“But where can ye possibly take them?”
“Near a mile down the burn is a wee bothy. I have used it before when I wished my flock to have a time of eating something besides grain. Doing their own food hunting now and then keeps them strong, healthy for them, I think. I willnae be gone long.”
“How do ye plan to get them out without being seen? Or heard?”
“No one watching the burn side. Why would they? They think ’tis naught but a cliffside what with the walls going right down to the rock which already rises out of the water a fair height. I think that fool has also wasted so many men that he doesnae have the ones needed to watch such a place he doesnae think we can escape from anyway.”
“Weel, if ye are certain it is safe, then I wish ye luck with it.”
“Oh, I will be back once I get this lot settled and hide this somewhere.” She pointed to the heavy sack slung over her back. “Sir Ned is making verra certain that as many of the things that are worth some coin are being taken out of here. It gets a wee bit darker and they will start moving some of the people.”
“Have we given up then?” Annys had known it might happen for Sir Adam had them badly outnumbered yet no one had come to wake her from her rest and even ask her about it.
“Och, nay.” Big Mary frowned. “Weel, aye, in a way. It doesnae look good for us, m’lady.” Big Mary stepped closer and patted Annys on the arm. “Aye, we havenae lost too many men because your mon trained them weel in how to protect themselves against arrows and fight off a mon trying to get o’er our walls, but we do have a lot of wounded, some we may yet lose. That filth kicking at our walls has a lot more men than we do and Sir Nathan said the mon could probably get e’en more if he felt he needed them.”
“Even more? We will all die here,” she whispered and then struggled to throw aside her fear.
“Nay we willnae because your mon doesnae believe in that. Says if we die, Sir Adam gets it all and we willnae be able to do anything about it. But, if we survive, we need but work to get it back. So, Sir Ned said we need to get the slow ones out now, start moving out the wounded, the old ones, the bairns who need carrying and anyone who cannae run and keep running. We will start as soon as the sun sets.”
“And the valuables?” Annys wished someone had just taken a minute to waken her and tell her they were making such important decisions, if only because it was a little embarrassing to be told something so important from the goose girl.
“Sir Ned and our men decided they wouldnae let the mon fill his coffers with the selling of such things. They also sent a lad to the drovers and herders watching o’er most of our livestock and Sir Harcourt sent word with the lad to tell those men where they needed to head for. Then we found ourselves a few boats and are making some litters for the wounded who cannae walk.” Big Mary paused in her listings and shrugged. “Ye ken who needs more time to flee an enemy. Then if the able ones see that all is lost at the walls, they will run but, when ’tis all said and done, we will be leaving that filth with naught but empty buildings.”
“’Tis really quite brilliant,” Annys said. “The more I hear, the more annoyed I get that someone didnae come and awaken me so that I could have been of some help.”
“Nay, m’lady, ye needed the rest.”
“Aye, I ken I did, but I hate having missed something so important.”
“’Tis important and people are working hard to see it all done. We were all grieving, thinking we had lost when he told us we had to leave but then your mon said we cannae just think on the lost battle. Said we will have a win now by leaving the mon naught but all these empty buildings. Said the true riches of Glencullaich were its people, that our work and skills are what make it such a fine place and that that filth can ne’er replace us. And, since we will be taking all we can that is valuable, he willnae have a quick way to get the coin to even try. Dunnie is sad that he cannae save the horses though. I am verra sad that we probably willnae be able to take our dead with us.”
“That grieves me as weel. I had planned to bury them on the hill with the laird, David, so that they could look down on all they had helped to save.” She saw Big Mary grimace and her eyes turn shiny with tears.
“Their families would have been so verra proud of their men up there with their laird. I will pray that that may yet come to pass.”
“So will I, Mary. Now, best get that verra weel-behaved flock of yours out of here. I will go see if I have missed anything else.”
“Weel, at least ye dinnae have to fret o’er that lamb or the cat.” Big Mary’s lips twitched. “Your mon told Dunnie to see if he could fix up something so that those two cursed beasties could be moved fast and without the worry that they might run off.”