“Ole King Edward’ll surely make your laird one of the aristocracy, mate,” one of the English voices said. “Prolly an earl or the like. Either way, he’ll have a right good way of it what wif his siding with England.”
“England?” A Scot guffawed. “’Pears to me old Maxwell’s playin’ both sides. King Alexander extended our clan’s borders to the east and west. Heard the Maxwell say so m’self.”
Valan locked eyes with William and read his own thoughts in the man’s face. Euban Maxwell was not only a traitor to Scotland but England as well. The bastard intended to lend his loyalty to whichever side benefited him most, or both if he could get away with it.
“Orders, Constable?” hissed Gareth, one of their best archers.
“Orders, indeed.” Valan eyed the door. “We canna ambush them when they bring us food because I dinna think that cruel bastard ordered us fed and watered. Nothing was brought last night, nor when the sun rose.” He pushed away from the wall and moved closer to the tiny window too high on the outer wall to be of any use. Every man in the dank room watched him. “But then neither do I think he will leave us to rot, considering it be well into summer, and the stench would rise and join him in his chambers.”
“Surely, he might try and torture us?” the grinning warrior known as Mathis suggested. “That door will have to open, then.”
“Aye, but how long will he wait?” William asked. “Reckon he’ll give it a while in an attempt to weaken us?”
“That thought had occurred to me.” Valan returned to stand in front of the massive door and stared at it. Wide planks of oak reinforced with bands of iron. Unlike many prison doors, it contained no window or opening of any kind, and it was almost square rather than oblong. When the door was hung, the craftsmen left spaces at the top and bottom about four fingers wide. They could slide cups and bowls under the door, but he had no idea why the workmen had left that much space at the top. Poor design? Then it came to him, bringing him a victorious smile.
“Constable’s got it now,” said the mercenary known as Ruan from where he crouched in the corner. “Look at him.”
Every man in the crude room of stone rose to their feet, ready for anything.
Valan motioned for all of them to draw closer to the back wall. He spoke in a hushed tone to keep his voice from traveling. “When night falls and the fine gentlemen on the other side of that door have celebrated their fill, we shall put our backs into it and lift that door off its hinges.”
William jerked around as though startled by something behind him. He bent and patted the floor under the window high above their heads. “A message.” He pulled a tiny piece of parchment out from a hollow reed and handed it to Valan.
Valan unrolled it and held it high, angling it to catch enough light to make out the cramped words.Warned folk. Help sent. Help ladies when can. Please din leave me.He peered closer and reread it.
“What’s it say, m’lord?” Lachan, their best with a battle axe, squinted at the flowery writing. “That there’s a woman’s scrawl. Bet a groat on it.”
“What’s it say?” The whispered chant rippled through the men.
“Warned folk. Help sent. Help ladies when can. Please din leave me.” Valan rolled the parchment back up and stuffed it into the reed. “How did ye ken a message was inside?” he asked William.
“The tip of it was sticking out the end of the reed.”
“Good man.” Spirits lifting, Valan swept aside the rancid straw against the wall with the toe of his boot, dropped the reed in place, then buried it. “In case our escape this evening fails. We must not betray our unknown messenger.”
“Warned our folk,” William repeated. “The ones of us not captured?”
“Them the only ones here that be our folk,” Lachan said. “This be the tightest clan I have ever seen. Them there Maxwells dinna trust anyone not born into the clan.”
“They proved that well enough by turning on Lady Elspet.” Valan still couldn’t believe her own people had chosen Euban over her. “Damned fools.”
“And they sent for help,” William said, then shook his head. “Take a few days to get to Argyll and back for more sword arms.”
“Not with a man riding hard and trying to save his brethren.” Valan rubbed a finger back and forth across his bottom lip as he repeated the words in his head. “But who could help the ladies whilst they’re hanging in those cages?” He frowned up at the window. “It canna be Dullis. She’s loyal to Euban.”
“What about Lady Beitris’s maid?” William asked.
“Never met her.” He dimly recalled Elspet saying the woman’s name was Fiona. “It nay matters who it is as long as they get food and water to our ladies when they can.” That would buy them more time to escape by ensuring the survival of the women.
“Whoever it is doesna wish to stay here when we leave,” William said.
“Because they fear Euban’s wrath.” Valan kicked more straw and dirt over the message, making certain it was buried deep. “We will take them with us when we leave, even though I dinna plan on leaving that worm alive.”
“Perhaps we should,” William suggested with a smug grin.
Valan stared at him, wondering if he had already gone mad from confinement. “Perhaps we should?”
“Aye.” William winked and leaned back against the wall again. “I dinna believe our king takes kindly to those committing treason.”
