The villagers immediately shook free of their bonds and took up weapons from the wagon. The boys opened the trunks and began to throw rocks at the baron’s men. Anna grabbed her crossbow from the cart and took aim at a sentry on the high wall. He had been aiming at Duncan. She killed him with a single bolt, and his body fell over the wall to the opposite side. Royce’s men moved quickly and she knew they would not have much time.
Shouting erupted on all sides and the battle was fierce. Servants flowed out of the hall, the cook waving a knife and the castellan a sword of his own. The squires proved to be fierce fighters and better trained than the villagers. Blood began to flow, but Anna was worried about Father Ignatius.
There was no movement from the chapel.
“Get the other wagon through the gate,” she commanded Percy. “And loose the steeds that they can run.”
The boys hastened to do her bidding, the others defending Percy as he scurried toward the wagon. Anna shot another sentry who was aiming into the group, but only damaged his shoulder. He leapt down the wooden scaffolding lashed to the inside of the curtain wall, seized another arrow. To her dismay, he struck a flint and lit a bundle of cloth on the end of the arrow. Anna fired at him with a retrieved bolt, but it did not fly true.
His burning arrowhead landed in a pile of straw behind the second cart. The straw ignited, then tumbled and the fire spread to the clothing of those battling in the bailey. Anna shouted a warning, then ran to the chapel. The wagon laden with the king’s taxes moved toward the gates, Percy shouting to the horses.
“Father Ignatius!” she cried and tried the door to the chapel. It was locked. Was he gone? Was the reliquary safe? She had time to hope before the priest replied.
“I have the reliquary, Anna, but the door was locked against me.”
“What of your keys?”
“Lady Marie took them. Sir Royce has the only others.”
“The solar,” Anna whispered. “They will be in the solar.” She spoke again to the priest. “There is a battle, Father, and a fire in the bailey. I will be back as quickly as I can.”
“Go, child!” he urged. “Go! Bartholomew is garbed as Gaultier.”
“I know! He is with us.”
“Praise be,” murmured the priest even as Anna ran. She retrieved three bolts on her way across the bailey and narrowly missed being shot herself. She fired at the assailant, then ducked through the portal to the hall.
That was when she heard the portcullis fall.
She glanced back as the horses halted with a whinny at the gates. Squires swarmed the cart and the villagers fought back with gusto.
Would they be trapped inside the bailey until they were hunted down?
Nay, it could not be!
She raced up the stairs to the solar, hoping she could save Father Ignatius in time.
*
The tower was so quiet, compared to the sound of battle in the bailey below.
Bartholomew climbed the stairs slowly, halfway convinced that the pounding of his heart would reveal him.
He flattened himself against the wall as the servants from the kitchens raced through the hall and poured into the bailey through the portal he had just used. Where was Lady Marie and her maid? Where was Royce? He wagered the baron was in his high chamber.
There was no sentry at the base of the stairs nor one at the first turn. Bartholomew paused, listening, then drew his blade before continuing.
There was no one in the chamber that he and Anna had shared.
There was no one in Lady Marie’s chamber. In fact, the portal stood open and the contents looked to be in disarray. Trunks were open and some fabric on the floor. Was this the usual state of her chamber, or had something befallen her?
Bartholomew stood in the corridor, but heard no sounds from above. Could he truly ascend to Royce’s solar without being challenged?
He reached the summit of the stairs and found the portal to that highest chamber open. He paused, then stepped inside. There were satchels and small trunks on the floor and a woman standing at the window with her back to him. She wore a cloak, the hood raised over her head.
“Lady Marie?” he asked softly. She did not reply. He stepped into the room and spun when the door was slammed behind him. He jumped back from the darting dagger held by Marie’s maid and froze at the feel of a second blade against his back.
“Take off your helm,” Marie said.
