Chapter 24 #2
The poor guard crumpled to the floor, and the food tray she’d begged for, cried and sobbed for, despite the hour, and because she was ‘so famished,’ crashed next to him.
Glenna leapt down from the chair and ran out of the tower, almost flying down the stairs.
She moved through the hallway in the dark and started down the main stairs to the great hall, keeping to the wall.
A door flew open below and someone was running into the hall. “De Hay! A messenger!”
Glenna ran back up the stairs and into the hallway, looking for a place to hide. Across the narrow gallery, she hid in a small niche covered with a tapestry. But it only ended at her knees. She stood with her back pressed against the niche and prayed it was dark enough for no one to notice.
“My lord! My lord!” came the call, and she heard two men run up the stairs. Someone pounded on the chamber door of her captor.
De Hay’s gruff voice called out for them to enter.
She stood hidden, her heart beating away time, knowing how little she had left. She had to escape. She would not be the power for her father’s enemies or the tool to bring him down, no matter who or what kind of man he might wed her to.
There was a sudden and loud call to arms.
She mentally groaned. Caught again!
But from here abovestairs, men were running past and down into the great hall.
The clank of weapons and boots, excited voices, and calls to get their mounts ready told her this was something other than her escape.
The noise below was waning, so she shifted and tried to look out.
There was no one about, but the door to de Hay’s chamber was open and she could hear the men talking.
Moving quickly, she headed for the chamber next to his, slipped inside, and sidestepped a large cache of weapons thrown on the floor. She hid behind a clothing rod hung with men’s robes and tunics. Breathing softly, heart beating hard, she slid a robe aside and took a look.
The room was completely empty, except for a long desk and chair and a massive carved wood bed that dominated the center of the room.
But no one else was there now, though the bed linens were tossed aside and appeared slept in.
She stepped out from behind the clothing, wondering how she could possibly escape.
The clang of weaponry came up from below and male voices filled the hallway.
A sudden sound of running steps from the tower made her freeze.
“She’s escaped!” The guard’s voice came through the hall. “She‘s escaped!”
Panicking, she dropped to the floor and crawled under the large bed, and was immediately assailed with the strong odor of urine. Wincing, she pushed the pisspot away from her head. A man came inside the room and she watched his feet. He stopped at the clothes rod and he began to dress quickly.
Glenna held her breath, afraid he would hear. She dared not move.
A loud curse came from the next chamber and de Hay bellowed, “Can you idiots not keep one woman locked inside that tower?”
“She hit me in the head with a laver!”
“Find her! Now!” There was a pause, then he shouted, “Frasyr!”
“Aye? In here!” the man in room called out, and de Hay came inside.
“Your cousin has sent for aid. They have been attacked. I must ride, and ride hard, yet I cannot leave until I know she is secured,” de Hay said angrily and he began to pace. “How can one feeble woman cause so much trouble?”
I am not feeble, she thought. You witless oaf.
“I would guess she is not the meek, slow-witted lamb she appeared to be,” Frasyr said.
She smiled.
“Of course she is not.” De Hay stopped pacing. “You will have to stay to keep her safe. I cannot risk taking her outside this stronghold. Your defenses here are strong. I trust you can keep her secure without my troops.”
“No siege could take Kinnesswood.,” Frasyr boasted.
“Aye, she is safest here…as long as we can manage to keep her locked up,” de Hay said dryly. “You might want to shackle her to the bed.”
“Spread-eagle,” Frasyr said, laughing.
“You forget yourself, “ de Hay said without humor. “She is still the daughter of a king, whether or not we support his right to rule. No harm must come to her.”
“I was jesting. I am well aware of her price.”
“I expect her to remain unharmed…and untouched. You do understand?”
“Aye,” Frasyr said with quiet seriousness. “She will be safe here. I give you my word.”
They spoke of Frasyr’s cousin, the king of Argyll, but she stopped listening when four grey furry feet padded into the room. The feet stopped beside the bed. The guard cat was back. The beast went down on its haunches and stared at her. “Meow…”
Bugger! Glenna wiggled away, back toward the head of the bed.
“Meow, meow, meow, meow….”
There was long, telling break of silence, and she had nowhere else to run, then both men were on either side of the bed looking at her from narrowed, angry eyes.
Never had she been intimidated by male anger. She didn’t give in, but scooted all the back against the wall. They grasped for her but she moved out of reach, so they split up to each side of the bed, moving closer and grabbing for an arm or leg.
She scampered back and forth, until they were half under the bed with her and she shimmied down for the foot of the bed, but one of them got a leg, and another, an arm.
They tried to drag her out, but she fought madly, kicking and biting, clinging madly to the support ropes on the bed, as more men came and they each pulled and yanked until her poor body felt stretched to the breaking point and her strength waned.
Her arm slipped from the ropes, burning her skin as she was dragged out, still kicking and flailing.
At the last moment she grabbed the pisspot and threw it on the man who pulled out by her ankles.
Sir Coll Frasyr dropped her and cursed so loudly his voice echoed overhead.
She swung her feet up and kicked the other man hard in the jaw, scurried up, pulled her knife and faced eight men, while more men came running in the room.
Frasyr was dripping in yellow piss and his face was almost blue he was so angry.
She looked from one man to another. Where was de Hay?
She shifted, her weight on the balls of her feet, searching the crowd of male faces, the knife poised to strike. “Any one of you tries to touch me and you’ll find yourself gelded.”
She felt a sword tip at her back. “Drop the knife,” de Hay said.
“You will not harm me. I am worth too much to you.”
“What you do not understand is I can, and will, wound you enough to make you drop the knife. You are caught. There is no escape. Look around you. A wise woman would do as I ask. And I do not believe you are without wits.” He pressed the sword into her back, deeper.
She did not budge. He pushed it deeper, and deeper. She stood unflinchingly strong.
And he pushed harder. The sword cut into her. She cried out at the pain, but reacted instinctively and gripped the knife even tighter, pulled back, felt the sword tip pop free, and she spun and threw the knife at him.
De Hay sidestepped and the knife flew past him to stick with a loud thud in the wall. “Take her!” he ordered through a tight jaw and slammed his sword into the floor.
The first man who grabbed her she bit, hanging onto his skin with her jaw clamped tight and she heard him hiss in pain, and then yell when she bit even deeper.
The second she kicked in the groin, the ribs, and the jaw, then there were more men pulling at her, strong hands and arms everywhere.
She twisted and scratched and pounded with her fists, and kicked hard with her feet, but too soon her strength was gone and futile against so many.
She had the will and the determination. But she did not have enough hands and feet to fight them all.
The sun was rising when the gates opened again and a large troop of men rode out of the castle and began crossing the lake in large numbers, on three ferry barges, one after another.
“Huchon de Hay,” Ramsey said under his breath as if the name was profanity, but he made no motion to arm or give chase as the men rode onto shore and gathered, ready to ride.
“You will not go after them?”
Ramsey shook his head. “My duty is to claim and safeguard the king’s eldest daughter.” To Lyall he turned and said, “You say you have a way inside. The position of the keep is near impossible to lay siege. Since you are the reason she is not safely tucked away at Rossie, I will hear your plan.”
His stepfather sarcasm was not lost to him, but Lyall’s mistakes were done, so he refused to cower and or labor over what he could not change.
He told them of his conversation with Frasyr’s man, then explained that along with Glenna’s brothers and their horses, they could infiltrate Kinnesswood under the pretext of offering the horses for sale to Frasyr’s man.
His stepfather listened without comment, then joined the discussion and questioned him about the lay of things inside the gates, and the plans began to grow, take form, and become the single path that made the most sense, except for the matter of trusting him.
“How do we know you will not give us up to Frasyr?” Elgin Gordon asked, eyeing Lyall with contempt.
“You cannot know,” Lyall said. “But without me, neither have you a chance in hell to get inside, so you have little choice.”