Unable to see out her window at what was occurring, Abechail was understandably frightened. She clung to her mother’s hand.
“What is happening?” she asked, verging on tears. “Have the Scots come?”
Rosalund nodded patiently. “They have, my lamb,” she said. “Your father says that they are building ladders so that they may mount our walls. If they are able to get into the bailey, then it will only be a matter of time before they breach the keep. Your father feels that if we lock ourselves in the vault, they cannot get to us.”
Abechail’s eyes were tearing up but she nodded. Rosalund stroked her daughter’s hair one last time before returning her attention to Cathlina and Roxane.
“Roxane,” she said. “You will collect as much water as you can from the well and take it to the vault. Use buckets and pitchers and anything else you can find. Have a house servant assist you. Go, now, there is no time to waste.”
When Roxane fled, she turned her attention to Cathlina. “And you, my dear, will collect blankets and bedding and take it down to the vault. I will also have you bring chamber pots. I am having the servants stash as much food as we can collect. Hurry on with your task, now.”
Cathlina had been moderately calm until Rosalund had revealed the plan to hide in the vault. If her father was already making such preparations, then the impending battle must be a terrible one indeed. That knowledge made it most difficult to remain calm.
“If Father wanted us to stay to the vault, then shouldn’t we have stored supplies earlier?” she asked. “It seems foolish to do this at the last hour. We have known for days that the Scots could come.”
Some of Rosalund’s patience left her. “We knew nothing for certain,” she snapped. “Your father prepared as he saw best. You will not question his decisions.”
Cathlina shook her head, exasperated and afraid. “I am not questioning his decisions,” she said. “I am simply asking why we did not do this sooner. Now we must rush about while the enemy is building ladders against us.”
“Psh,” Rosalund shushed her. “Go now and do as you are told.”
With shaking legs, Cathlina rushed off. She could hardly believe this was happening, that the Scots were preparing to knock down her front door. She had moved beyond thoughts of her father’s lack of preparation and on to Mathias. Hadn’t he sent her back to England to prevent this? Confused, terrified, and praying that Mathias would somehow know of her danger and come to her aid, she raced in and out of bedchambers, collecting what she could carry before taking it to the vault.
The dungeons of Kirklinton were built under the great hall. The hall itself was built using one of the curtain walls for itsnorthern perimeter wall and on the western portion of the hall were alcoves for the servants and a small doorway that led down a flight of stairs into the great vault.
Originally used as storage, Saer had converted it into the prison because the gatehouse had a tiny bottle prison that was barely big enough for three men. The vault had two great iron grates, one at the top of the stairs and one at the bottom. The vault itself had a dirt floor and big barrel ceiling, the stones carefully placed to support the weight of the hall above. It was big, and cold, and branched off on a ninety degree angle from the staircase so anyone coming down the steps could not see into the room. They could only see a very small portion of the entire vault. That would hopefully work to their favor.
Cathlina worked steadily gathering bed linens and fashioning four relatively comfortable pallets down in the vault. She placed them as far away from the door as she could get them in order to keep them as great a distance from danger as possible. Furthermore, she had the cook hunt down large sheets of oilcloth sometimes used to protect the rabbit hutches in the kitchen yard from the elements. She lay those down on the ground underneath the pallets to keep the cold away.
As she emerged from the vault and headed out into the bailey towards the keep, she could see that there was a good deal of activity upon the walls. Men were shouting and she could see a rush of soldiers heading for the wall turrets. It was nearing the nooning hour by this time and as she neared the keep, her father and mother suddenly emerged. Her father was carrying Abechail in his arms and her mother was running along beside.
“Cathlina, come!” her father said briskly as he ran past her. “There is no more time. Into the vault!”
Cathlina’s terror surged as she followed after them, nearly tripping on her skirts in her haste. “Where is Roxane?” she cried.
“At the well,” her father said. “I will fetch her. You must come with menow.”
Cathlina ran after them without another word. Truth was, she was too frightened to speak. This was her first siege, her first battle, and she fought back the tears of terror. Dear God, if only Mathias knew of her plight. He would let nothing stop him from protecting his wife. A wife who happened to be carrying the child he did not yet know about. As Cathlina ran through the great hall and down the stairs into the vault after her parents, she wiped the tears off her cheeks. She prayed she would have the opportunity to tell Mathias of his son. It was all she prayed for.
Saer handed Abechail over to Rosalund, who bedded her daughter down gently on one of the pallets Cathlina had made. Swiftly, he turned to Cathlina, who was panting with fright and exertion behind him.
“Come with me,” he said, taking her arm.
He pulled her over to the stairs and pressed something cold and hard into the palm of her hand. It was an old iron key. When Cathlina saw what it was, she looked at him curiously.
“The key to both gates,” he told her softly. “You must keep it safe because as long as you have it, the Scots cannot get in. Do you understand?”
Cathlina nodded seriously. “Of course, Father.”
His gaze lingered on her a moment before cupping her face in his hands and kissing her forehead swiftly. “Take great care of yourself and my grandson,” he muttered. “Know that you are very special to me, Cathlina. I love you very much.”
Cathlina’s eyes welled with fat tears. “I love you, too,” she sniffed. “All will be well. You will see. You will meet your grandson in the spring.”
Saer seemed to grow misty-eyed but instead of making a fool of himself with more sentiment, he simply raced up the stairs. Cathlina followed, slamming the big iron gate behind him andlocking it. Then, she moved down a few steps and waited for him to return with Roxane.
They weren’t long in coming. Roxane and Saer returned shortly, Saer carrying a heavy bucket of water and Roxane nearly hysterical. Cathlina quickly unlocked the grate and ushered her sister in, followed by several servants they happened to pick up in the kitchen yard where they had gathered in an uncertain mass. Each of them had some kind of supply or possession with them, and the stable grooms were carrying more buckets of water.
When they had all entered the stairwell, Cathlina slammed the grate and locked it tightly again. Then, she followed the collection of people down into the vault and threw that gate as well, assisted by one of the grooms. Engaging the lock, she made her way back to her mother and sisters while the servants huddled over against the wall.
