Chapter 19
Alexander didna ken which was worse: a small room bursting at its seams with braw battle-ready men or the feeling he had verra little control o’er the mêlée about to ensue. And then there was Catriona. His wife. He felt a tender protectiveness toward her like he’d never known for anyone and it scared the living hell out of him because here she sat, damn smack middle of the fray.
“The plan?” Graham nudged himself in between Magnus and Duncan and joined them in leaning back against the only wall in the tiny room bereft of furniture. Sutherland, Alasdair, Ian, and the priest perched on opposite sides of the shoddy narrow cot at the room’s center, their backs butted against each other. Catriona and Sawny stood wedged in the far corner between the modest nightstand and the wall. Graham scrubbed his hands together before folding his arms across his chest. “I assume the chieftain, Hew, and Duff are the first we must handle, aye?”
“Aye,” Alexander answered with a concerned glance at Catriona. He hoped she truly realized that her brother would die this day. “Calum and his guards first. Then we’ll judge the future actions of the Neal clan and go from there.”
“And when the others arrive?” Alasdair asked. “Campbell’s group and the king’s regiment?”
“'Tis my hope that enough Neals from the village and surrounding crofts will join the ones in the keep siding with us and we’ll be able to hold them off long enough to reason with them and reach an understanding.” Alexander surveyed his men and their fierce scowls. Their loyalty was unquestionable and for that, Alexander was thankful. “We have the advantage inside the stronghold and we know where its weaknesses lay because we’ve breached it ourselves.”
“Noon is upon us. Calum should soon descend from his solar to eat his meal in the main hall.” Catriona glanced out the narrow window they had all skirted to avoid discovery.
“Can ye be certain?” Ian asked. “Did your father no' make it a habit to eat in his rooms? I never set eyes on the man during our stay here.”
“The man was dying,” Magnus interjected. “That’s why he ate in his rooms.” He shifted his attention to Catriona. “Your brother be healthy but loves the drink as well. Think ye he’ll descend for the noonday repast or wait till the last meal of the day?”
“Oh, he’ll descend,” Catriona said, a wry note of disgust coloring her tone. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw worked as though she were grinding her teeth. “He’ll no' want to miss an opportunity to preen like a peacock in his new status as chief.”
“What route will he take to the hall?” Alexander asked. Calum’s chambers were here on the second floor but that didna mean he’d pass this room on his way down to his meal.
Catriona’s scowl deepened then she elbowed her way out of the corner and shooed the men off the small cot. “Move.”
“Move? Where?” Father William scuttled sideways, stumbling over booted feet and bumping into men.
“I dinna care, Father, but I need this linen to make a map.” She motioned toward the cold hearth. “Pray, see if there’s a stick of burnt wood I can use.”
Sutherland squatted down beside the hearth, taking care to keep his sheathed sword vertical and out from under anyone’s kilt. He dug around in the cold ashes of a long-ago fire and after a few moments, rose with a smile of victory and a chunk of blackened wood. He handed it over to Catriona who set to sketching out the floor plan of the keep on the linen across the bed. “We are here.” She pointed to a mark then trailed her finger along a line and tapped on another open-ended square. “This is Calum’s suite.”
Alexander squeezed his way closer, committing Catriona’s sketch to memory. He pointed to a horizontal line running between the two squares then veering off to the right. “This will be his route?”
Catriona nodded, eyes narrowing as she studied the crude map as though it led to treasure.
“We will flank them here and here.” Alexander tapped on the linen, pointing to small open-ended blocks at intervals along the hall. He lifted his gaze from the sheet and looked at his brothers. “I want him dead afore he reaches those stairs.”
“Sutherland and I will take out his pets,” Duncan said with a nod down at the map. “They always follow a step or two behind the man, close enough to sniff at his arse.”
“Daggers and swords only,” Alexander said. “We dinna wish to announce our presence with gunfire.”
“I get the first stab at him,” Sawny said, bloodlust reddening his thin freckled cheeks.
Alexander understood the boy’s need for revenge but they couldna risk it. “I know ye wish to avenge Murtagh, lad, but I’ve a better way for ye to accomplish that, ye ken?”
Sawny glared at him, a stubborn pout already pulling down the corners of his mouth.
Alexander handed Sawny his short sword. “I need ye to guard your mistress. I’m trusting ye to protect my wife. Will ye do that for me, Sawny? Can I trust ye to keep her safe?”
Sawny’s demeanor changed with the swiftness of a blink. He shifted from a sullen lad to a proud, solemn young man. “Aye,” he said with a downward jerk of his chin. “I’ll keep her safe. I swear it.”
Graham cracked open the door to the hallway, listened for a moment then looked back at Alexander. “Shall we take our posts then, brother?”
“Aye.” Alexander stabbed the sheet with the tip of his dagger. “I’ll be waiting here for Calum.” Pointing first at each of the men and then to the sheet, he assigned them their positions. “Duncan and Sutherland, this door just past his solar. Dinna let those beasts get by ye. Alasdair and Ian, guard the base of the stairwell in case anyone harkens any cries to alarm. Graham and Magnus, take either end of the hall at the top of the stairs in case any of them make it past Alasdair or Ian.” With seven men against three, Alexander felt sure that Calum would kneel before his Maker before nightfall.
“And what about us?” Father William asked.
“Stay here with Sawny and Catriona and pray we dinna fail.” He took hold of Catriona’s hand and pulled her to stand in front of him. “Swear ye willna enter the hall no matter what ye hear, ye ken?” He could tell by the look on her face that Catriona wanted to be in the fight's midst but he couldna allow it. He couldna fight at his best if he had to keep one eye trained on her. “Swear it,” he repeated.
She stared at him for a long moment. So long, he felt for sure she was about to defy him and the first heated argument of their short marriage would ensue. “I swear it,” she finally said in a strained tone then tiptoed and pressed an urgent kiss to his mouth. “Swear ye’ll come back for me,” she demanded, her lips and nose brushing his as she spoke.
