“I got her,” Philip said.
“I might have guessed.”
“Dinnae worry so. It looks like your hand has been forced, does it not?”
“Take her somewhere safe, I can handle the MacKenzies.”
Philip shook his head. “Tor and I will deal with them. You get her north and find that necklace. It is the only thing that can bring an end to this conflict.”
“Try not to kill all the MacKenzies.”
Philip smiled. “Take her through the sally port and travel to MacIntyre Castle. The necklace is in the treasury. They managed to get hold of it during a skirmish. Be careful, he may have taken the castle since I was there.”
“How do you even know where the necklace is?” Rachel asked.
There was a crash and the sound of running feet from around the corner. “Go!” Philip said.
Cam looked but he had already vanished. He did not fancy the MacKenzies chances. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Rachel’s hand and running the other way. “Time to move.”
Chapter Ten
There were two guards at the entrance to MacIntyre Castle. They had been on shift since nightfall and were not going to be relieved until morning. Both were exhausted. Knowing that their territory was shrinking did not help with the stress of their work.
At any moment they might be attacked but nothing had happened for weeks. Guarding was dull work at the best of times and their shifts had lengthened as more patrols were being sent out to try and regain their lost territory.
One of the guards yawned loudly.
“How’s your bairn?” Jock asked. “Ready to wield a sword yet?”
“Hardly. He’s teething and it’s all Mary can do to get him to sleep at all.”
A voice hissed out from above. “Keep your voices down.”
They glanced up, seeing the Sergeant at Arms glaring at them from out of the window above. They nodded and he vanished. Jock continued, his voice lower than before. “He’s worse than usual.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Do you think he’s real then?”
“Who?”
“You know, the barefoot man.”
“I dinnae ken about that. All I ken is I need tae take a pish. You all right on your own?”
“Aye but dinnae let him see you away from your post. He won’t spare you the lash this time.”
“Och, I’ll only be two minutes.”
Jock stood alone, gripping his pike and staring into the darkness. There was a twig snap to his left, James no doubt.
Out of the blackness of a night a figure emerged, shuffling along the track up to the castle. “Is that you, James?” he asked.
The figure came closer. It wasn’t his colleague, it was a beggar, and a leprous looking one at that. His hand was the only thing visible under his cloak, hanging limply, the skin looking wan in the flickering light of the torch on the wall by the portcullis. Boils covered the back of his hand.
“Stay where you are,” Jock said. “We want no diseases spreading in here.”
“What diseases?” the man said, lifting his hand into the air.
