by K. E. Saxon
Bao looked over at Daniel, his hands still clenched around Reys’s skull. “What be the problem, brother? Surely, you do not expect me to allow this whoreson to leave here now?”
“Nay, I do not. However, we are not going to abuse our guest while he is here, either,” he replied.
Bao reluctantly rose to his feet and aided Reys to his as well before turning to Daniel. “He’s not to be a part of the negotiations, either. I do not want this prince to learn Branwenn is no longer here.”
“Agreed.” Daniel replied with a nod.
Branwenn looked at Reys. “Why are you being treated like this?” she asked in confusion. She turned then to her other two brothers without waiting for a reply. “Why are you treating him in this manner?”
“Because,” Bao snapped, “I do not trust him to keep our confidence. He has informed us that Llywelyn will not negotiate, will begin the siege immediately, in fact, should he find out that you have been allowed to flee.”
Branwenn’s heart pounded in her chest. She turned back to Reys then. “So he is still insisting that I wed this relation to one of the Norman march lords?”
Reys pressed his lips together and nodded once. “Yes. He will not be thwarted, it seems.”
“And would you? Would you tell Prince Llywelyn that I’ve fled?” Branwenn asked. Now that the time had come to surrender herself to this stranger, she found she couldn’t do it. As it was, she didn’t want to be wed, but the thought of doing so with none of her family around petrified her. Was it so terrible to allow her mighty warrior brothers to fight to keep her with them? After all, Maryn had told her that Daniel never lost any battle—and she, herself, knew that Bao was the bravest, smartest, most unbeatable force of any of the king’s soldiers. And the two of them were quite determined that they could win this thing.
Reys nodded his head grimly and she was sure she saw regret in his eyes when he said, “Yes, I would. I must. For he is my sovereign lord and it is my duty.”
Words flew from her mouth with a force of their own before she’d fully realized she’d made her decision. “Then there is naught for it but that I flee and allow my brothers to use their skills and their might to push the man back from whence he came. For, be assured, I will not return with him!”
“I think it be time that we show our guest to his new lodgings,” Bao said snidely and then he called out to the two scouts he had told to remain outside the doorway earlier. “Take him to the upper chamber of the donjon and lock him in. Make sure there is no means of escape and keep a guard outside his door at all times,” Bao instructed.
After the scouts had departed the hall with Reys in tow, Daniel said, “Once our family is safely at the Donald keep—and now, I wonder if they shouldn’t be sent even further, to the MacLaurins at least—and the villagers who do not travel there as well are safely behind these walls, we’ll send a missive to Llywelyn informing him that we keep Reys with us as our guest. Any negotiations will be done in the glen, with only the two of us meeting with him. Reys will not be allowed an audience with his cousin again until after the siege is done.”
Bao nodded. “We must send the women and Alleck from here. Now. Before another minute has passed. I shan’t be able to think clearly while their lives are in danger.” He turned to Branwenn. “Make haste to the Donald holding. Go!” He said, turning her and slapping her on the behind as he had so many times when she was a wee lass.
“Ouch!” Branwenn yelled dramatically as she scurried toward the door.
“That didn’t hurt and well you know it!” Bao called out to her retreating form, finding his first smile since Reys’s arrival. His heart ached at the thought that she might be lost to him for evermore if Llywelyn discovered their deception. Sobering he looked at Daniel. “I fear Jesslyn and the babe are in no condition to travel as far as the MacLaurin holding now. If we can hold our secret, and hold our fortress, until after the babe’s birth, then they should be able to travel there soon after, as long as the weather permits.”
“Aye, I had not thought of that. You are right, Jesslyn cannot travel such a distance just now.” Daniel sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “We’ll hold our own, fear not. Not only until our wives and family can get to my MacLaurin clan, but until the other clans have arrived to set upon our adversaries’ hind shanks.”
“Aye, but before that can happen, we must inform them of such,” Bao reminded him. “And I think it best that we send six messengers in just as many directions. The prince will be expecting us to gather our allies, and I fully expect him to attempt to stop the missives from getting through. However, he’ll not expect he’ll need to hinder more than two, I’d wager.”
“Aye, that be a sound plan. We must not tarry another moment.” Daniel called for the steward to gather six of the fleetest messengers and then quickly wrote out the missives and stamped them with his seal.
“It is done,” Bao said finally when the last messenger scurried from the chamber a quarter-hour later.
“Aye, it is done. And now we wait.”
Hearing his wife’s voice just outside the doorway, Bao replied, “Nay, and now we say our farewells to our women,” as he rushed from the chamber.
* * *
CHAPTER 18
Jesslyn lay curled on her side on the bed late that night in the chamber she’d been given at the Donald holding recalling the scene in the courtyard earlier that day. Bao had made her vow that she would be careful these next days until the babe was born. She’d grown quite round and her movements had become ever more lumbering with the added weight. He worried that she would not be able to climb and descend the stairs without falling, but she’d assured him that his worries were for naught, that tho’ her movements were a bit slower than before, she was still quite strong and capable of carrying herself up and down stairs as needed. When she’d arrived and attempted just that, however, she’d been shocked to find that one of Laird Donald’s men had been instructed to carry her to her chamber! She chuckled and shook her head. She’d relieved him of that notion soon enough.
She smiled. Bao had been in such a state, worrying that she would be afraid to deliver her babe without him by her side as he’d promised he would be. And no matter how much assurance she’d given him that she no longer felt so fearful of the childbed time, that she looked forward to it now, that she was past ready to be done with her childing state and hold her babe in her arms, he would not be settled.
Jesslyn sighed and sat up with a bit of difficulty, dangling her feet over the edge of the bed and resting her palms on the mattress at her side. Her breathing was somewhat labored from the effort, but she was growing used to that effect now that her childbed time was drawing near. She arched her back in an effort to ease the ache in it.
A knock came on the door and she called out, “Enter!”
Maryn opened the door a crack and peeked inside. “How feel you? Need you a cup of warmed wine?”
Jesslyn motioned for her to come inside and rose from her place on the bed. “My thanks, but nay, I need no wine,” she said, answering the last question first. “My back aches, but in all other respects, I feel quite fit.” She toddled over to the chair by the hearth and slowly levered herself into the seat. “You cannot sleep either, I see.”
“Nay!” Maryn said anxiously, settling in the seat opposite. “I cannot stop worrying about my husband’s safety—and Bao’s as well, of course.”
Jesslyn had been fighting back the panic each time it threatened to rise in her breast, but with Maryn’s words, she lost the battle. Clasping her hands together, she began her old habit of twisting her fingers together. “Aye, and there is much to fear. Of which I have personal experience, as you recall.” Her eyes pooled with tears. “Oh, Maryn! What if Bao is killed? I cannot bear to lose another husband! And this time, I shall have two bairns to raise on my own!”
Maryn took Jesslyn’s hands in her own. “I shouldn’t have voiced my foolish worries to you. For foolish they are,” she said soothingl
y. “You must remember that Daniel and Bao are seasoned warriors who have fine, tactical minds. They’ve thought of every ploy this Prince Llywelyn may try and will overcome each of them. You will see. And you must not forget that, even now I wager, Callum and his clan of MacGregors as well as the MacLaurins are preparing to counter the prince’s strike with one of their own.” She sat back and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Why, ‘twouldn’t surprise me in the least if this whole mess was over and done with before Bealltainn.”
Please, let it be so, Jesslyn prayed silently. An image of Graeme unfurled once more in her mind’s eye. Dead, battered, one arm gone, he had been soaked in blood from the sword wound that had sliced through the links of his mail armor into his neck, nearly severing his head from his body. They’d laid him out on a stretcher and carried his body home to her. She shuddered. “You are much too innocent in the ways of war if you believe such,” she replied sadly. “Nay, we shan’t see our husbands again for many moons, if at all.”
Maryn jumped to her feet. “Nay! I will not listen to such talk! ‘Tis bad luck, I know it is.” Now she twisted her fingers together. Turning, she walked a few paces away. After a moment, she straightened her spine and threw her shoulders back. “Nay, we must believe that all will be well, that is the only way we will make it through this without losing our wits, I’m sure of it.”
Jesslyn nodded and forced her panic back down deep once more. “Aye, you are right. For our own soundness of mind, we must not think on the worst.”
* * *
A moon passed without word from the Maclean holding, so Laird Donald sent one of his men to scout out the situation, in stealth, and report back to him.
The man arrived back in the late afternoon, winded and distressed. With horror in his voice, he gasped out the news. “The enemy army is legion, Laird. More men than I’ve seen assembled in my lifetime. And they are well equipped. They’ve war machines positioned on the north and south side of the barbican and bombard it mercilessly. “There were many lying dead along the battlements.”
Laird Donald rose to his feet and began to pace with his head bent and his hands clasped behind his back. “And the Macleans? Do they hold steady?”
“Aye, so far. But I know not for how much longer they can do so. For the numbers against them are vast, as I said.”
“Have the MacGregors or the MacLaurins arrived?”
The man shook his head. “Nay, Laird. I saw no other warriors outside the fortress other than the enemy’s.”
“I wonder what is taking them so long to arrive?” Laird Donald mumbled to himself before looking up at his man and saying, “I need you to gather three others and journey to the MacGregors’ land. Hopefully, you will meet up with them along the way, but if not, you must carry the message to Laird MacGregor that he and his men are needed forthwith to aid in this war against their allies, the Macleans. Mayhap, the missive did not make it to them. If that is the case, you will travel to the MacLaurins as well. Understood?”
“Aye, Laird.”
* * *
Branwenn scurried into the shadows of the stairwell when the scout walked out of the great hall into the antechamber. She’d heard everything. The Maclean allies had not arrived yet. And Bao and Daniel were outnumbered by thousands of men. Men with war machines capable of tumbling the Maclean fortress! She should not have left her fate in the hands of her loving brothers. For her, they may be killed. For her, they may leave two widows and their bairns. For her, they may watch their clansmen, and those of their allies, perish. It had finally become clear to her that she was being selfish, that she had willingly fallen back into her youthful habit of allowing Bao to solve her problems for her. Of relying on him to solve her problems for her. But she was a woman grown now. She must stand on her own and do what she must, do what was best, do what would engender the least amount of grief and destruction to those for whom she cared most. Do what she had sworn to herself she would do if the prince laid siege to her family’s holding. She straightened her spine and threw back her shoulders, a new purpose in her stance. She must surrender herself to the prince and wed with whomever he had contracted for her hand. It wouldn’t be so horrid to do so, she was sure of it. After all, Reys had never mentioned her future husband in any disparaging manner. He must be as fine a man as any her grandmother had in mind, surely. ‘Twas settled then. She nodded once for good measure. She would give herself over to the prince. She plucked her thumbnail against her front tooth. But first, she must plan a way out of here and figure out how she would get to this prince before anyone found out what she was about.
* * *
“I cannot understand why none of our allies have shown up yet. Do you think it possible all of our missives were intercepted?” Daniel shouted to Bao over the din of battle. They stood in the curve of the south tower stair, watching the battle progress through the arrow slit. This was one of several of the quieter regions of the fortress where they could meet to make battle plans and give each other news of what was happening in their area of the fortress where they each battled to keep the enemy from breaking through.
“Aye, ‘tis the only explanation,” Bao shouted back. He shrugged and winced from the sting it caused the injury he’d received this morn from a stray arrow. It had gone into his chest, just below the collarbone. He’d yet to get the arrowhead out, instead simply breaking off the wooden shaft and occasionally dousing the wound with uisge beatha, as Daniel had recommended. “The man has more wit than I suspected. That was a grave mistake on my part. ‘Twill not happen again, I assure you.”
“It is not time to worry yet, brother. Remember you we made provisions for such an outcome in our planning, that Laird Donald will send a scout here when he receives no word from us. I’ve no doubt he’ll quickly get word to the MacGregors and the MacLaurins once he learns of our situation. Our task is to keep the enemy from overtaking us until that time.”
“Aye. But I think it best that we build the second mangonel. If we can destroy more of their towers and ballistae, ‘twill delay their advance.”
“Get the men on it at once,” Daniel replied. “Where is Derek?” The man had been the lieutenant before Bao’s arrival, and would be again once Bao took over his duties as Laird of the Macleans. Derek was now serving as second lieutenant and was an integral part of the tactical decisions regarding the siege.
“He’s overseeing the defense of the barbican. Since he is the most skilled with the mangonel, he’s set himself the task of destroying the tower containing the battering ram that approaches before it reaches the gate,” Bao replied, absently rubbing the area around his wound.
“Good,” Daniel replied. Then, noticing Bao’s movements, asked, “Will you make it until the bombardment ceases for the night for me to tend that wound?”
Bao nodded. “Aye. I am not losing much blood from it.”
Daniel gave him a curt nod and moved past him down the stairs. “I’ll see you in two hours in the north tower. And make sure Derek is there as well.”
“Aye,” Bao replied as he followed behind his brother.
* * *
One of Laird Donald’s scouts returned a fortnight later. Their mission had been a success and forces were on their way from both the MacGregor’s and the MacLaurin’s to meet the enemy army on the field.
“I have tidings of the Macleans, as well, Laird,” the scout said.
“Aye, speak up, man,” Laird Donald said anxiously.
“One of the brothers has been wounded,” the man replied.
“Wha—which one?”
“I know not,” he said. “The wound itself was not mortal, but it must have festered before it was tended properly and now they fear he’ll perish from the fever, Laird.”
Laird Donald turned and walked toward a bench and then numbly collapsed upon it. “How am I to give this dreadful report to my daughter...my guests?” he said hollowly, his eyes fixed on some point far in the distance. He looked into the eyes of the scout and said, �
��Jesslyn, Lady Maclean, only three sennights past, brought her son into this world. What will be my words to her if it be her husband that may perish?”
* * *
Branwenn hastened up the stairs to her chamber and sat down hard on the bed, chewing her thumbnail. She’d heard all, of course. She’d just begun descending the stairs, intending to ask the cook for a chamomile tincture for her menstrual cramping, when she saw the man go through the portal of the great hall and immediately set about listening to the exchange. She’d discovered that her only means of learning news of the siege was to do thus, for Laird Donald held much from them. He was a kind and good man, but he strove to protect them too much, revealing as little detail as possible when he spoke of the siege.
The first sennight after hearing news of her brothers’ fight against the Prince, she tried twice to get past the guards, but had twice been turned back. Afterward, it had taken a fortnight of close observation to the routines of the keep to devise her new plan. And now, ‘twas clear, she must tarry no longer. She would fly, and fly quickly. She would not even wait until night fell to do so. She would wear the drab, brown tunic and tan hose of a villein that she’d worn last summer while she and Bao lived in the wood. The hood would cover her hair and she’d wear it low enough to shadow her face as well. With a bit of soiling to her cheeks and her hands, she should pass through the gate easily enough.
But the trip would be a brutal one on foot. If only she could acquire a cart and ox. The wheels in her mind spun with possibilities. Aye, a cart would make the entire process easier. And hadn’t she seen just such a conveyance filled with horse dung sitting outside the stables this morn past? She’d borrow the thing and make sure that it was returned to its owner within a day of her arrival at the prince’s camp.
Rising to her feet, she then hastened to the chest that held her clothing and rummaged through the contents, flinging out each piece of her villein costume as she came upon it. With a cart, she should be able to reach the prince before dusk. And by morn, the siege on the Maclean holding would be over. But she would insist upon seeing her brothers before she departed. She must. Worry for their welfare was tearing at her insides. Which one labored for his life? If it be Bao, she’d die of a broken heart before she ever left this land. But what if it be Daniel? Oh, God. Her heart could not stand the pain that worry gave her either.