Signaling his men to begin their stealthy approach on Dubheilrig, Hacon promised himself that he would not let any softness of heart deter him this time. The king had decreed Balreaves’s death, and for once Hacon did not have any qualms about acting as the Bruce’s executioner.
By the time everyone was in position, Hacon felt so taut he ached. Each sight of Balreaves’s men pummeling the walls of the tower house or firing their deadly arrows added to Hacon’s fury, to his need to strike the man down. His men suffered the same urges, and Hacon had been hard-pressed to hold them back, especially when Balreaves’s men broke through into the inner bailey. Only their trust in his ability to gain them a victory with the least cost kept them from charging the tower house, from screaming out their fury and hatred. Now that they had Balreaves and his men encircled, Hacon could give the signal his men all craved. With a cold smile he did so, standing up with his sword raised and savoring the shock and fear that momentarily gripped Balreaves and his men as Dubheilrig’s fighting force appeared from all sides, their cries for battle drowning out all other sounds. Hacon and his men swiftly scaled the crumbling, broken outer wall of the bailey and fell upon their enemies.
Lucais had paused in readying his people for a final stand when a new roar of fury was added to the cacophony of battle. He pushed a man aside to stare out one of the slender arrow slits of the keep tower. The sight that greeted his eyes made him hoot his relief and delight in a well-executed battle strategy.
“What is it, Lucais?” demanded Serilda as she came up behind him. “Not more of Balreaves’s men?”
“Nay,ourmen.” He slipped a strong arm around her shoulders and gave her a brief, hearty hug. “Our men are back from Dunfermline. That many-voiced bellow was theirs.”
“Our men? Can ye see Hacon? Does he lead them?”
“Oh, aye. Big and bold and verra much alive. The lass has done it. Somehow she freed our son and he is here to make Balreaves suffer.”
She hugged him back tightly and shed a few tears. “So, ’tis over at last. We are saved.”
“Ah, weel, not yet. Our lads have caught Balreaves by surprise and surrounded him, but they will need help.”
“Ye mean to go out there, to join that fierce battle.”
“Dinnae look so fearful, dearling. I dinnae mean to charge out sword in hand. Howbeit, I am certain Hacon’s plan includes our support and, though my arm is too weak to swing a weapon, my mind is still strong and quick. I need to direct these people.”
“Can ye not just shoot arrows at the enemy from here and lessen their numbers?”
“Ye ken as weel as I that we could easily slay our own men, for ’tis a confused melee now.” He started to signal the men to gather around him.
Serilda watched her husband quickly deliver his orders. Robert’s brother Donald was the most battle-hardened, and she was pleased to see that Lucais kept the youth at his side. The men he would lead were mostly young and untried or past their youth. It was not the most impressive of armies. Their need to join in the battle was obvious, however. They wanted to strike a blow against the man who had kept them afraid and hurt, and had killed nearly a half dozen of their loved ones during three long, exhausting days of battle. She sighed and moved to organize the women as Lucais led the men out to join what was fast becoming a melee. There would undoubtedly be a great many wounds, large and small, to tend to when it was finally all over.
Hacon kept his gaze fixed upon Balreaves as he moved through the tangle of fighting men and the rubble of his partially ruined tower house. Each time he was delayed by the need to defend himself he was infuriated. Balreaves was clearly trying to flee, even using his own men as shields as he struggled to reach his mount. Hacon was determined not to let the man escape.
Suddenly, armed men rushed out of the tower house, breaking what little control Balreaves still held over his men. Now they no longer fought to repel an attack but to clear a way for retreat. Hacon smiled, recognizing it was a decisive step toward victory. The confusion of men, hobbled mounts, siege weapons, and rubble within the encircling barmkin wall hindered them greatly. Hacon just prayed it would hinder Balreaves as well.
Just as Balreaves came within reach of his mount, Hacon came within reach of him. As Balreaves swung to face him, Lucais and Donald arrived to pull the nervous horse farther away and stand, swords in hand, as a deadly barrier. All chance of escape was taken from Balreaves now. Hacon smiled coldly at his enemy as the man swiftly readied his sword and shield to defend himself.
“And now, Balreaves, ’tis as it always should have been—ye and I face to face, sword to sword.”
The man smiled back, but it was a weak, nervous expression. Fresh sweat glistened on Balreaves’s pale, grime-smeared face. Then his look changed to a grimace of fury, and Hacon braced for the attack.
“Aye. Your whore of a wife will make a lovely widow. I shall enjoy her as I did her mother,” he shouted out, and attacked.
Hacon easily blocked the fierce swing of Balreaves’s sword. “Nay, ye shall now pay for that innocent blood.”
“Will I?” Balreaves nimbly turned aside Hacon’s sword thrust. “I am not without skill, Gillard.”
“Ye have kept it weel hidden behind hired murderers.” Hacon danced out of reach of Balreaves’s sword, but his own blow resounded fruitlessly off the man’s shield.
“I saw no need to waste my strength. Howbeit, now ye shall discover that I am your better in this as I am in all else. Ye may have persuaded the king to let ye live, but your reprieve will be short-lived.”
There was enough skill and strength in the man’s next attack for Hacon to believe Balreaves made no idle boast. He ceased to taunt the man and concentrated on winning the battle, determined not to let Balreaves escape justice again.
Chapter 25
“Robert, ye cannae mean to put me in this ditch?”
Jennet stared in dismay at the rut strewn with leaves and pine needles. The carts had been driven into the woods that stood between the road to Stirling and the open fields and moors that encircled Dubheilrig. She could hear the dull echo of battle, but no one would let her draw near enough to look. They also prepared for any possible attack or trouble from Balreaves’s men if and when they fled this way. Jennet did not, however, believe she needed to be hidden to the extent of being tucked into a ditch. She scowled at Robert as he and Ranald lined the trench with blankets.
“Those dinnae make it any more welcoming. Why cannae I stay in the cart?”
“’Tis the first place ye would be seen,” answered Ranald. “We cannae be seen weel from the road or from the fields of Dubheilrig, but Balreaves’s men arenae apt to take such an open route if they break free of our men. Ye will be much safer here, better hidden and at a distance from the carts, which could too easily draw their attention.”
