“I am.” Her pale blue eyes glittered with determination, and sunlight danced off her red curls.
He wanted to thread his fingers through her tresses to see if they were as silky as they looked. No doubt, he’d get an arrow in his bollocks if he tried. “The lad has worked hard, as he said. I dinna have a reason to say nay aside from my concern at his age.”
“Ye’re in command. Ye could’ve said nay without reason.”
“Do ye think he would have accepted it?” William met the challenge of her gaze.
She gave an irritated sigh and tossed her curls over her shoulder. It was answer enough. He knew she understood even if she refused to admit it. An idea struck him.
He resumed walking toward camp once more. “I’ll have him stay back with ye.”
“I beg yer pardon?” She rushed to catch up with him.
“He can stay back in the woods with ye. I’ve seen how he looks up to ye. Take advantage of that admiration and show him how to be a proper archer.” William shrugged. “It will get him in battle like he wants but also keep him safe. Like we want.”
She pressed her lips, quiet a moment as she considered. “Aye. I’ll do it.”
“Thank ye.” He smiled at her in appreciation. Despite her fierceness, there was a tender side to her. It was a balance within her that appealed to him greatly. “Now, let’s get some food.”
Fib met them as they neared camp, his face bright with excitement. “We need to attack tonight.”
His words took William aback. “What do ye mean?”
Duff joined them and scratched his thick dark beard. “We nearly ran headlong into several guards on our way back to camp. We were no’ seen but overheard a plan to shift soldiers deeper into Scotland tonight. The replacements coming up from England are delayed by weather and willna arrive until the following day.” He slid a look of irritation at Fib. “The lad is correct. If we want the advantage, we should attack tonight.”
5
William gathered his men that night and made for Mabrick castle. Even as he did so, the action didn’t sit well with him. He preferred more reconnaissance, a chance to understand better the activity and numbers within the castle.
However, not only did this night present fewer guards, the moon was blanketed behind a curtain of clouds, which would further mask their attack. It would be their best opportunity for victory. To squander such a chance would be foolish.
With only the main gate as an entry point into the castle, they would scale the walls with grappling hooks. Kinsey would be hiding in the outlying forest with Fib, shooting at the guards as they attacked William and his men.
It would not be an easy conquest. Taking a castle was always risky. William knew that. But if they could claim Mabrick Castle, William’s worth would be proven to his king. And to his father.
They waited to attack until the dead of night when most would be sleeping. William and his men assumed their positions in the forest, crouched down in wait.
A lone guard walked the parapet, his head visible above the crenellations. After he passed, time dragged on at an excruciating crawl as they waited for another. The whisper of leaves brushing against one another in the breeze was the only sound to be heard.
They saw no one else until the same man reappeared a while later. William waited until he had passed.
“Now,” William said as loud as he dared.
His men were like hunting dogs straining at their leads, shooting off across the stretch of lawn to the castle. Their fiercest soldiers, including him, Reid and Duff, launched the grappling hooks simultaneously. They spun the weighted end three times and, with a nod to one another, sent the heavy iron sailing up into the sky and over the crenellations where they raked across the stone and held.
The sound was harsh in the quiet stillness, but it was swift, with each hook catching at almost the same time.
William tugged his rope to ensure it held. It did. He tightened his grip and put first one foot, then the other to the pockmarked stone. As quickly as he dared, he began to scale the castle wall along with several of his men.
He was nearly halfway up when the lone soldier gave a shout of alarm.
An arrow flew from the forest, and the cry was cut short.
There wouldn’t be much time now. Hand over hand, William climbed, his gloves gripping the coarse rope with ease while his legs helped brace his weight.
“Cut the lines,” one of the men called out.
The stomp of rushed footsteps came over the side of the wall, indicating more guards had arrived. Another arrow was launched from the forest.
“Faster,” Reid ground out as he hastened.
William’s arms and back were on fire with the effort of climbing; the soles of his leather boots gripped the wall to the best of their ability. Though they were close to the top, they still had some distance to go. His grunts of effort mixed with those of his men.
They were near enough now to hear which arrows missed as they skittered across the stone, and which hit with a quiet thunk and a gritted cry from its victim.
The rope in William’s hands vibrated with the effort of someone sawing at the thickly woven fibers.
His heart slammed harder in his chest, and he moved past the exhaustion of his muscles.
Finally, William reached the top. He threw one leg over the crenellation as he drew his sword, plunging it into the neck of a guard who was furiously cutting at the rope of his grappling hook. The man staggered back and fell.
A glance below confirmed Reid was two handgrips away from joining William, and only one other man, called Alec, held on to a rope near the top. William launched at the guard trying to slice through Duff’s rope.
Reid was at William’s side as he ran his blade through
