“I must go now.” He forced himself to stand and step away even though he loathed leaving her. With a last look around to ensure no danger lurked in the shadows, he slipped out into the courtyard. A subtle movement in the darkness beneath the eaves of the buildings across the way halted him. He pressed his back against the wall and remained motionless until he heard a low growl from a dog that wasn’t there. A different growl followed. Then after a moment or so, a yipping bark. The animal sounds were one of the many ways his warriors communicated when the situation warranted. Each of them now knew all had gathered. The time to attack was at hand.
He sprinted across the courtyard and joined the eight or so men creeping along the wall to the left of the banquet hall entrance. The rest of his warriors eased along the wall to the right. The noise inside had swelled to a loud, raucous pitch. Dangerously so. It was the sound of evil at work. Valan readied his sword and axe and gave Gareth the signal to follow with an arrow nocked in his bow. “Dinna kill the bastard,” he warned. “We wish to give Euban Maxwell a lovely lingering death in the cages.”
Gareth grinned and agreed with a single nod.
They slipped into the room. Not a single reveler noticed. Savage fury consumed Valan when he turned and saw why.
At the head of the room, on her back across the main table with her wrists and ankles bound to its legs, Beitris lay naked and sobbing.
Euban hovered over her, dribbling wine down between her breasts and her stomach, then bending to lick it up.
Valan ordered the attack with a downward slash of his sword.
Gareth’s aim was true as always.
The arrow split Euban’s outstretched tongue before it reached Beitris’s pale flesh. He roared and clutched at his mouth, stumbling backward off the pedestal. The hall erupted into drunken chaos. The sixteenGallóglaighswarmed.
Sword and axe stained red, Valan slashed his way to the front of the room, rounded the dais, and bore down on Euban. Instead of finishing the man with a humane slash of his sword, he dragged him over to the wide oak beam of the archway. With dead aim, he drove his dagger through Euban’s palm, nailing the bastard to the wood.
Unable to speak. Blood streaming down his front. Euban’s gurgling turned to hysterical shrieks as Valan thrust another dagger through his arm, pinning it to the timber, too. Satisfied for the moment, he ripped a tapestry off the wall and threw it across Beitris before cutting her arms and legs free.
“Give me a blade!” She clutched the weave around herself and rolled off the table.
Valan held out a dagger, but when she went to take it, he refused to let go until she understood. “Dinna kill the devil, m’lady. William has the cage waiting for him. He doesna deserve a quick death.” By the subtle shifting of the wildness in her eyes, he knew she agreed. He released his hold on the knife and stepped back.
One hand clutching the wrap to her chest, she slowly made her way to where Euban sobbed and writhed in pain. She cut through his belt, sliced away his trews, then lifted his bollocks with the blade.
Euban shrieked louder and tried to kick her away, but each time he lifted a foot, she stabbed his thighs. “Mama took yer ear. I willna take anything from ye, but I will feed ye yer bollocks!” She sliced them off, skewered them with the tip of the knife, and shoved them into his mouth. Then she backed away, chest heaving and eyes glittering with fury.
“Well done, Lady Beitris.” Valan admired the woman. Even though cruelly abused and humiliated, she had found the strength to fight back. Her courage to be a survivor rather than a victim humbled him. She was the mightiest of warriors.
As the din settled, Valan turned, searching for his men. Blood covered every surface. Bodies sagged across tables, sprawled across the floor, and slumped over benches. But not a single one belonged to his mightyGallóglaigh.Pride and a sense of justice made him stand taller. He settled a pointed gaze on William, then shifted it to Beitris, where she raged back and forth in front of the unconscious Euban, mumbling under her breath.
William understood Valan’s unspoken message. He went to her with empty hands lifted and held them out to her. When he came within a single stride of her, she raised her dagger as though ready to charge and attack. He stood still. Both hands still raised, waiting without saying a word.
The crazed look in her eyes faded, and the blade dropped from her hand. She staggered forward and almost fell to her knees. William grabbed her up and held her. Eyes closed, he cradled her with a gentleness that betrayed his true feelings. She curled into his chest and filled the hall with her loud, keening sobs.
The siege successful, Valan scrubbed a weary hand across his face. Time now to heal and help his lady rebuild her life.
*
Elspet stared outthe window as Fiona, Beitris’s faithful maid, combed her freshly washed hair with gentle, careful strokes. “See to Lady Beitris, Fiona. I can manage my dressing. Truly, I can.”
With an understanding nod, Fiona returned the comb to the dressing table. Made of carved ivory, it had been a long-ago gift from Herbert. Elspet turned and stared at it where it lay among her things. ’Twas a wonder her departed husband hadn’t risen from the tomb to save his daughter from the unspeakable acts committed by his own brother.
The elderly maid shuffled closer and cleared her throat with a hesitantharrumph. When Elspet looked her way, Fiona’s hopeful smile plumped her withered cheeks and deepened the wrinkles around her kind eyes. “Our wee lamb is strong as they come, m’lady.”
“That she is.” Elspet reached out and took hold of the caring matron’s knobby hands. “I am indebted to ye, Fiona. Ye risked yer life bringing us water while we were in those cages.”
The dear woman’s blue eyes filled with unshed tears. “I been nurse to Lady Beitris since her birth and served yerself many a year afore the Maxwell brought in Dullis. I couldna kill that bastard Euban for ye or get ye free, but I could bring ye water.”
“Yer loyalty and bravery mean more to me than ye will ever understand.” She squeezed the maid’s hands again. “Ye will always have a place with us, Fiona. Always.”
With a hitching sniff, Fiona bobbed her head. “I shall see to the Lady Beitris now. ’Tis my hope she’s asleep since her bath and the warm whisky I fixed for her. The salve helped her bruises, too. I know ye will be pleased to see her so improved, m’lady.”
“Send for me if anything goes awry, ye ken?” Beitris’s courage made Elspet proud but frustrated her, too. The stubborn lass had waved her aside, claiming a woman grown didn’t need fussing over by her mother. Especially when her mother had been beaten, too. Fiona was her only hope of keeping a watchful eye on her independent daughter. She trusted no one else in Caerlaverock.
Valan had told her what the bastard did, and how the rest had stood by and watched. The soulless devil now hung in his own cage, waiting to die. The others she would deal with later. After she’d rested enough to sort through her jumbled mind.
