His Bonnie Bride

by Hannah Howell

  "Why did ye do that?"

  Glancing at the wounded young man, Tavis frowned. "I dinnae ken. I looked into the man's face and ..." He shook his head. "I dinnae ken. I saw his fear ... I ..."

  The young man nodded before Tavis finished stumbling through his disjointed explanation. "Ye cannae look at them. It isnae like wielding a sword, with the blood lust in your veins. Ye maun ne'er look. Just push." The young man's eyes closed and he groaned softly.

  Yelling to a few men, Tavis soon had the weak spot covered. He put an arm under the wounded man's arms and nearly carried him into the hall. Upon entering the hall, he nearly screamed with frustration.

  There were too many wounded. He knew there would soon be more weak spots along the wall than men able to fill them.

  Storm was told that another wounded man had been brought in and hurried to lay out a pallet for him, a blanket all they had left to use. She did not realize Tavis was the one aiding the hurt man until she had spread out the blanket and looked up to see if she could help to lay the wounded youth down. For a long moment her gaze devoured the sight of his begrimed face as her mind reveled in this proof that he was still hale. It was another moment before she realized that the wounded young man was Jeanne's betrothed.

  "How goes it?" she asked Tavis after calling for Jeanne and starting to cut away the blood-stained tunic young Robbie wore.

  " 'Tis hard to say," he answered with a weary honesty. "So many wounded, yet the scaling ladders still clatter against our walls."

  "But Hugh is upon none of them."

  "Nay. The bastard rides about at a safe distance and drives his men on. I cannae help but think that if we could cut the whoreson down, it would end this attack."

  "Aye, I think it would, and mayhaps he does too. 'Tis mayhaps why he stays away." She grimaced, hating to say anything that might be seen as even remotely favorable to Sir Hugh. "He is a low piece of scum, but I have ne'er noted that he suffered from cowardice."

  "Nay, I dinnae feel he is a coward either. He cares little for his men's lives, though, simply keeps hurling them at our walls. Och, weel, I should be grateful that he has not the weaponry to hurl anything else at us." He shook his head as Jeanne arrived, and Storm let her take over the care of Robbie. "We hold, but 'tis all we do."

  " 'Tis enough, is it not?" Storm moved to stand before him, as worried about possible defeat as he.

  "Aye, if we can keep holding, but"—he looked again at the many wounded, few of them able to be patched up and quickly returned to battle—"I fear there will soon be more weak spots upon the wall than we have men to fill them."

  "An I go to him ..." she began, still hoping that there would be some way to stop what was happening.

  "Nay." He gently gripped her shoulders. "Nay, little one. 'Tis more than ye being bickered over now and all ken it, e'en ye. He means to end the clan. When he cried that he would bring Caraidland down about Father's ears, that he would see us all dead, he didnae boast, nay, nor make an idle threat. He but spoke the truth, a truth we all kenned ere he put it into words. For mayhaps the first time in his life, Sir Hugh spoke honestly. E'en had we been fool enough to agree to his terms of surrender, he would have slain us all. Ye are the only one he means to keep alive. We fight for our very existence, for the survival of the clan.

  "Do ye ken? For a while I faulted meself for all o' this. An I had let ye be, mayhaps none o' this would have occurred. But, nay, I ken it would have. We would have raided Hagaleah again and brought him to our gates. 'Tis better to have brought it on because a fair wee lass than for a herd of cattle or a few mares."

  "He is mad, I think."

  "Near to, mayhaps. Mayhaps 'tis the pair o' them, he and Lady Mary. She, too, is the sort to demand such a vengeance. I maun get back to the walls." He pulled her into his arms, caring nothing about their audience, although almost everyone in the hall was too busy to be interested. "Say it again, Storm." He kissed her and whispered, "Say it again. I find I have a craving to hear the words."

  "I love ye," she said softly, coloring deeply but unable to refuse him his request. " 'Til the sun ceases to rise of a morn and beyond."

  He said nothing, simply kissed her fiercely and left. She stared after him, wondering if it meant that much that he liked to hear her speak of her love. Shaking her head, she returned to the grisly, sad work of tending the wounded that continued to flow into the hall. For now it would be enough that her admission had not pushed him away from her as she had feared it might. Later, and she refused to think that there could be no later, she would find out what his liking of the words meant to her.

  The sun was nearly at its apex in the sky before Sir Hugh allowed his troops to draw back long enough to allow Caraidland any rest. Tavis sank down to sit where he had stood. The air carried the smell of blood and death. He felt that he did too. When Phelan paused by him with the water Tavis poured a dipperful over his head before taking a long drink.

  "There will be a lot of widows and orphans at Hagaleah," Phelan said softly as he peered over the walls and viewed the dead and dying strewn over the land.

  "Aye. This is a costly way to do battle, a bloody waste of good fighting men. The attackers must toss away many a life to end that o' but one o' those upon the walls. That is why Eldon e'er preferred an acre fight. He didnae see his men as naught but fodder for Scots' arrows and swords. He would ne'er have wasted lives so."

  "Nay. He cared about the welfare of e'en the lowest peasant." Phelan smiled sadly. "For all he bellowed and cursed. It grieves me sorely that I could not know him longer and better."

  "Aye. He was the best of enemies."

  "And Sir Hugh is the worst."

  "Aye, laddie. The worst. His word isnae e'en worth spitting on. He will slaughter the bairns at their mother's breast and think naught of it. I wonder what fool knighted him."

  "He saved the life of an important man. I think there was little choice. There had to be a reward."

  "True. Such a thing cannae be ignored. 'Twould be a black deed, blacker than the knighting of a man like Sir Hugh."

  "Can Sir Hugh win?" Phelan asked softly.

  "I fear he can, laddie. We ready ourselves e'en now to fall back to the keep, to give up the outer wall and the bailey. Some of the bairns were slinked away out o' the tunnel, but we daren't move too many or 'twould be seen and all lost. We cannae hold against many more attacks. Too many wounded, though, by God's sweet grace, few dead yet." He grimaced. "Mayhaps 'twould be best if they were dying upon the walls. If Caraidland falls, I think Sir Hugh willnae kill us all with any mercy."

  "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 Mac
Lagans."

  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?"

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  "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!"