“Swords it is,” said Elizabeth. “Give Kuni her dagger back. She has a limited supply, and I have a plethora of rapiers. Unless you’d prefer a battle-axe?”
Philippa returned the dagger. “That’s a contingency plan to the contingency plan. I’d rather leave the bloodying of enemies to you.”
Elizabeth flashed her teeth in a cobra-like grin. “With pleasure. Today, we defend Castle Harbrook to the death.”
Adrian blanched. “Uh…”
“She means Reddington’s death,” Kuni assured him.
“Nobody’s death,” Jacob reminded them all. “Both sides agreed to no murdering.”
“That leaves plenty of room for damage,” Philippa pointed out. “Even if Reddington keeps his word.”
“Wait.” Graham placed a palm against the stone wall and leaned out the window. “I hear—”
“Horses! Reddingtondidsummon the cavalry.” Elizabeth strode over to the loophole to look.
But it was not a second squadron of soldiers that came into view. The dirt road before the castle suddenly filled with hackney carriages, out of which spilled dozens of spectators with picnic blankets, opera glasses… and conspicuous slips of paper in their hands.
Stephen sputtered in disbelief. “Reddington soldtickets? To a legally dubious violent attack against his neighbor?”
Of course he had. Elizabeth had requested an impartial witness, had she not? Now there were dozens of them.
“Contingency number fourteen,” Graham said. “A public battle royal.”
“We cannot allow innocent bystanders to be harmed,” Stephen warned them.
“They’ll be safe,” Elizabeth said. “No one would be foolish enough to venture into the line of fire.”
They watched with trepidation as more carriages arrived, along with several pockets of chattering onlookers on foot.
“Crowds can be dangerous,” Stephen said.
“Especially crowds rooting for the enemy,” Graham agreed. “Easily stirred to mob violence.”
“Will Reddington take care not to harm them?” Jacob asked.
Stephen considered this. “I think so. He wants to be admired and celebrated. Which won’t happen if he’s perceived as the bully tyrannizing innocent unarmed citizens.”
Outside, so many arrows struck the door that it sounded as though it were raining.
“Do something,” Philippa whispered.
Elizabeth pointed the speaking trumpet through the window loophole. “Your Grace! Such unsportsmanlike conduct does not befit a gentleman such as yourself. You agreed that both sides would have an equal number of representatives, not nine ordinary people versus an army of… Fifty? Sixty?”
There was a pause. Then, “One hundred and four soldiers.”
“That’s it,” Philippa whispered. “We’re doomed.”
Stephen shared the same sentiment.
Elizabeth raised the speaking trumpet. “There are witnesses all around you. Your opponent has no army. No arrows. No cannons. Do you think anyone will respect you for perpetrating a massacre on a handful of unarmed civilians? The public will vilify you. No one will attend your reenactments, save to jeer and throw rotten fruit.”
An even longer pause. Then, “You cannot expect me to forfeit all of my advantages. This is a siege, not tea with the Queen.”
“You gave your word. No more than nine of you versus the nine of us. Should a blade draw blood, that soldier is out. The first general to yield, loses. And to ensure fairness, there shall be no arrows, no bullets, and no cannonballs.”
“Just because you couldn’t outfit and prepare a proper army—”
