by Lynsay Sands
Shouting an explanation, Iliana hurried down the stairs with Elgin on her heels. Reaching the front doors of the keep, she pushed through them, then froze. Burning debris was strewn about the bailey, threatening to set fire to the many cottages within the wall. Women and children of all ages were running this way and that, attempting to douse the fire with whatever they could find.
"My God."
Glancing over her shoulder at her mother's whisper, Iliana saw that all of the women had followed, and were now crowded behind her and Elgin on the top step. She was about to order them back into the keep when the cook pointed past her.
"The stables!"
Even as she turned back, Iliana could hear the frightened whinnies of the animals within the stables. It was aflame. Cursing, she started down the steps, intent on rescuing the few animals that had remained behind when Duncan had marched out. There had only been a dozen or so left behind, but most of those were ponies and pregnant mares who were near their foaling.
She was barely halfway to the building when the next fireball came over the wall. Staggering to a halt, she shouted a warning and waited to see which way the missile would go. It seemed to be one large ball of flames at first; then she realized that it was actually a collection of debris that had been set alight and shot over as one. As it came down the pieces separated, spanning a large section of the bailey as it flew in every direction.
Iliana's shout was taken up by the others, becoming one panicked cry as the women and children began to scatter, fleeing the fiery rain of debris. Iliana herself leapt to the side to avoid one falling shard, only to step into the path of another. She stumbled when it struck her shoulder but kept her feet. Brushing at her arm to be sure that her gown had not caught flame, she glanced behind her, relieved to see that, while Elgin had followed her, he was unharmed.
"Tend to the horses!" she yelled above the shrieks filling the bailey, then hurried to the nearest victim of the flaming debris. Helping the woman to her feet, Iliana glanced at her mother with surprise when she was suddenly there, tending to the woman's burns.
"Take her into the keep and stay there," Iliana ordered, pushing them in that general direction. "We must get them all to the keep," she shouted to the others, who were trying to douse the flames.
"They will not go." Janna approached her. "These are their homes they try to save."
"Their homes will do them little good if they are not alive to enjoy them," Iliana snapped impatiently.
"Then you'd best get up on the wall and see what you can do."
"Do?" Iliana peered at her as if she thought her mad, and Janna nodded.
"They tried this same tactic in Lady Agnes's day."
"Lady Agnes," Iliana sighed the name. Giorsal had used the woman often against her when she had first arrived here. Black Agnes had been able to hold the keep against the English for six months in her husband's absence. "What did she do?"
"Giorsal told us that, after each volley, she distracted them with insults and curses while the women rushed about, dusting up the fire."
"Insults?" She looked doubtful, but Janna nodded.
"And curses, me lady."
"I see." She peered at the flames the women were hurriedly trying to put out, then whirled away, hurrying to the wall.
"Me lady!" Rabbie's relief at seeing her would have been gratifying if Iliana had not felt so incapable of managing this mess. 'Twas obvious she was the only one who seemed to realize how inadequate she was to the task.
Forcing a somewhat stiff smile for the man, Iliana took in the fact that he and the other remaining men were all busily shooting arrows down at the men on the other side of the wall. For all the good it appeared to be doing. Moving to the wall as he turned back to continue shooting his arrows, she leaned through an opening and peered down at the men below. The mangonel was positioned at the base of the causeway, directly across the moat. She supposed Greenweld had positioned it close by so that he could get maximum range into the keep. It might as well have been on the other side of the forest, for it was surrounded by men bearing shields. Even now they were preparing another ball of fire.
Iliana took in the collection of debris they were preparing to light. A glance back at the bailey showed women hurrying this way and that. Turning back, she shouted for Greenweld.
One of the figures disengaged himself from the crowd of men about the catapult and moved to stand behind the barrier of shields to peer up. "Would that be my sniveling brat of a daughter?" he bellowed.
"I'm no daughter of the devil!" she snapped. "But you, sir, are a coward."
"Coward, is it?"
"Aye! Only a coward would force a woman to marry him, then beat her near to death! And only a coward would sneak up on his adversary as you have done!"
"'Tis not my fault your husband left you unprotected." His words made Iliana's gaze narrow, but before she could ponder them he roared, "Give her to me, brat!"
"Lady Dunbar to you...you pig!" Not very impressive, she decided glumly.
"Send her out! She is my wife by law. You cannot refuse me!"
"She is my mother. I cannot agree. Besides, I do not know that she is your wife any longer. The annulment may already be complete."
Furious, Greenweld turned to yell at one of the men beside him, and an arrow came shooting toward her. Iliana instinctively thrust herself to the side, heart pounding as she heard the missile hiss by.
"You bastard!"
Iliana whirled back to the wall at that, gaping at her mother as she bellowed down at the men below. She had not even heard her join them on the wall. Neither had she ever heard her speak so.
"Turning your weapons on a female! Fie! Have you no shame at all?"
"Ah, my stubborn, shrewish wife."
"Not for long! Mayhap not even now!"
Since it was the same taunt Iliana had cast and earned an arrow for, she knew instinctively that he would take it no better from her mother. Muttering under her breath, Iliana tugged her to the side just in time. A second arrow whizzed past them both.
"Mother, I am supposed to be taunting him."
Lady Wildwood gave a breathless laugh and brushed the hair back from her face. "That was close, was it not? My, I must say it feels good to speak my mind to the beast."
Rolling her eyes, Iliana turned back to the wall and chanced a quick peek down. Greenweld was gesturing at the man with the torch. Even as she watched, the soldier set the debris ablaze. Cursing, she straightened and turned back toward the bailey, shouting a warning to the other women. When they immediately began fleeing for cover, her gaze slid to the stables. It was engulfed in flames. "Did Elgin get the horses out?"
"Aye. He took them around behind the kitchen. They should be safe there."
"Behind the kitchen? Not through my garden!" The words had barely left her mouth when she heard the catapult being released. Grabbing her mother, she jerked her back against the outer wall. A split second later another fireball passed overhead.
Iliana hurried to look down at the bailey the moment the danger had passed. Assured that no one had been harmed by the latest missile, she moved back to peer at the army outside. The arm of the catapult was back in place and already half-loaded in preparation for another shot, she saw with dismay.
"He will continue to pummel us with fire until Dunbar is a pile of ashes," her mother predicted grimly, balancing herself on Iliana's back with one hand as she leaned up to peer over her.
"Then we shall have to destroy the catapult," Iliana decided, straightening now and moving out of harm's way behind the wall.
"And how will we manage that?" Lady Wildwood asked dubiously.
"I ordered the women not to leave you alone. How is it you come to be up here without at least two of them trailing you?"
"They were busy. And you still have not said how you plan to destroy the catapult."
Grimacing, Iliana glanced down at the bailey again. The stables were merely a pile of glowing embers now. They would never house horses
again. She supposed the building had been rather old. That was the only reason she could think of for it to burn so quickly. It was not as if it had been doused with whiskey first, as the bedchamber had been ere it was set alight.
"Rabbie." She straightened abruptly.
"Aye, me lady?"
"I need some uisgebeatha."
His eyebrows rose at that, but he moved past her and bent to retrieve a pitcher that she had not noticed sitting next to the wall. "It kept the nip off during the night," he explained when she raised her eyebrows.
Lifting it to her nose, Iliana sniffed the contents, then glanced at him. "Do you suppose Laird Angus has a lot of this?"
He pursed his lips. "Well, that would depend on how much ye thought was a lot."
Iliana turned to peer down at the catapult again before answering, "As much as you can bring me. All of it."
"All of it?" He goggled at her, then narrowed his eyes unhappily. This wouldn't have something to do with another one of theose plans of yours, would it?"
"Buck up, sir," Lady Wildwood said cheerfully. "My daughter's last plan worked."
"Oh, aye I worked a'right. But it cost us our supper...Now she's wantin' the uisgebeatha."
Chapter Twenty
"Do you understand what I want you to do?"
Rabbie nodded morosely. "Aye. But 'tis a fair waste o' good whiskey if it doesn't work."
"Then we must pray that it works," Iliana commented dryly, peering at the people lined up before her. Eight women and eight men. The women had resented being pulled away from the task of dousing fires below, until she had explained that she hoped that her plan would put an end to the volley of fireballs that continued to whiz over the wall. They had settled in to help with a small measure of contentment then. Ripping the linen Iliana had sent for into strips, they had wrapped them around the tips of arrows, then set them to soak in the half-empty barrel of whiskey she had had Rabbie split open for them.
Now the women waited by the barrel of soaking arrows, lit torches in hand, while the men stood by the eight barrels of whiskey that Rabbie had found.
"All right. Remember, you must try to get them as far as possible as quickly as possible," she reminded them once again, then leaned to the wall to see what Greenweld's men were doing. Seeing that they were about to light yet another fireball, she told the people on the wall to get ready, then shouted a warning to those below.
The people on the battlement pressed themselves close to the wall just as the fireball flew over, then hurried back to their places. The men rushed to the barrels. Working in twos, the four pairs picked up a barrel each and hurled them over in unison before rushing back to get their second. The women moved to the arrows then, each of them grabbing up a whiskey soaked weapon in their free hand and moving to the men's sides as they hurled the last barrels over.
Assured that they were doing exactly as she had instructed, Iliana moved to the wall to peer down at the Englishmen. They seemed quite confused by this turn of events. Four barrels of Scottish liquor had just flown off the wall and crashed on the half-built causeway, splashing every which way, and soaking a lot of the men as well as the catapult. Even now, another four were tumbling through the air. It was obvious that her fellow countrymen did not know what to make of it. But then, doubtless they did not know what she had learned by accident. Uisgebeatha was like food for a fire.
Glancing over her shoulder at her own people again, she saw that the men had split up to their individual slots and were even now loading their bows with the arrows the women handed them. Once that was done, the women each used the torches they held to spark the whiskey-soaked cloth tips to life. The men turned, aimed, and fired.
Iliana turned to peer below again. She had been very specific about where to aim the arrows. Four of the men were to shoot at the catapult, two at the causeway, and two at the barricade of shields, which she had hoped might get splashed. Her men were right on target. The first arrow hit the causeway, and even she was startled at the way it burst into flames, the fire splashing outward just as the whiskey had done before it, following its trail. The other arrows seemed to hit all at once, sparking the catapult and the men's shields at the same time. The whole area burst into flames with a whoosh.
Swallowing, Iliana peered at the catapult again, sighing when she saw that it was now gloriously ablaze. Hearing the people along the wall begin to cheer, she straightened and turned toward the stairs wearily.
"Watch them, Rabbie. Do they do anything else, fetch me. The rest of you get below and help put out the fires," she ordered without looking back. The Scots all fell silent at that, peering worriedly at her slumped shoulders before moving to follow her instructions.
When she reached Angus's room, Iliana found her mother and Janna already there, doing their best to hold the old warrior down in his bed.
"Nay. You will not get up," her mother was arguing as Iliana entered.
"Aye," Janna panted, pressing down hard on his uninjured shoulder in an attempt to keep him down. "Ye've been sore injured."
"'Tis naught but a scratch, woman. Let me up." When that had no effect on Iliana's mother, he turned to glare at Janna. "I am yer laird!" he pointed out on an outraged roar.
The maid hesitated at that, then shook her head. "Nay. Ye said Lady Iliana was in charge until ye recovered. Yer not recovered."
He opened his mouth to blast the poor woman for that, then spied Iliana. "Lass! There ye are. Tell these harpies to let me up."
Iliana smiled slightly at his pleading expression and moved to the bedside to peer down at him, taking in the angry red in his cheeks. "You are feeling better then?"
"Aye."
Reaching out, she felt his forehead, relieved to find that fever was not the reason behind his new color.
"Good," she announced abruptly, gesturing to Janna and her mother to leave him be. Janna moved away from the bed at once, but Lady Wildwood hesitated.
"He should not be up yet. He needs rest to heal properly."
"He will rest. We will not let him do anything strenuous, but he can sit below and give orders now."
Her mother relaxed at that while Angus stiffened.
"I am laird here, lass. I'll decide what I can or cannot do." He shifted his legs over the side of the bed and stood abruptly, then paled and swayed sickly on his feet.
Iliana reached out to steady him at once.
Grabbing her hand gratefully, he sank back onto the side of the bed again. "Well, mayhap I shall take it a bit easy." Even saying that made him grimace with distaste. Frowning, he speared Iliana with a look. "Yer mother told me o' yer plan with the uisgebeatha. Did it work?"
She nodded solemnly. "The causeway and catapult are ablaze. Rabbie is watching to see what they try next. I told him to call me if they did anything."
"Good." He nodded solemnly. "And the messenger?"
"You were asleep when I returned. Gertie was to tell you that he was missing."
"Missing?" Janna asked with obvious surprise.
"Aye. He must have slipped out ere the gate was closed."
"Nay." She shook her head firmly. "He was abed after we brought the laird up here. I checked on him myself."
"He was not there yester eve when I looked."
Janna frowned at that, as did Angus.
"Go check on him again. If he is not there, post guards and start a search," he ordered.
Nodding, Iliana turned toward the door. Janna started to follow her, then hesitated and glanced toward Lady Wildwood, then Angus.
"Go with her," Angus waved her away. "I'll keep an eye on Lady Wildwood."
Iliana's mother scowled at that, then smiled sweetly. "Aye, and I shall be sure he does not overdo."
Shaking her head at the war of wills that was about to play out between the older couple, Iliana led the servant out of the chamber and down the hall to the room the messenger had been given. She truly did not expect him to be there, so when she opened the door and stepped inside to see him lying in the bed,
apparently sound asleep, she stopped abruptly and frowned.
"See," Janna whispered. "Mayhap in all the excitement ye peered into the wrong chamber."
"Nay. 'Twas this chamber." Shifting her feet, she glanced around the room, looking for any sign that might prove he had not been here the last time she had looked, but there was nothing. Peering at his face again, she shook her head and stepped back out of the room, pulling the door quietly closed.
"Mayhap he went in search of the privy," Janna suggested.
"Aye, mayhap, but..."
The woman raised her eyebrows at Iliana's hesitation. "But?"
"There are a couple of things bothering me just now." Iliana sighed. "It probably means nothing...but I shall tell you anyway. This morn, when the attack started, Elgin came to fetch me."
"Aye?"
"Well...you remember the night I was attacked?"
The woman nodded, shuddering. "Laird Angus said 'twas a mighty close call."
"Aye, well, when I rolled over this morn and found Elgin looming over me, I thought the attacker had returned."
Her eyes rounded at that. "That must have been distressin'."
"Aye, but it was then that I realized that he wore a plaid."
Janna frowned. "Elgin?"
"Nay. Well, aye. But I meant that the attacker did as well."
She considered that briefly. "Maybe he stole it and--" She paused when Iliana began to shake her head.
"The dead Englishman had no plaid in his belongings. Besides, there is something else. When I spoke to Greenweld, he said something that bothered me as well."
"What was that?"
"He said 'twas not his fault that Duncan had left us unprotected. How did he know Duncan had left?"
"Mayhap he and his men were already here when Duncan and the others rode out."
"Mayhap," Iliana agreed. "But he knows not what Duncan looks like. How did he know it was my husband leading the men, and not Angus? 'Sides, if he was nearby when Duncan left, why did he not attack right away?"
Janna frowned. "You are thinking that the reason the messenger was not here was that he was somehow sneaking about, giving Greenweld information? But why would he do that? If he works for Lord Rolfe--"
"If he works for Lord Rolfe."
The servant gasped. "You think--"