Chapter 15
A s covertly as she could, Sine shifted her position in her saddle. She discretely rubbed her increasingly sore backside. Just as she began to consider asking Lord William if she could rest for a moment, four riders approached. She was relieved to see that Gamel and Farthing were among them, as were Blane and Sir Lesley. They all dismounted so that they could confer before riding on to Dorchabeinn.
“Sine.” Gamel briefly but firmly embraced her before recalling how many people were watching them and turning to face his father and Lord Thomas. “Martin Robertson has joined us.”
After a moment of stunned surprise, Sine felt weak-kneed with relief and renewed hope. She slipped her arm about Gamel’s trim waist and lightly used him to support herself as he told his father and the others all about the plan to save Beldane and Barre. Sine dared not believe in their good fortune. It seemed too good to be true. When Gamel said they still wanted her to go to the gates of Dorchabeinn and confront Arabel, she frowned.
“Ye dinnae think that we can just go inside secretively and defeat the Brodies that way?” she asked.
“It could be done,” replied Gamel. “’Tis better to divide our strength, however. Arabel will be expecting us to come to her gates. If ye dinnae arrive, she may grow dangerously suspicious. Also, if ye are there, confronting her, it will make for a very good distraction. The Brodie guards will be easing their watch, for they shall scent victory.”
“There is probably no way to keep the twins out of all this either. I dinnae believe we can just creep in and grab them.” Sine sighed.
“I think not,” said Farthing. “Martin is certain that Arabel shall want the twins close at hand as sunset nears and she begins to look for ye to arrive. ’Tis yet another good reason for ye to do as we originally planned and go to the gates of Dorchabeinn pretending to accept Arabel’s offer of a trade. Ye dinnae want the woman to suspect that ye are refusing her. That would send her into a rage when the lads are still in her reach.”
“Nay, nay, of course not.” Sine grimaced. “I just hoped that I could avoid facing the woman again. I truly dread it,” she whispered.
No one spoke. They all just looked at her with varying expressions of sympathy. Lord William suggested that they take a moment to rest and water the horses. Gamel took her by the hand and led her over to a gnarled pine tree. Sine shook her head when he indicated with a smooth sweep of his hand that they should sit down. She leaned against the stout, crooked tree trunk and prayed that the respite would ease the aches in her backside.
“Is something wrong?” Gamel asked as he stood in front of her.
“Nay, not truly. I but wish to stand up for a while.” She made a disgusted face at him when he slowly grinned. “I am not accustomed to spending so much time bouncing about on the back of a horse.”
“’Twill soon be over, dearling.”
She studied his face for a moment, idly thinking how she would never be able to forget it. “Do ye truly believe that we shall win?”
“Aye, I do. It may weel be a verra closely won victory, but ’twill be ours. Martin has given us all we could have hoped for. We have now gained the advantage of surprise. And, aye, ere ye ask—I am certain that we can trust Martin.”
“So Margot has reached the good in the mon,” Sine murmured, and was pleased for her friend.
“I believe she has. But I think Martin would have aided us even if he had no Margot to consider. ’Tis the boys.”
“The twins? Do ye think they have somehow convinced Martin to help us?”
“In a way, although I doubt that they realize it. Martin cannot stomach aiding in the murder of children.”
“Ah, of course. ’Tis probably why he allowed us to run away six years ago. I am convinced that he was weel aware of my plans, yet he ne’er said a word to Malise and Arabel.”
Gamel nodded. “Martin said as much himself. We spent a great deal of the night talking and I do think that he can be trusted. Aye, not only to aid us now but to give us his full loyalty afterward. He has been the steward of Dorchabeinn these past six years, ye ken. Ye may wish to allow him to continue in that position.”
“I suspect Martin is verra good at it. Arabel would ne’er have let him hold such a place in Dorchabeinn for so long if he wasnae. ’Tis something to consider.” Just then Lord William called for them to remount. She tensed.
“’Tis time to begin the game,” Gamel said quietly.
Sine took his face in her hands and gently kissed him. “Take care, Gamel. When this is all over I wish to celebrate a victory, not mourn a loss.”
“When this is all over, I intend to be verra much alive and ready to talk about us for a change.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss and walked away.
That was something she wished to avoid, Sine mused as she moved toward her mount. She watched Gamel leave with a small group of about twenty armed men that included Farthing, Gamel’s three brothers, Blane, and Sir Lesley. She felt a quick, deep stab of fear. If Martin was laying a trap for them, she and her allies would be thoroughly devastated by the resultant loss.
Lord William helped her mount her horse and she forced a gracious smile for him despite the protesting twinge of pain she felt as her backside touched the saddle. Her mind was crowded with thoughts of Gamel as she rode toward Dorchabeinn, Lords William and Thomas flanking her. Ready to talk , he had said. She could almost hope that he was only planning to tell her that he wanted their marriage annulled, but she was sure that was not the case. He was tired of the gentle wooing he had been doing and now wanted to speak more forthrightly. Sine winced as she thought of how she was going to have to stop his words—forever.
She tried to fix her thoughts upon the twins and the coming confrontation with Arabel, but it was impossible. Gamel was about to risk his life for her. She would thank him for that heroic act by telling him to leave her alone. She heartily wished that there was some painless way to do that, but she knew she would probably hurt him and was going to be tearing her own heart into a thousand cutting pieces. Suddenly the strength to face Arabel did not seem so hard to grasp. It paled in comparison to what she would require to endure the final confrontation with Gamel.
Daylight was waning by the time Sine reached Dorchabeinn. She was somewhat taken aback by her first sight of her home in six long years. It was not quite as she remembered it.
As a child she had never seen it as the cold, forbidding keep it looked to be now. The main tower was now L-shaped. Arabel had also erected a second wall with huge iron-studded gates. Dorchabeinn squatted in the middle of a flat, barren acre of land and Sine felt no kinship with the place as she stared at it.
“Ye look surprised, lass,” murmured Lord William.
“’Tis much larger than I recalled, much more of a fortress than I remember.”
“Ye were still verra young when ye left, and the Brodies have strengthened it.”
“Which shouldnae surprise me, considering the enemies those two have made for themselves.” She smiled faintly. “’Tis glad I am that I ne’er gave any serious thought to storming the place.”
Lord William chuckled. “A charge can be a glorious sight, but ’tis rarely the way to bring down a strong keep. Those upon the walls have the advantage and can easily cut down many a mon. ’Tis often no more than slaughter. Nay, more often than not, and more often than any soldier cares to confess, the battle is won by siege or stealth.”
She frowned as they slowly approached the huge gates. “Do ye think that the others are all right?”
“Dinnae think on them, lass. They can take care of themselves. Ye shall soon need all of your wits to fight your own battle.”
Sine nodded and stared up at the well-armed men upon the walls as Lord William obeyed the call from one of the Brodie men-at-arms and signaled his group to stop. She wondered how her mother would play the scene and prayed that she was right in thinking that Arabel would not hurry, would in fact try every sort of trick to delay the process of the trade so that she could fully savor her daughter’s defeat. Every moment that the final meeting between her and Arabel was delayed, the better the chances that Arabel would see her victory turned into a rout.
“State your name and the reason ye are here,” bellowed a guard from up on the walls.
“This is the Lady Sine Catriona Logan,” Lord William yelled back. “She is here to answer a summons from your mistress.”
“And what proof do ye have that the lass is truly Lady Sine?”
“Take off your headdress, lass,” Lord William commanded gently.
As slowly as she dared, Sine removed her headdress and undid her loose braid. It surprised her when the men upon the walls stared at her long and hard. They clearly had not been told how strongly she resembled their mistress. Sine had to smile as she thought of how many of them were suffering from the sharp bite of superstition.
“I will inform Lord and Lady Brodie,” the guard called down, and then hurried away.
“How long do ye think she shall make us wait?” Sine asked Lord William.
“At least until sunset, I hope,” he muttered as he glanced up at the sky.
Sine also glanced up and briefly prayed that night could come with just a little more haste than it usually did. “Mayhaps e’en long enough for our men to get through the passage and inside of the keep itself.”
“Lady Sine is at the gates,” the burly guard announced after Arabel admitted him into the great hall.
“Alone?” demanded Arabel.
“There is only a small force of armed men with her.”
“How small?”
“Twenty, mayhaps thirty.”
Arabel laughed and clapped her hands. “I was right. She has indeed come like the lamb to the slaughter. Fetch those little bastards,” she ordered the guard, and turned to Malise the moment the man had left. “We have won.”
“I believe I shall wait to heft my tankard in a celebratory toast,” said Malise, idly drumming his long, soft fingers on the table. “If ye recall, we thought she was dead once before, only to have her return to disrupt our lives.”
“Weel, she cannae escape this trap.” She gave Martin, who sat on Malise’s right, a malevolent look. “And soon I mean to discover exactly how she managed to slip away six years ago.”
Martin returned her glare with a look of bewildered innocence. “Do ye think that I ken something about that?”
“I think ye ken a great deal about it. Ever since the first day ye arrived here ye have been aware of each and every thing that happens within these walls, yet somehow ye failed to learn of Sine’s plans to flee with the bastards.”
“I can only profess my complete innocence and pray that ye will believe me.”
“We shall see just how long ye continue to profess your innocence. Howbeit, our talk must wait.” She frowned at her husband. “I still dinnae understand why ye hesitate to celebrate our victory.”
“Because we havenae succeeded yet. We have not won until your daughter and those bastard brothers of hers are dead and buried. Aye, and Sir Gamel Logan interred at their side.”
“And most of that shall be accomplished in but a few moments.”
“Dinnae ye think ye ought to wait a wee while ere ye kill Sine and the twins? It might not be wise to murder them whilst the Logans and the Magnussons are just beyond our gates. They might not see ye when ye wield the knife, but their tale of what happened here will leave few people with any doubts about our guilt.”
“Nay. In truth, I have begun to see the presence of Sine’s allies as a good chance for us to do as we please and not be seen as the guilty ones. When the twins arenae sent out immediately, I am sure that her little army—”
“’Tisnae that little,” muttered Malise.
Arabel ignored that sullen interruption. “Her little army will surely attempt something. We only need a wee fight to claim that Sine and her brothers died in that fray. If ye dinnae like that explanation, then we may say that the army’s presence inspired Sine to try and flee with the boys. When we tried to hold them, as is our right, they turned on us. In the ensuing struggle, they were all killed. Do ye have an idea ye think is more clever?” she snapped when Malise continued to frown.
“Aye—just wait. Wait until we can do what we want with a wee bit more privacy.”
“I have waited six years. I willnae wait another day!” Arabel yelled. “I willnae allow Sine the chance to get away from me again. Do ye ken how close she came to stealing all that we have?”
Martin watched Arabel as the woman screamed at Malise. Her husband was gazing into her enraged face with near fascination. Arabel was swiftly losing whatever tenuous grip she had had upon her sanity. As she sank into the black depths of her madness, Malise acted as if he were no more than a spectator at some grand tournament. Martin did not think that Malise was particularly sane either. No sane man could watch Arabel with the calm interest and slowly growing lust that Malise did. While Martin found Arabel’s madness chilling, Malise clearly found it arousing.
The appearance of the guard dragging in the twins put an abrupt halt to Arabel’s tirade, if not to her fury, which she turned on the boys. Martin felt a little sick when he looked at Beldane and Barre. They were even more battered than they had been when they had first been brought into Dorchabeinn. He doubted Beldane could see very well, for the child’s eyes were nearly swollen shut.
“Your sister is here to watch ye die,” Arabel said, walking around the children and studying them with a cold-eyed detachment. “She has come to Dorchabeinn to accept the trade I offered her.”
“Sine doesnae believe ye,” said Barre, helping his brother stand straight with a supporting arm about his waist. “She kens what a liar ye are. She will ne’er fall into your trap.”
“So arrogant,” she murmured, and casually slapped the boy. “Ye carry the stink of your father.”
“At least we were spared the taint of your foul blood.” Barre staggered a little from the force of yet another blow to the side of his head.
“Ye ne’er should have survived this long.” She looked at Malise. “Are ye coming up onto the walls with me?”
“Nay, love. Ye will enjoy it far more than I shall.” He lifted his goblet in a brief, silent toast. “Go and play your game.”
After glaring at the twins one last time, Arabel walked out of the great hall. Martin heard her order the guard who had brought the twins in to be prepared to bring them to the walls if it was necessary. He looked at his cousin Malise the moment Arabel was gone and wondered how Malise could look so unconcerned.
“’Tisnae a verra wise time for Arabel to commit murder,” he said, watching his cousin closely and realizing that he did not really know or understand the man he had served for so many years.
“Nay, but dinnae expect me to stop her from doing it. E’en if I took a firm stand, she would find a way to kill Sine and the bastards. I could probably chain the woman in the depths of the castle and she would still find some way to kill them.” He shrugged. “I cannae see the sense of working so hard when I ken verra weel that I will accomplish naught.”
“Those men outside your walls willnae meekly allow ye to kill Sine and the twins. They will raise an outcry.”
“I am not verra concerned about that, cousin. Arabel’s tales are a wee bit weak and simple, but I believe I can think of a better one. Aye, there may be some trouble, but ’twill pass. The matter of Sir Gamel Logan does trouble me a bit. The Logans have power. Ending all chance of Sir Gamel being a threat will be difficult, but I will soon think of a reasonable plan.”
Martin took a long drink of his wine. In his way, Malise was just as mad as Arabel. And he began to fear that no plan could be successful against the Brodies. How could it when the people he was dealing with possessed so little reason? They had to know the danger they courted, yet they seemed confident that everything would go as they wished. Such blind assurance made Martin suffer a brief chill of superstitious dread. He prayed that Gamel and Farthing were fully aware of what they were about to confront.
Gamel grit his teeth and forced himself to stop pacing. It did no good. The minutes did not pass any more swiftly because he was wearing a rut in the moist ground. They were waiting in the wood just beyond sight of Dorchabeinn for the sun to set and give them the shadows they required for their stealthy work. He was sure that Sine was already at the castle gates and would soon be entering the keep. The longer they had to wait before making their way to the secret entrance Martin had revealed to them, the longer Sine would have to be with Arabel.
“It willnae be much longer now,” murmured Sir Lesley.
“’Tis far too long already.” Gamel glared up at the sky, watching the gray clouds seep across the sky with an irritating slowness. “Sine is probably standing before Arabel right now.”
“There is still time,” Farthing said. “Arabel will want to savor her victory. She willnae cut Sine down the moment the lass enters Dorchabeinn. Nay, Arabel will want to taunt Sine, and gloat.”
“Aye, ye are right.” Gamel grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. “’Tis just that we have a chance to win this fight and I want to have at it.”
“Ye cannae want that any more than I.”
“Nay, of course not.” Gamel sat down next to Farthing, who was propped up against the rough trunk of a tree. “I think I also wish to get to that cursed passage to be sure that Martin has left it open for us.”
Farthing nodded. “I have been having a doubt or two myself. Not only about our being able to get inside, but about what might await us there once we do. ’Twas easy enough to trust him last night. ’Tis not so easy now.”
“Weel, there is no altering the plan.”
“Nay, of course not.”
Gamel laughed shortly. “I am also eager to be finished with this so that I can have a talk with the lass.”
“Talk to her? About what?”
“Ye are looking at me rather suspiciously.”
“I just wonder if ye are about to confess that your passion for the lass has faded. I cannae think of what else ye would need to say to her.”
“Ye wish to discuss this now ?”
“We arenae going anywhere for a wee while and I certainly dinnae wish to stand here and mull o’er all that could go wrong.”
“Nor do I. Weel, my passion hasnae wavered,” Gamel snapped. “I mean to speak to Sine about our marriage, about that fool promise she made me make ere she would kneel before the priest. ’Tis a discussion she has neatly avoided. Aye, and I havenae pressed her on it, for she had more than enough to worry about. Weel, once her enemies are gone, she will have no more distractions.” He picked up a leaf and began to meticulously shred it into tiny pieces.
Farthing shook his head. “I begin to think that the pair of ye are mad. All this time that ye have been locked up in Duncoille together and ye havenae talked to each other? I thought ye were going to woo the lass.”
“I was wooing her—gently, carefully. Howbeit, rare was the time that I got any chance for wooing.”
“It sounds as if ye were so gentle and careful when ye did have the chance that she probably doesnae ken that she was being wooed.”
“And just when did a lecher like ye become such an expert on courtship and love?” Gamel was beginning to feel highly insulted, an emotion fed by the irritating suspicion that Farthing was right.
“I ne’er claimed to be an expert, but it doesnae take much to see that ye and Sine Catriona are managing this business verra poorly indeed. I will tell ye something else ye willnae like to hear—ye pick a poor time to talk about your marriage.”
“What do ye mean? Sine will be safe. Her enemies will be defeated. She will finally have the time to think on other matters.” Gamel leapt to his feet and scowled toward Dorchabeinn.
“Aye—like the burying of her mother.” Farthing nodded when Gamel whirled to stare at him, then cursed. “I wondered if ye had forgotten what the price of our victory may be.”
“Nay, not truly. I but forgot who Arabel is. I find it verra difficult to think of that shewolf as Sine’s mother, despite how chillingly alike they are in appearance. So, I must wait some more. I grow verra weary of waiting.”
“I have begun to notice that ye dinnae do it weel,” drawled Farthing, watching Gamel pace back and forth over a tiny square of ground.
Before Gamel could respond, Sir Lesley said, “I think the shadows are deep enough to hide us now.”
After a quick look around, Gamel nodded, surprised at how engrossed he had become in his bickering with Farthing. He absently checked his sword and, keeping within the shadows he had so impatiently waited for, he made his way toward the secret entrance into Dorchabeinn. With each step he took he became more tense, more afraid that he was about to discover that Martin had betrayed them. He sagged faintly with relief when they reached the entrance. The door was neatly hidden at the base of a large boulder a few yards away from the walls of Dorchabeinn. Martin had kept his promise and left it propped ajar just enough for Gamel to get a grip on it and heft it open.
Blane was the first to slip inside. He lit a torch and the others crept in one by one. Gamel was the last to enter, carefully easing the door shut behind him. The passage was tall enough for them to stand in, but so narrow that they were forced into single file. In the dim light from Blane’s torch, Gamel could see everyone looking back at him, waiting for his command.
“’Tis no place to be faced with a fight,” whispered Farthing, who stood in front of Gamel.
“Nay,” muttered Gamel. “’Twould be easy to cut us down as we step out.”
“Dinnae worry on that, sir,” said Blane. “If I step out and find a trap, ye will be warned of it loudly.”
“Weel, so far Martin Robertson has kept his word.” Gamel waved Blane onward. “Lead us out of here, Blane.”
As they walked along the slowly rising passage, Gamel was a little dismayed at the noise they made. They wore their lightest armor, but there was still the occasional sound of the metal clinking as they walked, as well as the occasional scrape of a scabbard against the stone wall. The sound of their booted feet seemed deafening as it echoed through the narrow tunnel. Gamel prayed that it was merely his imagination which caused each noise they made to sound so dangerously loud. If it was as thunderous as it seemed, they had lost all chance of surprising their enemy within minutes after entering the passage.
“She is here, lass,” said Lord William, lightly touching Sine on the arm to draw her attention back to the walls of Dorchabeinn.
Sine looked up and grimaced. Arabel’s very posture conveyed the woman’s triumph. A small part of Sine had hoped that Arabel would not play the game out, that her mother would realize she had gone too far and retreat. It was all too clear that that small hope had been in vain.
“There was no need to bring an army,” Arabel called down.
“The journey here can be verra treacherous,” Sine replied. “So many cutthroats and thieves roam about. One must protect oneself against a dagger in the back.”
“How wise of ye. Have ye decided to come home then? Where is your fine husband? I dinnae see him.”
“Did ye really expect him to escort me when I am leaving him?”
“Verra weel said, lass,” murmured Lord William.
“Thank ye, m’lord,” she replied in an equally soft voice.
“I ne’er asked ye to leave the mon,” Arabel said.
“Nay? Ye said that ye could have the marriage set aside. Ye made your displeasure clear. When I chose to come here to Dorchabeinn, Gamel saw it as desertion. And, may I say, your kind invitation didnae include him.”
“A landless bastard is a poor choice for my daughter.”
Arabel was clearly trying to goad Lord William, but when Sine glanced at the man, he winked and said, “She is wrong—Gamel isnae landless. Tell her ye wish to see the twins.”
“Ere I accept your generous hospitality, I wish to see the twins.”
“Ye can see them when ye come inside Dorchabeinn. They are here,” Arabel said.
“Nay, I believe I should see them first. If they are truly there, then it shouldnae be any trouble to show them to us.”
“If ye insist.”
“I believe I must.”
As Arabel sent a man to get the twins, Sine turned to Lord William. “’Tis hard to keep talking as if all were cordial between us.”
“Ye are doing verra weel, lass. We are wasting a fine piece of time here. That can only help us.”
“Aye, I ken it. ’Tis all that keeps me from screaming accusations and making some demands of my own. I but pray that Martin has done as he promised.” She did not care to think about how much depended upon it.
“I think he has or we should have heard something from Gamel and the others by now. True, ’tis barely nightfall, but they have the shadows they need and we are holding everyone’s attention.”
She nodded, then grew tense as her brothers were dragged to the parapets, their movements stiff and awkward and their clothes shabby. “Sweet Mary!” she exclaimed.
Lord William frowned. “They dinnae look weel, poor laddies. They probably had to endure a night in the dungeon.”
“Aye, and they have been beaten.” Sine needed to take several deep breaths to control her anger, for even from a distance she could see the swelling and bruising on the boys’ faces. “There was no need to beat them so. Arabel did that for her own pleasure.”
“Here are the boys,” called Arabel. “Now, I believe ’tis time ye came inside.”
“Release the boys first. This was to be a trade. I return to Dorchabeinn and ye set the twins free.”
“Nay, I think not. If I free them ere ye are inside, I cannae be sure that ye will honor your part in the trade. Ye could easily just take the children and run back to Duncoille.”
“If I do as ye suggest, Arabel, then ye could hold me and the children, breaking your part of the bargain. Mayhaps the trade should be made partway between.”
“Nay. Ye will enter Dorchabeinn. Inside these walls is where the exchange must be made. To meet halfway between would require that my gates be held open for longer than I can allow.” Arabel gave an abrupt signal and the twins were led away. “Come along, Sine Catriona, and dismiss your army.”
“We will wait for the twins, m’lady,” Lord William yelled.
“There is no need to do that. I can provide the lads with an escort to Duncoille.”
“Dinnae trouble yourself, m’lady. We will camp here for the night and ye can send the lads out to us at dawn.”
“Please yourself. Now get in here, Sine Catriona. I grow verra weary of this game.”
Sine sighed. Clearly, they had bought as much time as they could. And if Sine’s warriors lost the day, it mattered little whether Arabel kept the twins. They would all be massacred anyway. Lord William gave her an encouraging pat on the back and she started to ride toward the gates of Dorchabeinn. It did not surprise her to see Arabel leave her place on the walls. The woman did not like to expose herself to her enemies. She suspected Arabel also wished to be ensconced in the great hall to greet her long-lost daughter appropriately—like some queen condescending to heed a serf’s petition for justice.
As she neared the walls, the gates were eased open just enough to allow one rider through. For a brief moment, Sine fought the urge to bolt, to get as far away from Arabel as she could. The only thing that gave her the courage to ride into the keep was the recollection of how her brothers had looked upon the walls—bruised and unsteady. She prayed that Gamel and his men had enough time.