"What did the lass say to leave ye looking as if ye have been pole-axed?"
"Naught, Sholto," Tavis replied, shaking free of his shock, yet discovering that he did not want to believe his own words. "Only sweet words to make a man fight all the harder so that the battle will end and he can be back with her. They didnae mean more than that."
"Are ye certain?" Sholto had an idea of exactly what Storm had said.
"Aye. She says such things because of what I maun face." He started toward the battlements. "That which we best get to ere it begins without us."
All was tense and quiet upon the walls of Caraidland. The men watched Sir Hugh's forces gather with an eye to guessing his strategy. Each one knew that they were weak, were up against great odds and could well lose the day. Although each knew it, they faced the knowledge bravely, prepared to fight to the last man. The bringing down of Caraidland would cost Sir Hugh dearly indeed.
Tavis's eyes were fixed upon Sir Hugh's men, but his thoughts were with Storm. He wanted her words to be true, wanted her to be bound to him in that way. It was more than the way she could heat his blood with just a look, then cool the fire in the most satisfying way he had ever known. Never had he liked so much about one woman, from the color of her eyes to the extent of her independent nature. Not since Mary had he thought of settling to one woman, of marriage and family. If Storm truly meant what she had said, was not just mouthing sweet words to give him added strength of spirit to face the battle, all that could be possible. He could feel secure in binding himself to her, for he knew that, if Storm truly loved him, he need never worry about another man.
He forced his mind to concentrate upon the battle he faced. Distraction at such a time could prove fatal. More than ever before he was reluctant to die. He had too much to live for, too much left unsaid. There had to be time left to him to speak to Storm, to speak of more than how much his body continually craved hers.
* * * * *
Sir Hugh mounted his destrier as Lady Mary looked on. As the time of battle drew near, her blood ran hot. At times she wished she were a man so that she could join in the fighting. However, she gained more than enough satisfaction from watching the fight and could be content with that. She could stand at a safe distance and savor the sight of men fighting a life and death struggle, revel in the violence and death played out before her eyes. It left her with a voracious carnal appetite and, with her husband now gone, she could be completely free to sate it as she saw fit. The need for some discretion in the past had severely curbed her creativity.
"Slaughter them to a man, Hugh," she said coldly.
Although he had been savoring that very plan, he resented her ordering him to do so. "I was just about to offer them a last chance to surrender. 'Tis customary to do so."
"Then do so. They will say nay. I know it. E'en if they say yea, should that stop you? An I have learned anything in this wretched land, 'tis that the English here feel it their Godly duty to slay the Scots. No one would fault you if that is what you fear."
"I do not care for what others think." He scowled down at her. "There are rules to follow in war, Mary. Whate'er else I may be or have become, I am a knight." He could not bring himself to offer terms of surrender and then, if they were accepted, cut down the unsuspecting.
"They are Scots. 'Tis not necessary to deal honorably with them. It seems to me that you take up or toss aside these rules as suits you. These are MacLagans, border reivers. You do not deal honorably with such scum. If you rid the world of the curse of their presence, you will only be thought a hero. None will question how it was done.
"I want them dead, Hugh. I want that ugly pile of rock razed to the ground. They are naught but a burr in my side. I grow tired of trying to shake free. They have stolen from me, and I mean to take everything from them. 'Tis a fair payment to my mind.
"Do you forget how they have injured you? Do you forget that shameful ride back into Hagaleah, all the laughter at your cost? Do you forget that they stole the fine, costly stallion you had only just gained? They also stole the mare you meant to breed, and I speak not of the four-legged ones but of Storm. Tavis MacLagan rides your mare, mayhaps e'en sets a MacLagan foal in her belly. By holding her, he also holds your fortune, holds the land you crave but have never owned. They, too, laugh at you. How much scorn must you bear before you act as you should and avenge yourself?"
"No more," he snarled. "Cease your speeches, woman. You have won your way. E'en an I must draw them from Caraidland through treachery, I will see them all dead. This day will mark the end of the arrogant, troublesome MacLagans. This land will turn red with their blood."
She smiled as he rode off. Soon the MacLagans would bother her no more. She had no doubts about who would gain the victory today. Hugh was a skilled fighter and the MacLagans were greatly out-numbered. She had spied the women upon the battlements taking the night watch and knew what that meant. What men
