Bartholomew surveyed the chamber. He supposed they could knot the bed curtains and lower themselves out the window, though he was not certain the cloth would bear the weight. There was no rope to be seen.
Marie spun and noticed the missing trunks. “Emma! Did you steal my coin?”
“It is mine now, my lady,” the maid sneered. “And may it make me more happy than it has done you.” Her footsteps sounded on the stairs, then she grunted and Bartholomew heard her fall. She swore and there were sounds of a struggle. He peered through the keyhole in time to see Anna fighting with the maid on the stairs. That Emma desired to keep hold of the sack of coin above all else betrayed her.
Anna ripped the ring of keys from the maid’s girdle. She cast them at the door, shouting his name. They clattered against the door and fell to the floor on the other side.
Bartholomew’s dagger barely slid through the space. He managed to catch the loop of the key ring and flick it under the door. He seized the keys, then unlocked the portal.
Emma had forced Anna against the wall, her one hand clutching a fistful of Anna’s hair. Anna’s crossbow was on the floor, some distance away from them. Emma raised the sack of coin, prepared to strike Anna in the head with it.
Bartholomew flung his knife. Emma froze, the knife buried between her shoulders, then the sack of coin fell from her grasp. Silver spilled across the floor.
Anna wriggled free as the maid’s body fell, then snatched for her crossbow. Bartholomew tossed the keys in his hand so that they jingled and when Anna looked his way, cast them to her. She snatched them out of the air with a triumphant smile.
“Who is this?” Marie demanded from behind Bartholomew. “She looks like the smith’s daughter.”
“Aye, she is, though you have just told me that she is nobly born. I thank you for those tidings.”
Bartholomew felt the thin dagger at his back and froze. “You will not abandon me here,” Marie whispered.
He saw that Anna had loaded a bolt and held her gaze for a moment. Her lips set and he knew he could trust her aim.
“I suppose you are right.” Bartholomew winked, knowing Marie would not be able to see his expression. He then ducked and Anna fired, the bolt striking Marie in the chest.
She staggered backward, her surprise clear. Her fingers rose to the wound and she stared at the blood on her hand. “You reject me.”
“I will never take such a traitorous woman to wife.”
“You will never take any woman to wife,” Marie vowed. She seized a bell hung inside Royce’s door and rang it, ensuring that the noise was loud and long.
Men shouted from below and there were footfalls on the stairs. Anna ran to Bartholomew as he retrieved his dagger. He seized her hand and she grabbed the sack of coin as he sought a means of escape.
“There!” he said, pointing to a ladder at one end of the corridor. They climbed it in haste and he shoved open the trap door in the ceiling above it. He could smell the smoke rising from the bailey. He leapt on to the parapet, then aided Anna to follow. He kicked the trap door shut and pivoted to face the sentries who came to attack.
They were only two, and one was injured.
“The bailey burns!” Anna whispered. “All will be lost.”
“Fergus arrives,” Bartholomew said, pointing to the plume of dust approaching Haynesdale. Even at a distance, he could see the white tabards of the Templars with their distinctive red crosses. “All will be saved!”
One sentry shouted and aimed his bow at them. Bartholomew tugged Anna toward the stairs against the interior of the curtain wall, a plan forming in his mind.
*
Anna did not share Bartholomew’s confidence, but she trusted him.
The guards blocked them from the wooden scaffold that was obviously his destination. He swung his sword and injured one, then gave her his dagger so she could defend his back. She wished there was room to load her crossbow, but the men were upon them. The smoke rising from the bailey was thick and she could not fully see what was happening below. She feared for all of the villagers, for Percy, for Duncan, and for Father Ignatius.
How could Bartholomew scheme to save them? She knew he had a plan for he moved with purpose, battling their way closer to those stairs. Why would he descend into the bailey? They would only die with the others! And Fergus would not be able to aid them with the portcullis closed against him.
Then Bartholomew slashed at the binding the scaffold to the curtain wall, using his sword to cut the ropes. He spun to cross swords with another attacker, then pivoted to slice another set of bonds. Anna could see his intent, but not understand it. She ducked beneath the swinging blades and cut another rope lashing, then moved to the fourth and final one that she could see. A pair of squires were scrambling up the steps, intent on aiding their fellows, and she thought Bartholomew might mean to eliminate any assistance.
Instead he caught her around the waist when the last bond was cut and kicked hard at the scaffolding. It eased away from the wall, teetering slightly. Another bond below broke even as the squires shouted in dismay.
Bartholomew cast her a cocky grin, then leapt at the wooden stairs, flinging their combined weight sideways against it. The wood creaked and groaned, then the entire structure fell into the bailey.
With them atop it.
