Impending battle always left apprehension pulling taut at warrior’s nerves. Mayhap she sensed that and wanted companionship.
The idea of being with her again elicited a thrill of eagerness inside him. Not just the anticipation of intimacy, but to be in her presence once more, to revel in her tenacity and the passion she held for life.
Preparing for the battle was a welcome and much-needed distraction from the emotions otherwise roiling around inside William. All of which rushed back at him now in a dizzying maelstrom of elation, hurt and hope.
She stopped before him and met his gaze, her face absent of affection or any other telling expression.
Something cold locked around his heart.
“After we take Mabrick Castle, I’ll be returning to Castleton,” she said flatly.
Castleton.
He would never see her again.
The news was a crushing blow. Not only had he lost Kinsey, but he’d also lost their archer. He shielded his emotion behind a nod of understanding.
He’d ruined any chance with her, and now he’d ruined his army as well.
She took a quiet breath, as though preparing to say more, when she gave a curt nod and strode off. Tempting though it was to recount the scant conversation in his mind over and over and over again, he had the details of their attack to plan.
He spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with Reid, perfecting the final details. The next day, just after the sun indicated noon, William and his men hid in the forest on the path leading to the castle entrance with Kinsey in the brush, her bow ready.
As expected, the rattle of wagon wheels rolling over the hard-packed trail echoed through the trees. It came into view with covered bales of hay and only one driver.
William held up a single finger to Reid, who refocused his attention on his target and leapt from the foliage like a wild cat, swift and silent. He caught the man before the merchant could even cry out, squeezing at his neck with a powerful forearm.
Alec jumped onto the wagon, controlling it as the man struggled before finally slumping forward. Reid dragged the merchant’s limp body from the carriage, where he was divested of his tunic, tied up and left in the forest to be found eventually. No more men needed to die than was necessary.
Reid appeared from the forest once more, wearing the man’s tunic, and climbed onto the cart as several men slid beneath the heavy canvas covering the hay. William stepped forward to join them when a gloved hand folded around his. He looked back to find Kinsey at his side in full chain and armor, per his orders.
It was almost impossible to make out her expression beneath her helm. “Be safe,” she whispered.
He gently ran his thumb over the back of her hand. Though he couldn’t feel the action any more than she could in their gloves, his memory recalled the silkiness of her skin. “And ye, my love.”
Her eyes widened, but he turned away.
The time had come to take Mabrick Castle.
And this time, he would not accept failure.
* * *
The anxiety gripping Kinsey had been unexpected. They had been in battle before, but not like this. Not after having been so soundly defeated on their last attempt.
William had explained that it didn’t appear the pot-de-fer had the ability to reach them from its position on the parapets. At the time, such information had put Kinsey at ease.
Her stare followed the wagon as it made its way toward the castle gates. Beneath the canvas were warriors who had become friends, as well as the man she loved.
There was no point in denying her feelings, even if she meant to run from them when this was all over.
The rest of the army that had not hidden in the wagon shifted closer toward the castle in preparation to storm inside the fortified walls once the portcullis opened. She nocked an arrow and waited for her chance to defend them.
It was almost impossible to keep her breathing even as the shout of an English guard calling down to Reid echoed in the damp air. Somehow, Reid managed to keep his accent neutral as he replied.
The guard’s response did not come immediately, and the stretch of silence filled with tension. At least for Kinsey.
The late November chill had left her teeth chattering only hours before. But now sweat prickled at her brow.
What if the guards didn’t believe Reid? What if they were suspicious and attacked the cart where William and the others lay defenseless beneath the canvas?
“Aye, come in then,” a man shouted from the castle wall.
Kinsey gasped out the breath she’d been holding.
A loud creaking groan sounded, and the iron portcullis slowly began to inch upward. Where fear had once presided, now Kinsey felt a surge of hope.
They’d done it.
Her back burned from holding the arrow in place, but she didn’t dare move. She would be their first line of defense until William and the men were inside.
Finally, the portcullis was raised enough for the wagon to pass under. Reid drove it into the bailey, stopping when he was almost completely through.
William and Duff jumped from the back with iron spears in hand. But they were not weapons. The spears were like double-ended tridents, with one end an open brace to catch the heavy gate, and the other flat with four thick arms branching out to hold it in place. These were lodged at the base of the portcullis as the other men leapt from the wagon and poured in from outside the castle walls.
The English did not hesitate to attack.
And Kinsey was ready.
She released her arrows, one after the other. Now, after having had experience in battle, she was better able to aim for debilitating injuries rather than kills. A kneecap, a hand, the arm they used to wield their weapon. It was far
