Whether because of her tone or everyone closing in on him, the man shoved it into her hand, dipped a respectful nod, then hurried back through the gatehouse tunnel.
“What does it say?” Euban shoved closer, his hot, rancid breath hitting her full in the face.
She turned away, covering her mouth and nose with the back of her hand. “I shall read it aloud from the platform.” As she passed Valan, he grabbed her arm.
“What do ye fear,Gallóglaigh?” Euban drawled. “Afraid the king has named me next laird because he discovered there are those who would dare challenge me?” His shoulders shook with his self-satisfied snickering. “In fact, I can almost guarantee ye that is what it says, since I came here straight from Kinghorn Castle where I paid my respects to His Majesty. I assured him I would be as loyal to him as my brother had been. Quite the important oath to the king, this being the borderlands and all.”
A choking knot of bile burned in Elspet’s throat. God help them all. Is that what Valan had been trying to tell her? She stumbled up the last step, barely catching herself before she fell across the landing.
“Mama!” Lady Beitris leapt to steady her, worry and confusion flashing in her eyes.
“I have failed ye, my daughter,” Elspet whispered. “Please forgive me.”
“Mama?”
“Open the damn message, woman.” Euban swaggered forward, his repugnant stench clearing a path all around him. He smiled up at Elspet, then grabbed his crotch and wet his sausage-like lips again. “Ye best get used to doing as ye are told.”
Valan lunged for the man and smashed his fist into his face.
“Valan!” Elspet cringed. The clan would surely rise against them. The courtyard already hummed with their rumblings.
Blood spurting from his nose, Euban clawed at Valan’s hold on his throat. His men jumped on Valan to pull him away but made little progress, only succeeding in foiling his efforts to beat their master senseless.
“MightyGallóglaigh,” William roared. “To arms!”
A wall of muscle surged forward. More of Euban’s men poured in through the tunnel. Bystanders fled out of their path. Chaos ruled Caerlaverock, filling Elspet with shame. “To the tower, Beitris. Sound the horns to stop this madness.”
Fisting her skirts out of the way, Beitris sped up the steps and into the hall to access the inner stair to the tower. A few moments later, the warning horn blew loud and long.
The brawling in the courtyard paused.
Elspet ripped her finger under the message’s seal and waved it overhead. “Cease yer fighting and listen!”
With all eyes locked on her, she smoothed open the folds and stared down at the flowery script. Her blood turned to ice as the meaning of the wordy prose became clear. Euban Maxwell had spoken the truth. The parchment bearing the king’s seal named him laird of Clan Maxwell to maintain peace among the clans and strengthen loyalties along the border.
She let it slip from her fingers and flutter to the ground. All was lost. There was naught she could do. Without a word, she turned and slowly climbed the stairs, coming to halt on the top landing. Euban would either order her and Beitris killed—or worse, keep them alive to torment. Head bowed, she prayed the vile dog would only send Valan and his men away and do them no harm. Her heart ached with the knowing that Valan wouldn’t go. A tear slipped down her cheek. Nay, her mighty warrior would die trying to save her.
William’s voice rang out, breaking through her fog of hopelessness as he read the order aloud. When he finished, silence filled the courtyard for a long moment before Euban’s loud, arrogant clapping echoed off the walls.
“Did I not tell ye?” he crowed. “Lock up these traitorous mercenaries. Every last one of them. And the whore and her daughter, too. All of them failed to protect ye. I will not.” Euban’s men surged forward. Even more shoved into the courtyard.
Beitris joined her on the landing but was armed with her bow. Before Elspet could stop her, she let loose an arrow. It found its mark in Euban. He fell back, writhing and bellowing as several rushed to his aid.
“Beitris! He is laird by the king’s order.” Elspet snatched the bow from her and yanked the quiver off her back. “Do ye wish to be hanged for treason?”
“I dinna care,” Beitris snapped. “He has no right.”
“To the cages with them!” Euban bellowed, once more on his feet, his bloody hand clutching the arrow still in his shoulder. “Beat the insolence out of the bitches, then hang them from the northeast tower so they can count the sunrises as they wither and die.”
“Feckin’ thing didna fly true.” Beitris tried to pull the bow from Elspet’s hands. “Give it to me before they reach us!”
“Nay, my daughter.” Elspet knocked an arrow and let it fly. “I shouldha done this years ago.”
One of Euban’s men shoved his master aside before the missile reached its mark. The arrow took that man down instead, burying deep in the base of his throat.
“Elspet!” Valan’s roar rang in her ears as the men closed in on her and Beitris.
Rough hands grabbed and jerked. A hard cuff across her mouth filled it with the coppery taste of blood. A blinding blow to her eye made it ache and swell. She pulled her dagger from its hidden nest between her breasts and started slashing. She knew they would torture and kill her, but by all the angels in Heaven above, she would not go down without a fight and knew in her heart Beitris would fight them as well. What cut her to the quick was that some of those beating her were the very people she had served all her life. How had she wronged them so badly as to make them turn on her?
