Bugger!Glenna wiggled away, back toward the head of the bed.
“Meow, meow, meow, meow….”
There was long, telling break of silence, and she had nowhere else to run, then both men were on either side of the bed looking at her from narrowed, angry eyes.
Never had she been intimidated by male anger. She didn’t give in, but scooted all the back against the wall. They graspedfor her but she moved out of reach, so they split up to each side of the bed, moving closer and grabbing for an arm or leg.
She scampered back and forth, until they were half under the bed with her and she shimmied down for the foot of the bed, but one of them got a leg, and another, an arm. They tried to drag her out, but she fought madly, kicking and biting, clinging madly to the support ropes on the bed, as more men came and they each pulled and yanked until her poor body felt stretched to the breaking point and her strength waned. Her arm slipped from the ropes, burning her skin as she was dragged out, still kicking and flailing.
At the last moment she grabbed the pisspot and threw it on the man who pulled out by her ankles.
Sir Coll Frasyr dropped her and cursed so loudly his voice echoed overhead. She swung her feet up and kicked the other man hard in the jaw, scurried up, pulled her knife and faced eight men, while more men came running in the room. Frasyr was dripping in yellow piss and his face was almost blue he was so angry. She looked from one man to another. Where was de Hay?
She shifted, her weight on the balls of her feet, searching the crowd of male faces, the knife poised to strike. “Any one of you tries to touch me and you’ll find yourself gelded.”
She felt a sword tip at her back. “Drop the knife,” de Hay said.
“You will not harm me. I am worth too much to you.”
“What you do not understand is I can, and will, wound you enough to make you drop the knife. You are caught. There is no escape. Look around you. A wise woman would do as I ask. And I do not believe you are without wits.” He pressed the sword into her back, deeper. She did not budge. He pushed it deeper, and deeper. She stood unflinchingly strong.
And he pushed harder. The sword cut into her. She cried out at the pain, but reacted instinctively and gripped the knife even tighter, pulled back, felt the sword tip pop free, and she spun and threw the knife at him.
De Hay sidestepped and the knife flew past him to stick with a loud thud in the wall. “Take her!” he ordered through a tight jaw and slammed his sword into the floor.
The first man who grabbed her she bit, hanging onto his skin with her jaw clamped tight and she heard him hiss in pain, and then yell when she bit even deeper. The second she kicked in the groin, the ribs, and the jaw, then there were more men pulling at her, strong hands and arms everywhere. She twisted and scratched and pounded with her fists, and kicked hard with her feet, but too soon her strength was gone and futile against so many.
She had the will and the determination. But she did not have enough hands and feet to fight them all.
The sun was risingwhen the gates opened again and a large troop of men rode out of the castle and began crossing the lake in large numbers, on three ferry barges, one after another.
“Huchon de Hay,” Ramsey said under his breath as if the name was profanity, but he made no motion to arm or give chase as the men rode onto shore and gathered, ready to ride.
“You will not go after them?”
Ramsey shook his head. “My duty is to claim and safeguard the king’s eldest daughter.” To Lyall he turned and said, “You say you have a way inside. The position of the keep is near impossible to lay siege. Since you are the reason she is not safely tucked away at Rossie, I will hear your plan.”
His stepfather sarcasm was not lost to him, but Lyall’s mistakes were done, so he refused to cower and or labor over what he could not change. He told them of his conversation with Frasyr’s man, then explained that along with Glenna’s brothers and their horses, they could infiltrate Kinnesswood under the pretext of offering the horses for sale to Frasyr’s man. His stepfather listened without comment, then joined the discussion andquestioned him about the lay of things inside the gates, and the plans began to grow, take form, and become the single path that made the most sense, except for the matter of trusting him.
“How do we know you will not give us up to Frasyr?” Elgin Gordon asked, eyeing Lyall with contempt.
“You cannot know,” Lyall said. “But without me, neither have you a chance in hell to get inside, so you have little choice.”
25
Agroup of men-at-arms stood guard outside the tower door. Earlier, when Glenna put her ear to the door, she could hear them talking and dicing. After her third foiled escape attempt, Frasyr stayed true to his promise and sent for the smith. She was leg-shackled to a pin in the wall beneath the shuttered arch with just enough chain for her to reach the edges in the room.
The traitorous grey cat lay curled nearby, contented and purring so loudly it sounded like the recoil of a bowstring. The beast was not part of her plan. She had tried to get rid of it, had pounded on the door when she discovered it was locked in with her again. “Guard! Guard!” she had called out.
“My lady?” came the voice through the door.
“You need to take the cat,” she said. “It wants out.”
“Nay. She will stay with you.”
“But—“
“Good night, my lady.”
