She nodded in acknowledgement. “Althel, we must do all we can to secure this floor. Will you help me?”
He nodded eagerly. “The only windows are in the solar. The rest of them are high in the gallery or on the top floor.”
“Is there any way to secure the windows in the solar?”
Althel nodded. “There are shutters.”
“Then we must close them.”
She followed Althel into the solar where there were indeed shutters that flanked the two small lancet windows that opened onto the bailey. Before they secured the first window, Toby dared to look out at the chaos in the bailey; men were pouring over the wall from the siege tower they had managed to prop against it. There was heavy fighting upon the battlements and she could hear violent clashes of sword against sword. Off to the right, high on the wall near the gate tower, she could see a big knight in combat with several soldiers and assumed it was Stephen. But her eyes were searching for Tate.
She didn’t have long to search; she spied him on the wall right where the siege engine was lodged, battling the men who were pouring in from the tower. She could tell it was him because she recognized the armor. As she watched, he deftly threw men off the wall or used his skill to cut them down and cast them aside. Tate fought as if he would never tire; his dragon-hilted broadsword was both a weapon and a battering ram as he either shoved or gored the men coming at him. The longer she watched, the more she understood why the man was called Dragonblade; he fought with power rarely seen in mortal man. The only way to describe it was magical.
“My lady,” Althel was hovering at her side. “We must close this shutter.”
Toby nodded, though her eyes were still riveted to Tate. But smoke was starting to drift in the window and she knew it was because Kenneth had set fire to the stairs leading into the keep. With a final look at Tate battling valiantly on the wall, she slammed the shutters closed and Althel slid the bolt into place.
The two of them made their way back into the hall to continue tending the wounded, but not before Toby laid out a hasty plan for their situation. It would seem that with Wallace outside fighting, she was suddenly in charge.
“Where are the stores kept?” she asked the old servant.
The man motioned her over to a small alcove just off the great hall. There was a trap door which he opened, pointing down into the musty depths.
“Down there,” he said. “There is no way in there except for this door. The well is down there, too.”
Toby nodded shortly. “Good,” she said. “We will need to finish tending these men and then see what we can do about feeding them. Do you know what is down there?”
Althel nodded. “Two barrels of flour, six wheels of cheese, some dried apples and some other dried stores. Late summer harvests, mostly.”
“It will be put to use. Are there any weapons about?”
“Weapons, my lady?”
“Aye; in case the keep is breached.”
“Wallace keeps some weapons in the small room upstairs, next to the master’s chamber. He does not trust them in the armory. He says they disappear.”
Toby nodded, her gaze roaming the room, trying to think if there was anything she had left out. For the moment, they had weapons, fire and food. She knew they could survive for a little while at any rate.
“Then let us get about helping these men,” she said quietly, turning to look at the crowd in the room. “The rest is up to Sir Tate.”
Althel nodded as he and Toby parted company; she went to start on the men near the entry door while Althel went to the group positioned near the hearth. The smell of smoke was growing heavier in the hall as the wooden stairs outside the entry door were fully engulfed, but inside the hall, Toby felt relatively safe. She tried not to worry for Tate, doing battle in the bailey. She’d already lost so much in the past few days; to lose him, too, would only diminish her more. She wasn’t sure if she could take another death. She couldn’t even think about it.
All they could do now was wait.
*
The battle wenton well into the day. Dusk approached and still, the battle raged on. Toby knew that because she could still hear the fighting outside the solar windows. So far, no one had made a move to breach the keep but she was terrified to look outside, terrified to see what was going on. Terrified that she would see dead knights and terrified that one of them would be Tate.
Eventually, all of the men in the hall were tended. Some of them had died along the way. The dead had been grouped into a bunch tucked into a corner, far from the hearth and its radiant heat. Toby wasn’t sure how long they would be shut up with the bodies and she didn’t want the heat hastening the rotting process.
It had been dirty, hard work. Toby was exhausted but strangely, feeling stronger than she had in days. Her body seemed to be recovering from her bout with illness and the crescent shaped wounds on her wrist that her mother had given her were healing nicely. When she looked at the scabs, it seemed as if they had happened years ago. So much had taken place since then.
Since there were no women at Harbottle, the male servants had learned to do the cooking long ago. Althel had prepared a thin soup of boiled rabbit bones, some beans and dried carrots that he and Toby had been feeding to the men who were conscious. Toby noticed, as she moved from man to man, how young many of them were. All were vassals of Tate, most having been born on his lands. A few of the older men were retainers sworn to Tate from other parts of England, seasoned men that trained the younger. Toby finished feeding Tate’s men, her mind lingering increasingly on Tate and his progress outside.
When dusk finally settled into night and the hall grew dark except for the fire in the hearth, Toby moved to the darkened solar and listened to the sounds of the battle outside. It was an eerie sensation listening to the sounds of fighting intermingled with the cries of the wounded. She had never even been remotely close to a battle, living a simple and uncomplicated life at Forestburn. This had been a swift education in the realities of life. Toby huddled on the floor against the wall, her legs drawn up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees for warmth as she listened to the sounds of the struggle.
As time passed and she continued to sit, it seemed as if the sounds of battle were drawing nearer. She could hear shouts, cries, and clangs as metal met metal. The sounds drew closer still. Afraid that somehow the enemy had found a way to breach the keep, she moved quickly from the solar and up the treacherous stairs, finding the smaller chamber that Althel had told her was used for weapons storage. A pile of staffs lay upon the ground, some with broken tips and some with very sharp tips. Two large swords sat propped against a wall. As she fingered through the pile of staffs, she suddenly heard a loud crash on the floor below.
