you doing running around in this confusion?" She was still dressed in a European fashion, and her clothes were suspiciously fine to be a woman of this poor town. Someone would think she was a British woman who had managed to slip in and was preparing to stir up trouble. The possibility was certainly there for that to happen.

              "I told you I wouldn't stay locked up. I want to help," Agnes replied stubbornly.

              "You want to help? Fine. Stay out of the way," Faolan responded, and Agnes just gritted her teeth and dug her heels into the dirt.

              "I'm not going to be ordered into the house, Faolan. I'm going to help you. Honestly, is this how you treat someone who brought you news of the war front that may save your entire town?" she asked.

Faolan just gritted his teeth. She noticed then that he had some unusually large canines, but made no comment on it. Still, they were unsettling. Her mind fancied that canines like those were things that only vampires could boast, yet here Faolan stood in the open sunlight, so he couldn't be any mythical monster of old. Those were only fairy tales, anyways.

"I will dig, if there's no other occupation for me. Or sharpen sticks. Whatever I can put my hands to doing," Agnes said proudly, but then softened her voice a little and added, "Please, Faolan. I didn't come all the way back to Scotland to sit on my rear. If that's all that I wanted to do, I wouldn't have left home."

Faolan let out a sigh at that and nodded. "Very well. Collect the sticks for the pit and sharpen them," he said.

With these orders given, Agnes went out of the town and set her mind to collecting sticks of two or three meters. She would get together a bundle of these sticks and bring them back into town and leave them with some women who were tasked with sharpening them.

Along with Agnes, only a few children were set on the task of getting the sticks, because this was the least labor intensive of the jobs. Still, after ten or more trips out into the woods, Agnes felt her arms and legs ache from the foreign experience of putting in an honest day's work. But she was not done that easily.

Once enough sticks were collected, the women sharpening had still not finished getting all of the branches to a fine point, but Agnes and the children began planting them in the parts of the ditch that had been dug out so far. She and the children made at least twenty trips carefully transporting the sticks, making sure that they did not break off any of the well-chiseled tips in transit.

No sooner did the other workers finish in their labors than did Agnes and the children manage to make their last trip, and they carefully planted these spikes just like they had the hundreds before. Though their limbs were exhausted and screaming to be left alone, and though they just wanted to rest, they finished planting the spikes before they returned inside the walls of the town.

At least at this point, Faolan no longer had to worry about Agnes making the townspeople suspicious with her appearance. Perhaps she was a lot curvier because of the better diet she could afford to consume, so she was still an anomaly in that regard. However, no one's head would be turned because of her outfit after the day's work she put in going out into the woods.

She shuffled back to the old inn that was close to the entrance and asked if she could still have her room. The inn keeper, the old network of wrinkles and creases that she was, still managed to smile at the question.

"Go ahead. You have earned it," she replied. The amount of work that Agnes did for the town did not go unnoted in the eyes of the townsfolk. She worked as hard as anyone to protect a town that she had just come to, despite being actively discouraged by Faolan.

Given that permission, Agnes went upstairs to lay down her head, and no sooner than that, she was asleep. The nerves for the upcoming battle the next day made her sleep a light and fitful one, however, and when the slightest amount of light entered her room, she got up and set off for the day.

Chapter Four

It was just barely dawn when Agnes left the inn. Not even the old keeper was at her desk yet, and when Agnes left the quaint little place, she saw that the rest of the town seemed to still be asleep, barring only a few sentries who were on the lookout.

Regardless of whether or not Faolan might still be asleep, Agnes made her way to his cottage and entered the abode. An older woman, perhaps in her mid-40s, sat at the hearth. She was just lighting it to start the day's cooking when she turned up and smiled at Agnes in greeting.

"Well, young miss. If we survive today, I'll greet you as our hero, but today I will just be calling you young miss, if that's okay," she said.

Agnes smiled at the woman and nodded. "Whatever you'd like to call me, as long as it isn't an insult, is fine by me. Is Faolan here?" she asked.

"What do you want to talk with my boy at this hour of the morning for?" the woman asked. She must have been Faolan's mother. She did bear a striking resemblance to him, both in her curly and wild hair and her rather tall build. Other than that, she was a delicate looking woman, though she'd obviously worked hard for most of her life. Her skin was tanned and dry, cracking at the elbows and at the joints in her hand. She had labored in her life, that was for certain. Yet, her green eyes and honest smile made her beautiful regardless of that. If only Faolan had such a warm and inviting smile.

"I would like to know what his plans are for the upcoming battle," Agnes replied.

"And why do you worry your head over that, m'dear?" the woman asked in a soft tone and continued to tend to her hearth. The flames were just beginning to bud amongst the logs and the dry leaves. At this period, much like a baby, the flames needed tender care and constant supervision to survive.

Agnes was a bit dumbstruck by the question momentarily. "Are you worried that too many people will question Faolan today?" Agnes asked, trying to pinpoint the reason for the bizarre question.

"No, young miss. I asked the question because you would do better the see what you can help others around the town with rather than meddling in the men's affairs," the woman replied.

"Meddling? Ma'am, it is for my meddling that your town got the warning about the attack planned on your borders today. It is for my meddling that we have a spiked fence around the town. My meddling, it seems to me, brings about more good than would me walking aimlessly around town, offering whatever strength I can to help others," Agnes replied, a little indignant fire burning within her in response to the implied insult that she was incapable of being a part of the "men's" discussion on battle tactics.

This brazenness coming from a young woman surprised Faolan's mother. She didn't say anything at first, giving Agnes a bewildered look before she tended to her fire for a moment. "I guess they don't teach you noble women too much about manners. Then again, no one would have to, because you don't have to worry about offending anyone. You're above everyone else, after all,"

Agnes felt somewhat bad for what she had said now. Though she believed she had every right to be a part of whatever ragtag war council that the town could throw together, yelling at Faolan's mom was unconscionable.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. I've traveled so far, and been the victim of a great deal of hardship recently. I didn't mean what I said," Agnes said softly, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Well, I can understand that you're under stress. I think everyone is right now," she replied softly. "Faolan should be downstairs. I got him up not too long ago, and he gathered some of his friends over to discuss plans. I have no idea if you'll even be welcomed to join the conversation, but there isn't any harm in trying."

Agnes went downstairs as per the instructions of Faolan's mother, and sure enough there were about five men, Faolan included, all discussing things in a sluggish, clearly sleep-deprived manner over the dim lighting of the oil lamp.

Upon her arrival, Faolan was the first to look up and notice Agnes, but he was not the first to speak. She could tell that Faolan didn't seem to really know what to say. One of his compatriots who noticed him looking up, however, had a few things to say.

"What are you doing down here? Don't you know we're discussing strategy, woman? Or are you trying to spy for the enemy?" the man asked, glaring down at Agnes. She was deeply insulted by all the insults levied against her because of her gender, but she pretended as though she were unfazed as she calmly approached the table. Once she was no more than five paces away, she spoke up.

"My name is Agnes Levin, and I'm the reason that you know about the impending attack. I'm also the reason your village is defended with the spike pit now," Agnes replied confidently.

"Oh? Did you dig the moat, find and sharpen the sticks, and place them? Because last time I checked, the whole town came together building that ditch," the man asked, and he seemed like he was going to continue when Faolan stopped him short.

"Perhaps she is a woman, but she's a damn intelligent one. I want her on our side, because she's proven herself to be quite capable. Agnes, we don't have an extra chair, but I'm sure Jerry will give you his seat. After all, he couldn't sit while a lady had to stand," Faolan said, his attention focusing on the man who was just berating Agnes.

Jerry mumbled and grumbled and protested, but eventually he did relinquish his seat to Anges, and she sat down, smoothing down her ruined skirt and folding her hands on the table.

"We have scouts who report that the English are coming by a road that will lead them to the east of our town. That's not a big deal, considering the defenses lined up around the outside wall of the town. But perhaps we should also consider evacuating that side of town and taking everyone to the church to hide in," Faolan suggested. His plan was relatively sound--though it was very predictable.             

Depending on the size, layout, and fortitude of the castle, lying in wait there may be an efficient solution to the problem. Agnes thought this at least, but several complaints were raised about the castle not being big enough to house everyone, nor was it capable of withstanding a protracted war.

"I can protect the church by myself. There's no worry of being overwhelmed once we're inside," Faolan said, his face turning red in anger at the group disagreeing with his plan.

"No, Faolan. You could take on any man in combat, but if they start hurling cannonballs for direction, or they just decide to lay siege to our town while we're all holed up in a castle, where would that leave us?" one man demanded. This did cool down Faolan's temper slightly, but Agnes could tell he was still definitely upset.

"Perhaps Faolan has an idea that just needs further refined, here," Agnes spoke up. All but Faolan rolled their eyes at her voicing her thoughts on the matter, but as long as Faolan seemed receptive, she didn't need anything else. "How many houses have basements dug out like this?" Agnes asked.

"Several places do. The pub, the inn, my house, and a few other houses. I would say maybe five major places in town have this underground area," Faolan replied.

"Good. Then if we could convince the entire town to hole up in just these underground spaces and let what Englishmen in who can pass the trap, they will think that we've all absconded. Instead, they will be surprised when we emerge and attack against all expectations," Agnes proposed. Faolan was yet again amazed.

Faolan stood up and turned to his compatriots. "Spread the word. Everyone below ground--now! We want to make the bloody Brits think that we just set that trap for them and ran for our lives," Faolan said, and though his men weren't happy about following an order that was ultimately from a woman, none dared to argue with Faolan. So, the order was carried out, and everyone in the town abandoned what they were doing for a subterranean hiding place instead.