“He is. He’s a good leader, and the men trust him. He would have had the same ideas as ye. He just didna think of them as quickly. Are ye going to the kitchens?”
“Eventually. Where will ye be?”
“Inside the gate. I’ll help keep them from breeching it, and I’ll be there to fight if they do.”
“Besides the portcullis, what do we have to protect the gate?” It would take a long time, but a battering ram would break through the wood posts of the mobile gate and the massive wood doors. At Angus’s blank stare, Abigail grabbed his hand and pulled him outside. “How many wagons do we have?”
“Between what’s here and what’s in the village, aboot a score.”
“Get them in here. When it’s time to seal the gates, get them flipped on their sides and stacked three and four deep and just as high. Take the wheels off the remaining ones or flip them upside down and push them to lock into with the bottom ones.” Abigail made a “t” with one palm and the fingertips of the other. “Stack bales of hay to the side if you can. Position archers on them to pick off any MacLeods who makes it through.”
“Ma lady?”
“Aye?” Abigail asked, distracted now as she looked around the bailey, searching for anything that needed moving or reinforcing.
“Does the laird ken ye can lead an army?”
“What?” Abigail looked back at Angus’s grinning face.
“Lady MacKinnon, I thank the blessed saints I’m on yer side. I dinna ken how many battles ye saw on Lewis, but ye ken all that needs doing and then some.”
“It’s been since before my father died that anyone tried to attack Stornoway, but I remember more than I realized. I remember what I heard my father and Kieran ordering. I guess it came back to me. I haven’t been thinking aboot how I came up with these ideas.”
“Ye’re a bright lass, ma lady.” Angus grinned once more before he went to order the wagons into place. Abigail climbed the steps to the battlements once more, pleased to see the ice and snow gone from the brick walkways. She searched for the first guard she’d spoken to. When she spotted Timothy, she made her way to him.
“How much longer?”
“Mayhap a quarter hour, ma lady,” Timothy said without taking his eyes off the approaching enemy. Abigail noticed the boats appeared larger and knew they were drawing closer. She turned to look in the opposite direction.
“The men are returning with the villagers.” Abigail pointed when Timothy moved to see. “Are all the boats back? Fishermen and rescuers?”
“Aye.”
“Thank you.” Abigail swept her eyes along the battlements until she found Norman. She gritted her teeth but wound through the hurrying men until she reached him. She kept her tone even, wanting to give the man the benefit of the doubt. She had no reason not to trust Ronan’s judgment if he’d made the man a commander. “Do you or the men need aught?”
“Nay, ma lady. Thank you for the food and water.” Norman appeared sincerely appreciative.
“Can we seal the gates after the last of the villagers come through the postern?”
“Aye. That’s the plan.”
Abigail looked at the battlement walls for a moment as her brow furrowed with a thought. She pressed her lips together between her teeth as she considered her idea. “They’ll likely use grappling hooks and ladders, won’t they?”
“That’s what we expect.”
“I’ve been rushing around too much to notice, but now that I’m standing still, it’s bluidy perishing out here. Water’ll freeze within a few minutes of being out here. Can we pour water along the top and outsides of the wall? The ice’ll make it impossible to keep the ladders from slipping, and the grappling hooks will have a hard time catching. We can use the tar to keep most of them from climbing.”
“We can do the outsides, but I will nae do the tops. I dinna need any of our men sliding over the sides when they reach out to keep the MacLeods from breeching.”
“Do your men have time to fill buckets, or should I have some women help?”
“Ma men will do it. Get yerself and the women locked away, Lady MacKinnon.”
“Thank you, Norman.”
“Ye’re welcome, ma lady.” Norman smiled, and Abigail feared his face would crack. But she returned it, hoping any animosity she’d created earlier would ease.
Abigail went to the granary and watched as mothers and children climbed down the ladder before pulling it away from the opening. Abigail closed the hatch before sticking her head outside and asking two men to move barrels and crates over the trapdoor, hiding it from sight. She noticed the chain of men passing water buckets up to the wall walk and heard the splash of the liquid hitting the brick walls. She went into the kitchens, but the women were already gone.
