Bear looked at the army in front of the walls again. “These are nay our people e’en if there are some MacQueens amongst them. They dinnae care about those bairns and women in the nursery, the lads too young to fight setting buckets of water and sand near anything that might catch fire. That greedy fool sitting there waiting to talk to our lady only cares that this land can fill his purse with more money to buy whores and fine clothes. Och, aye, we will all fight because we want what we have—a good life and kenning the laird cares for each and every one of us.”
Harcourt nodded. He also studied the army spread out before them. There were the men with the scaling ladders just behind the archers. It would begin with a rain of arrows. In the confusion caused by that, the men on the walls and elsewhere simply trying to stay alive, the ladders would be set up against the walls. Their chance to fight back would come only when the men on the ladders began to obstruct the archers. It was going to be bloody and the fact that there was little he could do to change that enraged him. The sound of the bell announcing Annys headed up to the walls was all that stopped him from giving in to the urge to order Geordie to put an arrow through Sir Adam’s black heart now.
“Oh, sweet mother of God.”
It took every last shred of control Harcourt had not to pull Annys into his arms to try to comfort her. She stared out at the army, her eyes wide with shock, and her face as white as frost. Even she, with no knowledge of wars and tactics, could see that they were badly outnumbered. Bear patted her on the back and, that quickly, a thread of amusement broke his deep concern for her. A movement of her skirts told him she had braced herself the moment Bear had moved his hand toward her but she didn’t flinch. It was clear to see that she had been patted by Bear before and knew it was necessary to brace herself or risk being knocked over.
“It will be fine, m’lady,” Bear said. “Ne’er forget, everyone stands with ye. Every single person in Glencullaich.”
“Thank ye, Bear. ’Tis good to hear. And, dinnae worry, I ken what this is about. ’Tis nay just me. Nay e’en just about Benet. ’Tis about holding fast to what we all have. ’Tis for Glencullaich.” She was surprised to hear a ripple of hearty agreement go along the walls as each man there heard what was being said.
Straightening her shoulders, Annys stepped close to the wall and stared down at Sir Adam. He looked quite handsome on his horse but she knew that handsomeness truly was only skin deep. Below that covering, in his heart and soul, he was vain and greedy.
“Good morning, Cousin,” she said, infusing as much cheerfulness into her voice as she could muster. “I hear ye have something ye wish to say to me.”
Sir Adam rode a little closer again. “This can end here and now,” he said. “There is nay a need for your people to be harmed or the property damaged in any way. Hand over Glencullaich to the rightful heir and ye can leave unharmed, as can your hired swords.”
“Hired swords?” She looked around. “I have no hired swords, sir. That appears to be your way, but it isnae mine. I have merely friends who seek to aid a poor, defenseless woman against someone who wishes to take what isnae his.”
“I am the rightful heir! Nay that boy! We all ken David wasnae the sire.”
“We do? I believe ye are the only one who keeps saying that.”
“Because ’tis the truth! We all ken that Sir Robert MacLeoid gelded him years ago.”
Annys stared at the man, an icy chill flowing through her body. David had once said that he always wondered how Sir Robert MacLeoid and his men had come to hunt him down, that he was almost certain he had never bedded the man’s wife. He had doubts only because he knew he had been a randy fool, often drank too much, and did not have the best recollection of what women he had bedded. Despite that, he had never been able to dismiss an unease about the attack. Now she knew why. Sir Adam had set MacLeoid on David. It was entirely possible that David had been brutally punished for a crime he had never committed. It was also now evident that Sir Adam had been trying to rid Glencullaich of heirs for a very long time.
“Gelded?” she asked, and tapped her chin with one finger as if considering the possibility. “Being that I am a lady and cannae use certain words, let me just assure ye of your error with the assertion that David was a mon. Fully, completely, and utterly a mon. As his wife, I believe I would be the best one to ken that fact, aye?”
“Ye have two choices, woman. Ye freely give o’er Glencullaich to me or ye watch your people die.”
“Actually, there is another choice. I could say nay and watch ye and your army fall before my walls.”
“Ye think ye can win this battle?”