"You are taking a considerable amount of time to bring down the MacLagans."
He glared at Lady Mary. "Would you like to have a try, m'lady?"
"I daresay I could not do any worse."
"You cannot seduce the Scots from the walls."
"Hugh, you grow tedious."
"Heed me, woman, stay to what you know—murder and the arts of the bedchamber," he hissed. "You know naught of battle, never have, save that it makes your nether eye weep with want. That hulking lump of stone is not just a place to eat and sleep. 'Twas built to resist just such an attack as this, and built with skill and art."
"Then try another form of attack."
"There is this or there is a siege. Do you wish to rest here for months?"
"It would not take months to break them." She looked around with clear distaste.
"Aye, m'lady, it could. We would suffer more than they, for we would be out here with winter closing in upon us. I assure you, they will have ample food and water within those cursed walls. There is no way I can judge how much, how long they could hold out against us. The longer we sat here, the greater the chance that we would meet the other half of their forces. I mean to avoid that."
It galled Lady Mary to do so, but she had to admit that Sir Hugh was right. She had forgotten that the MacLagans were at but half their strength, that the other half of their fighting force was at Athdara and could return at any moment. It was true that she knew little of war and the ways of fighting, but she decided she would learn as soon as possible. Never again would a man talk down to her as Sir Hugh was doing. She would not allow it. It robbed her of some of her power.
"Try not to kill all of our forces in the taking of that place," she said nastily before she moved away, returning to her shaded cart.
Cursing viciously, Sir Hugh watched her go. He realized he had shown her that she had a weakness, and he knew well how she would feel about that. Until he could soothe her ruffled feathers, he would have to watch her closely and eye all he ate with great care. She could easily decide to be rid of him, if only out of spite.
He turned his angry glare toward Caraidland. It and its defenders were proving far stronger that he had thought they would. They had cost him a lot of men, yet he was no closer to victory. If he kept losing men at such a rate, he would soon lose the numerical advantage he had arrived with. He would wait awhile and try again. Let them realize their own exhaustion. Without the stirring effects of battle to keep them going, they would soon feel how weary they were, how weary he knew they had to be. Then he would hit them again. If luck was with him and he timed it right, they would fall to him quickly, for they would not have the strength to repulse him.
Taking a moment from pondering his strategy, he ordered men to go and watch the way to Athdara. It had been unwise to pull the guard from that duty. He could not afford to be caught between two forces. The last thing he needed was some foe coming to strike at his flank.
* * * * *
"What is that whoreson doing now?" asked Colin as he joined Tavis upon the walls.
"Waiting."
"For what?"
"For our weariness to weigh us down, I think."
"Aye, that seems right. We are feeling it right enough."
" 'Tis unfortunate, but I feel the man has some skill. He seems to ken what to do and when to do it." Tavis glanced around at the men slumped along the wall. "They will soon find it hard to lift a sword."
"And that Sassanach bastard will swoop in to see that they ne'er lift another one. It has been a long time since I have faced such as this, and I could have gone to my grave happy without doing so."
Soon Hugh tried again. The MacLagans valiantly fought back the first wave of Englishmen that tried to surge over the walls of Caraidland. It cost them dearly, however. No matter how many Englishmen he took with him, each Scottish life lost brought Caraidland closer to destruction. They no longer had anything to hurl over the walls, could only continue to push the scaling ladders down, but the hands needed to do that grew fewer and fewer.
When Sir Hugh struck after another brief pause Tavis tasted the bitter gall of defeat. The English brought forth a battering ram, the machine well covered. He could almost wish they had chosen one of the many other siege weapons despite how deadly they could be. Scottish arrows were unable to penetrate the thick hide. Over the screams of men and the clang of steel against steel came the constant ominous sound of the battering ram. Unless it was stopped, it would soon break through the gates.
Tavis knew with a cold sense of certainty that they could not stop it. He began to order the men to fall back even as he heard the chilling sound of the thick wood of the gates splintering, accompanied by a cheer of triumph from the attacking forces. The English knew they would soon be victorious.
Storm cried out in surprise when Tavis and two other men suddenly burst into the tower room. She felt her heart enter her throat, for she realized what it meant. Sir Hugh had broken through, his men were taking or had taken the inner bailey.
