Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
B ut that hope soon died. For in response to the offer, Gregory shouted an obscene phrase, urging Ewan and his men to go forth and multiply, before he hawked and spat over the wall. The slimy gobbet landed a few feet from the hooves of Ewan’s horse. Isla stared at it, her fear for her brother’s life starting to turn to anger at his stubborn refusal to see sense, with the enemy standing at the gates.
This was a version of Gregory she had not known existed. She was appalled that he would risk his own life and those of the entire clan in this show of bravado and brinkmanship. She clenched her fists around the reins tightly, fighting down the urge to yell up at him to stop being a stubborn fool, that this was his chance to ditch Allan, make an agreement with Ewan, and prevent further bloodshed.
Just talk with Ewan, she silently willed her brother, put an end to this bloody war that Allan started!
Now she also feared that the gross insult that lay glistening on the ground in front of him would be too much for Ewan to bear. She waited, holding her breath, expecting a furious response. But once again, Ewan surprised her.
“Ach come on, man, use yer head. Ye ken this war we’ve been fightin’ and dyin’ fer is all fer the sake of a mad man, a man hungry fer gold and power. The man’s a liar through and through, nae more than a brigand. Those lands he stole from me, I have the deeds tae them here, passed down from faither tae son, provin’ they belong tae me, written in King David’s own hand.” He patted his breast, just above his heart.
I’m a reasonable man. An honest man. I dinnae wantae see anyone die, nae fer the sake of that cheatin’ snake. If I give me name tae a peace treaty with ye and call off this attack, ye can trust I’d die rather than break it. But Allan, well… ye’re puttin’ yer faith in the wrong place with him. Now, come down and open yer gates. Let’s talk about it over a dram like two rational men.”
Isla stared at him in amazement, finding his arguments not only convincing but also moving. She had always been given to believe Ewan Ballentine was a hard man, a man bent on destruction, as she had been bent on his. But just as she was seeing another side to her brother, so she was also seeing another to their sworn enemy. This dogged attempt on his part to win peace despite all the insults was a revelation.
Respect for him burgeoned in her breast, and she was astonished to find her loyalties wavering. But once more her fragile hope that Gregory would agree to Ewan’s offer was quickly dashed. From the battlements, he yelled a stream of foul invective. Then he shouted defiantly, “Ye’re the liar, Ballentine, with yer weasel words. Take yer peace and shove it where the sun dinnae shine! Dae yer worst. This place is impenetrable. Nay army alive can breach our defenses. Me advice is tae crawl back intae the hole ye came from and take yer rag-tag bunch of cut-throats with ye, before I give the order tae cut ye down where ye stand.”
A silence full of tension fell. Even the birdsong had ceased. Isla put a hand to her chest, finding it hard to draw breath, she was so frightened by the harsh response. She looked at Ewan and knew Gregory had missed the chance for peace. The enemy laird sat quite still in the saddle, his face unreadable but for an almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. But it was his eyes that told her all hope was lost. Already dark, they had darkened even further. They appeared as hard as marble and devoid of life.
Finally, he raised his head to the battlements and shouted up, “I gave ye a chance, Galbraith, but I can see ye’ve been taken in by Allan’s lies. Ye’ll live tae regret refusin’ me offer. Ye see, I dinnae need tae lift a sword tae defeat ye. I can simply starve ye and yer people out like rats. See how they thank ye fer that.”
Calmly, he turned his horse, and the others followed suit, including Isla.
A siege … He never meant tae attack the castle at all. That’s what he intended when he said his plans depended on Gregory. And now Gregory has refused tae make peace, he’s gonnae lay siege tae the castle and starve them out! Unless Allan sends men, Gregory is as good as dead!
The mood among the rest of the party was as somber as her own as they rode back to where Ewan’s army was waiting beyond the ridge. When they got there, Ewan and Colin conversed in low tones for several minutes. Then, the laird barked out a few orders, Colin made sure they were carried out, and within a very short time, the entire army rode down to the castle and spread out, making camp on the meadow before the gates, well out of musket range.
For Isla, the whole thing passed in a sort of dream. Her outer silence concealed a tumult of confusing emotions warring inside her. It was painful to be forced to question Gregory’s judgement. It felt like betrayal. And it came all the harder because she knew she shared Ewan’s desire for peace. But despite that, he was still the enemy.
Fer Gregory’ sake and the sake of me clan, ’tis more important than ever that I kill him.
Night settled over the camp. Smoke from many cooking fires and the smell of food hung in the air, and the mood among the men was quiet as things began winding down. In his tent, Ewan sat down at the table sharing a simple supper of roasted fish—freshly caught in the nearby Loch Galbraith—with his captive Annie Dean. Or rather, Harris, as the would-be assassin was now known to his men.
They had hardly spoken since making camp, and Ewan found himself grateful for her silence. He had enough to think about, for he was sorely disappointed Galbraith had refused to make peace. He had really held out a lot of hope that the man would see sense. But once again, Allan had done his evil work.
The only thing he could feel glad about was that no one had died that day from fighting. A siege situation was not ideal, he knew, but it was better than more senseless bloodshed. Defeat and death seemed inevitable for Galbraith—that was as long as Allan did not turn up with reinforcements. He wished the lie he had told Galbraith about killing the messenger had been true.
But he was fairly confident that his assessment of Allan’s motives was correct. He had no doubt the corrupt laird would arrive at some point, but it would be when it suited him and his plans.
I just need long enough tae either persuade Galbraith tae agree tae a peace treaty with me or starve him out. And then, I’ll go after Allan.
However, intent on his thoughts and plans as he was, he could not help noticing how serious Annie seemed. Her expression had remained downcast since the army had moved down to the castle grounds. And though he knew she must be as hungry as he was, she showed little enthusiasm for eating her fish. It struck him as sharp contrast to the way she had polished off her the porridge that morning at breakfast.
But though he was curious about her subdued mood, he was too tired to ask about it. After he had eaten and she had pushed morsels of fish about her plate for a while and they had drunk their tea, he stood up.
“Time tae turn in,” he told her, picking up the ropes he had used to bind her the night before.
“Please, nay, dinnae tie me again. I cannae stand it,” she protested.
It was hard to resist the pleading look in her luminous eyes, but he knew he had to do it. He shook his head. “I cannae take the risk.”
“I’ve done everything ye asked of me today, have I nae?”
“Aye, ye have, but it was only last night ye tried tae stick me with yer knife.”
“I promised I wouldnae try that again.”
“And I promise tae keep ye safe as long as ye obey me.”
She nodded and meekly let him tie her wrists before going over to the cot. She sighed as she heeled off her boots and lay down. Following her, Ewan stripped down to his shirt and trews, tied her ankles—once more securing the rope binding her hands to his wrist—and lay down next to her.
With the candle snuffed out, the darkness enclosed them. She lay on her side facing away from him, unmoving. He wondered what she was thinking about. She had promised not to try to kill him again, and she had obeyed his every command that day.
Yet she still hasnae told me the truth about who sent her tae murder me. Whether it was Allan, or anyone else, I’d be a bloody fool tae trust her an inch.
For a while he stared sightlessly into the blackness, listening to her breathing. Only when he heard it become slow and regular, and he was sure she was asleep, did he allow himself to relax and do the same.
For the next two days and nights, he kept her tied up, only releasing her to eat, wash, answer the calls of nature, or perform the occasional menial task like brush his coat or polish his boots or make tea. She remained subdued the entire time, and when she was not doing something, she lay on the cot, sleeping or staring up at the canvas ceiling, hardly speaking a word.
With the siege in progress, nothing moved inside the castle. Apart from making sure camp discipline was followed, Ewan occupied himself by reading, sleeping, maintaining his weapons, and working silently on his plans. Alongside the siege, these involved waiting for the scouts he had sent north to track down Allan’s whereabouts and return with that vital intelligence. Mostly, he forgot Annie was even there, she was so quiet. But from time to time, he would look over at her and wonder when she would relent and tell him the truth about herself.
Two more days passed without much incident. During the late evening of the second day, he and Annie were alone in the tent, sharing a meal of roasted carp, once again caught fresh that day in Loch Galbraith. He was used to Annie being quiet, but he could not help noticing on this occasion that she seemed truly downcast.
Her expression was sad, she kept her eyes on her plate, and he saw she had hardly touched her fish. In fact, she was pushing it about her plate as if she had no appetite.
Perhaps she daesnae like fish.
But he sensed there was more to it than that.
He observed her covertly as he ate, trying to work out what was bothering her, apart from being his captive, that was. His attention was drawn to her left forearm, which was lying on the table as she ate with her right hand. A slight movement made the cuff of her shirtsleeve ride up an inch or two. He was shocked to see the red, raised welts circling her wrist, clearly the result of him binding her with ropes each night. It stood to reason that her other wrist and her ankles must be in a similar poor state.
He was immediately awash with guilt for treating a woman so roughly, without regard for the tenderness of her skin, never mind she had tried to murder him. That must have been hurtin’ her a lot. Nay wonder she was down. How could he not have noticed it before? Silently berating himself for his inattention, he resolved to do something about it at once.
Reaching across, he gently took hold of her forearm above the wrist.
“What are ye doin’?” she asked, trying to pull her arm away. But he held it firmly and drew it towards him, closer to the candlelight, so he could examine the wounds more closely.
“Let me see,” he told her, turning her wrist about, being careful not to hurt her further. She realized then what he was doing and allowed him to inspect the wounds. He was shocked to see the welts were starting to ooze thick yellow liquid. That meant it would not be long before infection set in. If he did not act immediately, the consequences could be very serious for her.
“Show me the other one,” he ordered, releasing her arm. She put down her knife and showed him her other wrist. As he feared, it was in exactly the same condition. “And yer ankles.” She did as he instructed, pulling up the cuffs of her trousers and rolling down her woolen stockings, displaying the same raw, raised welts around her ankles.
“All right,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve seen enough.”
“Does that mean ye’ll nae tie me up any more?” she asked, her beautiful eyes luminous in the candlelight as she looked across at him pleadingly.
He thought for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Clearly, he could not allow the situation to continue. But by the same token, she could not be trusted not to try to attack him again if he dispensed with her bonds completely. Since he had no idea of her intentions towards him despite her promises, the ropes were the only insurance he had of remaining safe unless he stayed awake all night, which was out of the question.
He sighed again and met her eyes. “I’m sorry ye’ve had tae put up with that. I had nay idea they were so bad. But look, ye ken why I cannae let ye go free at nights?—”
She made a sound that was halfway between a sob and a curse.
“—but I will dae something tae help ease yer wounds. Stay there.”
He got up from the table, fetched a bowl of cold water and some clean cloths and brought them back. After adding a little salt to the water and stirring it about, he knelt by her at the table and proceeded to gently bathe her wounds. As he worked, he silently marveled at her fine-boned wrists and ankles and the tender white softness of her skin. Fleetingly, he wished they could have met under better circumstances.
When he had finished, he looked up at her, about to ask if it felt better. But when he did so, he saw she was studying him intently with those big eyes of hers. She looked away at once, her cheeks darkening in the candlelight. It took his breath away, for in truth, she looked… stunning.
Yet at the same time, there had been something steely in her gaze which disturbed him. Nay, I cannae trust her, he thought again, not without some regret this time.
“Is that better?” he asked, pushing the bowl and the cloth aside.
“Aye, I suppose so. Thank ye. It still hurts though and keeps me awake. And it’ll just be worse again in the mornin’,” she replied rather mournfully.
With her sad eyes and some stray golden curls peeping out from under her cap, she looked positively angelic. But despite his guilt for inflicting such discomfort upon her, Ewan had a suspicion he was being manipulated. Instantly, he was on guard again.
“Well, I’m sorry about that, but I’ll nae be made tae feel bad fer what’s yer own fault. If the boot was on the other foot, ye’d dae the same. In fact, ye’d probably have killed me by now. Ye’re gettin’ off lightly.”
She exhaled sharply and shook her head as though in disbelief.
“But I have an idea that will help,” he went on, seeking a compromise that would not end up with him getting his throat cut while he slept. He tore some of the cloths into strips and bound them carefully around the wounds, to protect them from the rough chafing of the ropes. He hated himself for doing it, but could see no other way but to tie her again in order to secure her for the night when they went to bed.
“Look,” Annie said the next morning after Ewan untied the ropes and she peeled back the cloths. “’Tis gettin’ worse. And ’tis the same on me ankles.”
Ewan inspected her wrists and ankles and had to admit she was right. If she got an infection, he was not sure he would be able to forgive himself. He was temporarily at a loss as to what to do.
Once again, she tried all her arguments to persuade him to let her go without being tied. “I swear I’ll nae run away.”
“Aye, but how can ye expect me tae believe ye when ye say ye willnae try tae kill me again?”
“How would I kill ye? Ye’ve taken me knife, and ye’ve hidden all the weapons,” she countered.
“Ye could brain me with the kettle,” he suggested.
“Ach! With a skull as thick as yers, it would be the kettle that came off worse!”
The notion was so preposterous, he found himself smiling. She smiled too. As they gazed at each other, he thought how beautiful she was when she smiled. Her whole face lit up.
He felt something melt inside his chest, a piece of ice falling away from something frozen. It was a sensation that was new to him, and it scared him that this woman, a stranger who had tried to end his life, could do that to him.
He looked at the wounds on her wrists again, wondering whether to trust her. “Dae ye swear on yer life nae tae leave me sight?”
“I already promised that, and I’ve stuck tae it too,” she pointed out. “But if it pleases ye, aye, I swear it on me life.”
“Ye also need tae consider what will happen if ye try tae attack me again. Yen ken me men will be quick to kill ye if ye try anythin’. And dinnae forget that any soldier who finds a woman wandering around a military camp like this will assume ye’re fer hire.” He gave her his sternest warning look.
“I’ve nae forgotten. I’m sorry I tried tae kill ye before. It was naethin’ personal, just fer the money. I give ye me word nae tae try tae hurt ye again.”
“Yer word means little when I still dinnae ken who ye really are,” he pointed out, his resolve weakening, nevertheless.
“Ye dae ken who I am,” she replied, all innocence. “I’m Annie Dean. Or Harris, a soldier in yer army. I can help ye in yer fight.”
He smiled again, not taking her claim seriously, but he came to a decision. “All right, I’m prepared tae trust ye enough tae leave off with the ropes. But the second ye step out of line…”
“I’ll nae step out of line, ye’ll see,” she cried, her face lighting up. “I’ll prove tae ye that I’m trustworthy. Just give me a chance.”
“I just said I would, did I nae?” he told her, hoping he was making the right choice and it would not cost him his life. “Now, sit there. I’m gonnae get some stuff tae clean yer wounds. I have some salve that’ll make sure they dinnae get infected. It’ll help with the bruising and the scarring too.” He rose and went to get water, cloths, and the salve and brought them back to the table.
“Och, thank ye, ye dinnae ken how grateful I am!” she said, her face wreathed in smiles as he proceeded to gently bathe her wrists and ankles, strangely moved by the softness of her skin and the delicacy of her bones. For all she dressed like a youth and hid her femininity, underneath, he could tell she was all woman.