There was no hint of her fear or uncertainty in her voice when she replied, “Aye. So I give ye two choices now, sir. Ride away home or die. Here. In a vain, foolish attempt to steal this land.” She turned and started to leave only to turn back, glare down at Sir Adam, and point to the gravestone visible at the top of the hill overlooking them all. “And look there, Sir Adam, for there lies the mon ye had murdered. He will be watching, waiting to see ye pay for what ye have done and now try to do. And I mean to let him see ye die, here, on this ground while he watches over it all!”
She turned and marched away, stumbling only a little when the men on the walls cheered and banged their swords on their shields. Just as she stepped inside the door, out of sight of the men on the walls, she felt the first tear slide down her cheek. It would begin now. There was no way every man on those walls could survive and she had to find a way to accept that, to not bury herself in blame for it all. She gave a start when a piece of linen was placed in her hand and she looked up to find Joan watching her.
“Dinnae ye dare take this on your own shoulders, Annys,” Joan said as she took her by the hand and led her down the steps. “’Tis all on that bastard’s head. We heard him. T’was him that got David hurt, although I would wager his plan was for David to die. I also suspicion ’tis him that prevented us from getting Nigel back or e’en kenning his fate. And it wasnae just the men on the walls cheering when ye said our laird will be watching him die. We all did.”
Everyone was so fierce in the defense of Glencullaich, Annys thought. She needed to share that strength. Stopping when they reached her bedchamber, she patted her hair to make certain it was not too windblown and brushed down her skirts. Bellowed commands and a clatter against the walls of the keep made her tense but she shook aside the urge to go look.
“Best we get to work then, Joan,” she said. “It has begun.”
Harcourt watched Adam ride back to his men and start yelling orders. He cursed when he saw that the man had armed other men with bows, increasing the number of archers he had. The twenty hired archers were still the ones who needed to be taken down first, however. For now, their job was to stay alive until the rain of arrows about to descend upon them ended. The moment he saw the archers pull back on their bowstrings, he yelled out the command to take cover. Even as he crouched next to the wall and held his shield up to cover himself, he watched Bear get down off the walls with a grace and agility that was astonishing in a man of that size.
“Bastard needs killing,” grumbled Nathan from his side. “Needed it years ago if I am guessing the full meaning of what he was yelling at your lady.”
“Aye. I believe he set the jealous husband on David.” He winced as a cry from farther down the walls told him someone had been injured already. “Suspicion he thought the mon would just kill him.”
“Ladders up,” Nathan murmured when the clatter of wood on stone echoed all around them.
“Be ready. The moment the rain stops, on your feet with sword in hand,” he said to the man on his right. “Pass it down.” He could hear Nathan saying the same to the man next to him.
The sound of the deadly fall of arrows faded away minutes later. Harcourt used as much speed as he dared to rise to his feet, sword in hand. He had barely adjusted his shield to cover his chest when a man began to scramble over the wall. The man swung his sword but was in too awkward a position to be a real threat. Harcourt knocked the man’s sword aside and slammed him in the face with his shield. The man’s scream as he lost his balance and fell to the ground brought Harcourt no joy.
Cries from the men on the walls as well as from the ones they were sending to the ground filled the air. Harcourt could not afford to check on the men who fought with him, however, as Sir Adam was sending his men to the walls without pause. Considering the number of them plummeting to the ground to die or who were dead before they got there, Harcourt had to wonder why the men did not just stop no matter how much Sir Adam yelled at them. They were not MacQueens and he doubted Sir Adam paid that well. Then he saw Clyde on a horse, riding back and forth behind the men, his sword out, and several equally armed, grim-faced men riding with him. Clyde was driving the men forward like cattle to the slaughter.
Then he saw the arrow fly over their heads, the arrow’s tip a ball of flame, and cursed. “Geordie! Skewer those bastards!”
“Trying!”
Harcourt watched as the women and young boys, even some of the older girls, poured out of the keep to make sure no fire got a good start. Although he had to admire how efficiently they worked together, his heart clenched with dread. They were now in reach of the arrows. Refusing to let that prey on his mind, he turned back to the fight to keep the enemy from clearing the walls.