Reid met his eye and slipped away, apparently being of the same mind and worry for Kinsey. When he returned with her at his side, she was missing her helm and covered in blood. Her fingers clutched her bow with a white-knuckled grip.
Fear stabbed through William. “Have ye been hurt?” he asked in a low voice for her ears only.
“Nay.” Her jaw set. “An English soldier attacked me, but I had my dagger.”
William looked to Reid, who nodded in confirmation. The soldier was dead. By Kinsey’s hand.
Her expression was hard. William knew the look well. It was of a soldier set on ignoring what she’d seen. What she’d done.
She wanted out of here as badly as he did, no doubt.
Mayhap more so.
“I dinna know about the lot of ye,” William said to his band of men. “But I could use an ale.”
It was as good an excuse as any, and the resounding cheer told him his men were eager to indulge. William jerked his head toward Edinburgh, indicating they should make their way back to the inn. The men didn’t need to be told twice.
Kinsey didn’t speak to anyone on their journey or upon their arrival at the inn. He hesitated before approaching her. Usually, women liked to talk about their troubles. Some preferred to do as he did, mulling over their thoughts, working at them until the rough edges had been rolled smooth. But Kinsey was different than any other woman he’d ever known, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle her.
He caught her attention before she climbed the stairs to the rented rooms. “Are ye well, Kinsey?”
Her tunic was stained with blood, and crimson dots spotted her face and neck. Her pale blue eyes were wide in her face, her lips tucked against one another tightly. She nodded.
Reid appeared then, looking apologetic. “Laird MacLeod has summoned ye to the castle.”
“Aye, in a moment.” William knew he probably didn’t have even that much time. But his reply was enough to satisfy Reid, who made his way up the stairs to remove his chainmail and wash after the battle.
William wished he could do likewise. His skin was gritty beneath the gambeson that kept the chainmail from chaffing.
He put a hand on Kinsey’s shoulder. “If ye dinna want to come to the castle to celebrate later, dinna feel like—”
“I’m well.” She gave him a tight smile. “I’ll be there.”
He hesitated, hating that he had to see his father at the castle. “Until then, my lady.” He offered her a bow, and she didn’t even bother to roll her eyes.
Aye, she was certainly not well as she claimed.
Back at Edinburgh Castle, his father, as well as other lairds, chieftains and earls, all met with the king in the Great Hall while wearing their battle dress. The king was young, more lad than man at only seventeen.
The high ceiling arched over them all, the thick, heavy beams as decorative as they were functional. The scent of meadowsweet lingered in the air, suggesting the rushes had been changed recently.
King David paced in his royal armor, his surcoat stained with blood and smoke and sweat from leading his men into Lothian. His eyes flashed with excitement as he spoke of their victory and his expectation that the men should be ready to move soon. This time, they’d raid the English territories through Northumberland, before laying siege to Newcastle.
Which left only one day to strategize.
But while all the other men nodded in agreement, William could not stifle his doubt. “We need more than a day to plan.”
His father shot him a stern look.
“The English have a new weapon,” William continued. “’Tis called the pot-de-fer. It can shoot a bolt with such power that it cleaves through men, sometimes two at once.”
Several of the men looked askance at one another.
King David regarded William thoughtfully. His chin was speckled with the fuzzy hair of adolescence. “Our victory today was almost easy.” He smirked. “I appreciate yer consideration but I am confident in my decision. We leave in two days.” He nodded with finality. “Prepare yer men.”
Everyone seated at the large table rose. William made his way to the exit, eager to return to the inn. Not only to clean the filth of war from his skin and to take off the damnably uncomfortable chainmail but to see to Kinsey. She’d weighed on his thoughts as King David planned their next moves.
“William,” Laird MacLeod ground out. “Dinna ever question the king.”
William gritted his teeth. “The weapon needs to be taken into consideration. If Mabrick Castle had one—”
“And ye’re a skilled enough soldier to offer the king advice?” His father’s eyes narrowed. “Ye were defeated. What if he asked ye about that before all these men?”
“Then I’d have answered truthfully. Who better to know what to expect than someone who had failed?” He held his father’s gaze, but Laird MacLeod’s mouth pulled down in a frown.
Irritation burned through William. He was man enough to realize his mistakes and be better in the future for them. The king was playing a dangerous game, and they were all pawns.
William shoved aside his anger and strode in the opposite direction of his father. The king caught his eye and waved him over with a curl of his finger.
William approached and hoped his annoyance didn’t show on his face.
“Sir William, is it?” The king lifted his brows, assuming an air of pretension that looked ridiculous on so young a man.
“Aye, my liege.” William folded his arms behind his back.
“I appreciate ye speaking yer mind,” the king said. “What do ye know of this weapon?”
“I believe the English are arming their castles with it,” William replied. “I canna say how mobile it is, but ’tis far more powerful than anything I’ve seen before.”
King David’s eye narrowed as if the concept of such a thing physically pained him. “Yer army knows what to look for with this weapon?”
“Aye, Yer Majesty.”
The king touched the side of his forefinger to his
