We finally reached the ground via a scaffold on the inside of the wall. Carefully we scurried across the courtyard. At some distance we saw the main gate. In the light of a torch, a gatekeeper could be seen there, strolling boredly back and forth. We were far enough away that he couldn't see us, but we had to stay alert.
"Let's look at the horses!", I whispered to my companions. "If Mairead is here, then my horse is here too."
Quietly I led us to the stables. There we looked at the resting four-legged friends. Most of the horses were grey or spotted. I could find a black stallion, but my brown stallion didn't seem to be here. At first I wanted to vent my disappointment, but then I realised that it could mean that Mairead had not arrived here yet. There might still be a chance to intercept her in time and take the stolen documents from her. Mixed in with this thought, however, was the worry that she might never show up here either. After all, we had only followed vague clues and suspicions. Risking our lives for that seemed absurd and ridiculous to me. What were we doing here? Shouldn't we get the hell out of here?
"What are we going to do now?", Rich asked a little anxiously.
"While we're here, let's see if the little thief is here," Amos suggested.
"Her horse ... I mean, my horse isn't here."
"Are you scared, George?"
"Where are you thinking?"
"Then let's go spy!"
Amo's suggestion was stupid, but I didn't want to be considered a coward. I followed him to the residential tower. Richard was the last to arrive, quietly uttering curses and babbling to himself like a senile clod.
In the entrance to the tower, a guard slept the sleep of the righteous, leaning on his lance. A cloud of booze could be smelt as we passed them. Apparently the MacGregors were not expecting attackers, otherwise they would surely have been more careful. We crept quietly to the upper floor. Here was a large hall, the ground of which was covered with sheepskins. Dozens of men and women snored quietly away. With bated breath, we moved through the hall, taking a good look at the faces of the MacGregors illuminated by the pale moonlight and praying that none of them would awaken. Many of those present were red-haired, but we saw only three women among them. One older lady and two younger ones, but their faces were unknown to us. Richard thought we had now pushed our luck long enough. He had crept to the exit of the hall and was waiting for us there. When we reached him too, he turned to leave, bumping his arm against a candlestick that had been placed next to the door. The thick pillar candle fell to the floor with a thud.
We immediately hid in the corridor when we heard a voice. "Hey, who's there?" grunted a man.
"What was that?" grumbled a second sleepy voice.
I heard the floorboards creak as the awakened men rose. We prepared to rush down the stairs. I cursed Amos and his great idea to spy here in the residential tower. And I cursed Richard for his clumsiness.
At that moment, a huge dog trotted down the stairs. The shaggy animal paid no attention to us at all, but simply marched into the hall, where it slumped lazily to the floor.
I heard the men exhale in relief. "Orkley, you stinking sack of fur! Can give you quite a scare. Don't do that again!"
Then the men lay back on their blankets and we dared to carefully draw in air to breathe. Quietly and silently we now made our descent. The door guard was still slumbering. We could probably have kicked him and he would not have awakened. In the shadows of the buildings we now scurried to the stables. As we were about to start the climb to leave the castle again, I looked back at the main gate. The torch was still visible, but the gatekeeper had disappeared. Was it possible that he had abandoned his post?
I looked at the horses and had an idea. "I need a horse," I spoke to Richard. "The gate is unguarded. If you let me out and close the gate behind me again, I'd really appreciate it."
Richard looked at me and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Not like that, my friend. You can let me out with the horse and make the uncertain journey back yourself. I can get into that."
I shrugged as if I didn't care. "That way, then."
"Where is the gatekeeper, anyway?" now Amos asked a not-so-unimportant question. We crept in the shadows of the wall until we reached the gate, when suddenly we heard the pounding sound of floorboards. We peered into the small gatehouse and saw the guard's moonlit buttocks moving rhythmically between naked thighs. The man grunted like a boar and the woman emitted pointed sounds. The situation was so fortunate that we gave up watching any longer. The favour of the hour had to be seized. I sprinted to the stable, threw the blanket and saddle over the black stallion, untied him and pulled him behind me by the halter.
Meanwhile, Amos and Rich had already opened the gate. Richard immediately jumped into the saddle of the noble animal and rode out into the open.
"Good luck, my friend!" whispered Amos and followed Rich on foot.
I closed the gate behind the two of them and put the big wooden bolt down. As I did so, I thanked the valiant Scottish craftsmen who had created the gate quietly and smoothly. Not even a faint squeak had been heard as the hinges turned.
As the sounds from the gatehouse intensified and the amorous interlude approached its decisive climax, I sprinted behind the stable and climbed over the scaffolding onto the wall ledge. From here I dropped into the depths, cushioning my fall with bent legs and eventually even pulling off an elegant roll.
Unable to believe that we had actually succeeded, I made my way to what I hoped were my renewed friends.
Chapter 38
We slept fitfully that night. In sight of the castle, we always had a guard on duty to be quickly informed about what was happening there. But no one could really fall asleep. I was much too excited inside myself and my friends were certainly too worried that they might have another bad awakening after my watch.
In the morning of the next day, we spotted a rider coming towards the castle from the west. He was moving very swiftly. Horrified, we realised that it was a person dressed in black, who would reach the castle gates much faster than we could strike. It was illusory to think we could still intercept the rider in time and unnoticed. When Amos also spotted red hair under the wide-brimmed hat, our hunch became a certainty.
"Damn!", Richard groaned. "We should have taken our post somewhere else. We would have actually caught her after all."
"There's no visible road here," I pointed out. "Mairead could have come from anywhere. We could hardly have sat down right in front of the castle without attracting attention."
We watched idly as the gate opened and the thief disappeared into the castle courtyard.
"Damn it!", Amos now also cursed. "At this very moment she is about to hand over the letter to the commander of the fortress."
"What are we going to do?"
"We will wait!" A fourth voice had reached our ears. Jerking around, we recognised a figure that had crept up on us in the twilight. Under the man's grey cloak, the tunic of a Guardsman had been visible for a fraction of a moment. The charismatic eyes in the full-bearded face flashed with amusement. A wry smile was on Edwin's lips as he looked at our stunned faces.
"Edwin? What are you doing here?", I blurted out in surprise.
"I'm actually on my way to Dunnottar. You know! The annual gathering. But there have been a few incidents that have caused me to take a diversion. There is a traitor among us."
"So you know about the letter?"
Edwin stumbled and looked sharply at Richard. "What can you tell me about it, you jackanapee!"
Now Richard told of the seal that had come off and of the letter he had read. He also told Edwin how embarrassingly we had been tricked by the thief, which made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to be exposed like that in front of Edwin.
"Well, the times of the changing of the watch. Keys to the palace chambers. Just what we feared! The King is to be assassinated, and very soon. What were you going to do now, boys? Were you going to take on the MacGregors single-handedly?"
"Actually, we were plan
ning to confront Mairead and take the letter from her."
"Then I guess you failed all along the line, fellows." Edwin laughed, but not in a hurtful way.
We didn't feel like laughing, though. We had been clumsy and foolish.
"Cheer up, boys! Nothing is lost yet," Edwin now spoke calmly. "We have been on the trail of this conspiracy for some time. A few weeks ago we noticed wax residue on the keys of the royal chambers. This residue is usually left behind when prints are taken from keys in order to copy them. Someone who had access to Her Majesty's closest chambers had to be involved in a conspiracy. I soon had my suspicions, but I could not prove anything. My hunt for the traitor led me here."
"You rode here from London all by yourself?", I inquired in wonder. The Guardsmen's motto came to my mind. The invocation of a sense of togetherness.
"Don't be ridiculous, George. No, two thirds of the Guardsmen's corps are on their way to Dunnottar. The King is currently staying at Saint James Palace and is under increased protection. We sold it to him as a simple precautionary measure in the preparations for the birthday celebrations of his son Charles. He knows nothing of any plot and that is how it should remain. The King is an old man and sometimes a little overanxious. We should not upset him unnecessarily."
"And where are the other Guardsmen now?"
"East of here is their camp, not a day's ride away. It is only two days' ride to Dunnottar. I am here alone because we could not take all the Guardsmen into our confidence."
"Because of the traitor!", I concluded.
"Exactly."
"So what do we do now?" asked Amos. "It's four of us against forty. It's going to be an uneven fight."
"Who said anything about fighting? Remember, fighting is only when it can't be avoided. Only a fool seeks danger. What we will do is based on stealth. The MacGregors will not march into England in their Belted Plaids to kill the King. No, they will send a single assassin to do their work, and I will face that assassin."
"And what do we do?"
"You track Mairead as soon as she leaves the castle. Unless I am mistaken, she will want to meet with the traitor and when that happens, you will catch him in the act."
Chapter 39
We had been following Mairead's trail for half a day now. Her path had led her east after leaving the castle. She was no longer wearing the black men's clothes, but had changed back into a grey dress and wrapped herself in the Belted Plaid in the MacGregor clan colours. She looked much as she had in the tavern where I had first met her and directly insulted her. Now I could no longer fully comprehend my former standpoint. Mairead was a proud warrior, full of courage and passion. I could not quite grasp why I now judged her so mildly. Actually, I had every reason to be really angry with her. She supported a plot to assassinate the King, had almost beaten me in battle and overpowered me in my sleep. Besides, she seemed to take on anyone if she could hope to gain the slightest advantage. So I should have hated her, but I felt more a mixture of respect and curiosity. Basically, I longed to meet her face to face again. But whatever would happen, I realised, her chances were more than bad. We would either kill her in battle or capture her, which was also a death sentence. The Guardsmen would lock a traitor up in the tower. Her head might even be impaled on the traitors' gate. The thought of this shook me inside. Not for the first time, I asked myself if I was on the right side. Was it correct to let a young woman go over the edge whose only crime was to have been born in the wrong colours? Hadn't the King also done wrong by simply disenfranchising an entire clan, executing men, branding women and starving children? What kind of man did I actually want to work for?
On the other hand, it was not my place to question the decisions of a monarch. All great rulers had to make tough decisions and demand strict obedience from their subjects. And Edwin's praise of the King also came back to me. He had brought the kingdoms of England, Scotland and Ireland together without spilling a drop of blood. In view of such great political deeds, I suppose he had to be forgiven for one or two mistakes, especially since the Campbells had maliciously deceived the King with their shirts stained with sheep's blood. Whatever happened, I vowed, Mairead would not die by my hand.
We had to keep a great distance from the pursued one in order not to be noticed, because the area was barren and desolate, but by now almost completely covered by snow, which made it easier to follow a trail. As the weather was dull and overcast, we could not see very far. That our thief had already noticed us was unlikely, but not impossible. When the scattered flakes turned into a veritable flurry of snow, we closed up a little so as not to lose Mairead's trail.
My hands were shaking with cold despite the leather gloves. I had put my coat on to be somewhat protected against the icy winds, but it was not much use. Richard and Amos seemed to be in a similar situation, for their tense faces told of their agony.
On a desolate plateau, a tent camp came into view. Twelve makeshift red cloth dwellings were visible. Between them, horses crowded close together. On one pole, the standard of the Guard was fluttering in the wind - the three lions of Britain seemed to be struggling against the fierce wind.
"This is the camp Edwin was talking about," Richard told us the obvious. "Surely Mairead won't ..."
She didn't. Her trail led past the camp in a northerly direction. Soon the tents had disappeared in the snow flurry. We now rode into a dip overgrown with shrubbery and tiny trees. The path led between crippled pines, called Caledonian Pine by the locals. The branches extended into the middle of the path like barky arms. The branches reminded us of hands that were trying to reach out for us. We almost made the mistake of revealing ourselves to Mairead, for she had suddenly and unexpectedly stopped her horse and jumped off. Just in time, we managed to take cover behind some trees.
"What the hell is she doing?" asked Amos. "There's nothing around here for miles. Has her horse hurt itself?"
"I don't know," I returned, "but she's looking around like she's expecting someone."
Indeed, Mairead now seemed nervous and tense. She kept looking around in all directions. Her right hand rested on the hilt of her rapier as she did so.
"She'll have noticed us!" Rich was probably even right about that.
"Damn, we should have kept a greater distance," it slipped out of my mouth. "But what's she going to do? Fight three chasers? Mairead's good with a blade, but definitely not that good."
"Is she coming at us, or does it just seem that way?"
Mairead had indeed started moving, but not directly in our direction. She was aiming for a spot in the forest slightly away from our position. Her sword arm was now steadily drawing the steel from its scabbard. She pointed the blade towards the forest and called out loudly, "You can come out. I am alone."
A huge fellow in a long travelling cloak stepped out of the thicket. He had barely approached Mairead when he flipped back the hood that he had pulled over his head to protect himself from the icy wind.
My lower jaw dropped in disbelief. "This is ..."
"... Wilbur," Richard completed my sentence.
"That damned traitor," Amos whispered angrily. "But why him? He's a Guardsman, isn't he?"
"Silence! We'd better listen. Maybe we'll find out." Amos looked at me angrily but shut up. We kept quiet, no one moved. Everyone tried to follow the conversation of the two traitors as well as the ambient noise would allow. The wind was disturbing.
"... that my brothers are very satisfied with the contents of the letter." Mairead had stowed her rapier back in its sheath.
"Satisfied how?"
"Your gambling debts are in the past. You have Angus MacGregor's word on that."
Wilbur exhaled audibly in relief.
Mairead continued. "But it was unnecessarily difficult to procure the right letter. You described Richard to me wrongly. I lost valuable time that way."
"Why is that?" asked Wilbur in surprise. "I told you to get hold of the stupid one in the ferret's coat. I gave him the letter myself."
R
ichard snorted angrily. "The bastard didn't say that for nothing."
"Only he wasn't that stupid. He almost beat me, and the letter he was carrying was a bloody letter of recommendation to the captain of Dunnottar Castle."
"I can't explain that," said Wilbur. "Maybe they switched clothes?"
Mairead made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Well, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I was able to capture the right letter after all. But if we ever work together again, I would like you to be better prepared."
"Yeah, except we'll never work together again," Wilbur returned, slightly triumphant. "I have no more debts and I am under no obligation to you."
Mairead just shrugged. "You're a gambler, Wilbur. People like you tend to make the same mistakes over and over. I'm pretty sure our paths will cross again." Mairead had climbed into the saddle of her horse with those words.
"Hey, didn't you forget another little thing?" called Wilbur to her.
Exasperated, Mairead pulled a thick purse from her cloak, tossed it to Wilbur, who caught it effortlessly. Grinning broadly, he said, "Nice doing business with you."
Mairead called out, "See you soon!" then rode off.
What were we to do now? We no longer needed to follow Mairead, she had led us to the traitor. Her usefulness was extinguished. But should we now reveal ourselves to Wilbur or carry the information about his betrayal to Edwin in the camp?
Meanwhile, Mairead rode close to our hiding spot. "Do we want to stop her?" whispered Richard.
"No, we don't." Startled, the three of us turned around. Vincent was crouching behind us. He grinned slightly. "She's far too beautiful to die. Let her go."
The Caledonian Race: A Pulp Adventure (George Glen Series Book 2) Page 22