Medieval Ever After (128 page)

Under Garrick’s command, the castle’s bowmen readjusted their aim to the men swarming around the castle’s base and those clinging to their makeshift rafts.

“That’s it, men!” Garrick shouted as arrows began finding their marks in the Englishmen within closer range. Garrick himself nocked an arrow and let it fly at one of the heavily-laden rafts about halfway to the castle. His first arrow pierced a soldier’s chainmail in the shoulder, knocking him off balance. The man flailed for a moment, then tipped backward into the loch, the weight of his armor drawing him down instantly.

“We need to gather the rest of the men and prepare them if the castle’s walls or gates are breached,” Daniel said to Robert, turning his attention away from Garrick.

“I’ll get the Highlanders in order if you can organize the castle’s men,” Robert replied. Then suddenly his face tightened. “The women.”

Burke stepped next to them on the battlement, his face taking on the same fraught expression as Robert’s. Daniel realized that both men, and likely Garrick too, longed to see their wives, but at the same time the battle lust ran too hot in their blood. If Rona were in the castle’s tower, Daniel knew that if he went to her, he would never return to the battle, so strong would be his desire to stay with her.

“I’ll see to them,” Daniel said. “Burke, gather the castle’s men in the yard. They’ve trained for this. They only need to be led.”

Waiting only for a nod from Burke, Daniel turned and launched himself down the stairs and into the yard. He sprinted to the tower keep and threw open the doors leading to the great hall. In a flash, he reached the stairs and took them three at a time. He didn’t pause to check the lower chambers. The safest place for the women was in the highest room in the tower.

He slammed his shoulder into the wooden door at the top of the stairs, but it didn’t budge.

“Jossalyn! Alwin, Meredith! It’s Daniel!” he shouted through the thick wood.

He heard two sets of grunts and a scraping noise as they moved the crossbeam off the door’s interior. Then the door swung open. Alwin paced back and forth across the chamber, holding a crying Jane to her chest. Meredith had her hands squeezed together, her fingers interlocked and turning white from the strain.

“Did you all make it back safely?” Jossalyn blurted out as Daniel stepped into the chamber.

“Aye, Garrick, Robert, and Burke are with the men below,” he said quickly. All three visibly relaxed at that, but then Alwin paused in her pacing, gently bouncing Jane to soothe her.

“Where is Rona?” she said, the waver in her voice belying her smooth features.

“She is safe. We left her with trusted friends on the far side of the loch.”

“And…and my brother?” Jossalyn’s mouth tightened, but she held Daniel’s gaze.

Daniel’s hands clenched into fists. “Dead.”

Jossalyn exhaled and gave a little nod. Her eyes drifted to the floor. “How?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Daniel asked, watching her closely.

“Yes,” Jossalyn replied. Her voice was quiet but level. “He is—was the last of my blood family.”

“Forgive me for saying this, then,” Daniel said, “but I wish it could have been me who ended his life. In fact, I think Robert, Burke, and Garrick all wish the same.”

Jossalyn’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “None of you killed him? I thought you said—”

“He drew a blade across his own throat,” Daniel said quietly.

An uneasy silence, broken only by little Jane’s whimpers, fell over the room.

“I think we all felt a bit cheated,” Daniel said after a moment. “Each of us believed we were justified in bringing Warren to his reckoning. Even in death, he made one last power play against us. But…”

Suddenly the memory of Rona standing over a cowering Warren came back to him.

None of them will kill you, because I already have!

“But what?” Jossalyn said.

“Rona said she bit Warren’s cheek. His face was mangled by a festering wound…”

“Was it oozing?” Jossalyn asked, her attention suddenly sharpened.

“Aye, and there were red tendrils shooting from the wound down his neck and across the rest of his face. His eye was also red and swollen.”

“Blood poisoning,” Jossalyn said almost to herself. “What else? Was he feverish?”

Daniel thought back to the scene in Warren’s chamber again. “Aye. He shook and sweated and seemed to grow weaker by the second.”

Jossalyn shook her head in amazement.

“Then perhaps Rona is responsible for his death after all. He likely would have died from the fever and the blood poisoning quickly, if my guess is right.”

“That’s some consolation, I suppose,” Daniel said.

“I don’t think you understand,” Jossalyn went on. “My brother was terrified of disease and illness. He hated me for coming in contact with the sick. It’s also one of the reasons he hated Scotland and its people so much—he saw the Scottish as a disease of sorts that would infect the English with chaos and savagery. He thought it was his task to purify Scotland—to cleanse it for England’s use.” She shook her head sadly. “So you see, his end was fitting and deserved. He got his reckoning.”

Something shifted in the back of Daniel’s mind at Jossalyn’s words. Though they had watched the lifeblood drain from Warren, his death had felt incomplete until now. But Jossalyn’s insights closed the door that had been left ajar regarding Warren. The man had gotten his due and now faced his judgment.

Alwin began pacing with Jane, drawing his mind back to the situation at hand.

“There must be something useful for us to do besides lock ourselves away in the tower,” she said, her eyes searching the air. “Let us help.”

“Nay,” Daniel said, shaking his head firmly. “If any of you were hurt moving about the castle while we’re under attack—”

“You really think you can stop us from helping?” Alwin said, halting and leveling him with a sharp stare.

Bloody hell, they were worse than Rona! Daniel rubbed the back of his stiff neck with one hand. He didn’t have the strength or energy to fight them. He needed to get back to the men.

“What did you have in mind?” he said wearily.

“I can see to the wounded,” Jossalyn said.

“And Meredith and I can secure the tower in case the walls are breached. The household staff is running around madly without any direction. And the windows could be secured…” Alwin tapped a finger against her lips in thought.

“None of you can be in harm’s way,” Daniel said firmly, but he knew he had lost this battle.

“I’ll set up a station for the wounded in the great hall. If need be, we’ll seal the doors,” Jossalyn offered.

“And we’ll all stay inside the tower,” Alwin said.

Daniel nodded. “Work swiftly and hold fast. This could last a while.”

“How long can we hold out?” Meredith asked quietly.

Daniel scrubbed a hand over his face, giving himself a moment to answer.

“We have no shortage of water, which is most important,” he said. “And the castle’s storeroom is well-stocked.”

The grim faces staring back at him told him that his words did little to ease their worries.

“Robert the Bruce and his army are on their way,” he went on, more serious. “The good news is, they are only a few days north of us.”

“And the bad news?” Alwin said levelly.

“The bad news is, the castle may be breached before then.”

HIGHLANDER’S RECKONING

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

After the first
few hours, Bella refused to be urged into a gallop, no matter how much Rona coaxed her or let her rest between stretches. Rona longed to scream in frustration, to dismount and sprint as fast as she could toward the Bruce, wherever he was. But she knew that Bella’s steady pace would get her there faster than anything else. So she remained in the saddle, gritting her teeth impatiently.

The sun sloped toward the hills in the west, but still she rode on, only stopping to let Bella rest or to see to her own most basic needs. She allowed herself to sleep for a few hours in the middle of the night, wrapped tightly in Daniel’s plaid, which still carried the faint trace of his scent. She forced herself to eat and drink to keep her strength up, but she was so anxious that she took no joy in it. The night stretched grimly, the sounds of the forest echoing around her.

It wasn’t until the cool, damp early morning that she gave serious thought to how she would find Robert the Bruce and his army. She knew they were approaching from the north, and that they were at least a two days’ march away. She was traveling much faster than an army could move, so she suspected she was drawing close to them in the north. But she didn’t know exactly how she would locate them. They shouldn’t be that hard to find, she reassured herself. They were a large army, after all.

The fog that had settled in the forest overnight wasn’t helping matters, though. The mist obscured the sun and created a gloomy, sourceless light in the trees around her. When she guessed it was close to midmorning, she slowed Bella to a walk and sharpened her eyes on her surroundings. Perhaps she would see a trace of the army that would help her find them.

The forest was quiet and still around her, the fog dampening the normal sounds of the woods. She glanced at the ground, but no human or horse tracks were visible. The trees turned hazy a mere dozen yards in front of her, and beyond that they were completely swallowed by the fog.

A rustle in the underbrush to her right had her jerking her head around with a start. It was likely just a rabbit or some other small creature, she told herself, forcibly taking a deep breath. She nudged Bella with her heels, praying she was still travelling roughly northward.

“Stop there, lass.”

The voice was so close that a cry of surprise rose in her throat. Bella, spooked by the sound and by Rona’s involuntary tug on the reins, whinnied and would have bolted forward if a man hadn’t stepped out of the mist directly in front of her.

Another scream rose in her throat, and she yanked Bella’s reins hard to the left. Bella would have gladly obliged, but another man emerged from the fog, flanking them. Rona’s eyes flashed between the two men. The first one gripped a bow and nocked arrow, though the arrow was lowered away from her, and the second had an undrawn sword on his hip.

On his
kilted
hip.

Both men wore plaids of blue-green around their waists, with an extra length thrown over one shoulder, just as Daniel and his family did.

The panic began to drain from her, but she eyed them warily, keeping a firm grip on Bella’s reins.

“You’re Highlanders,” she said cautiously.

The first man loosened the tension on his bowstring and stood straighter. Rona hadn’t even realized he’d been slightly crouched and ready to either attack or defend himself.

“And you’re a Lowlander judging by your voice,” he said just as guardedly, “though your plaid says otherwise.” He studied her with dark, sharp eyes.

Her overwhelmed brain registered the thicker brogue of the man who’d just spoken, and she remembered that she must sound almost-English to them.

“I…I am a friend. I seek someone we may both know,” Rona said, thinking fast. What else would a pair of Highlanders be doing in the Lowland woods just north of Loch Doon? These must be Robert the Bruce’s men.