“It is her, isn’t it?” John said, pointing out at a distant figure giving orders to the men around her. “His mother.”
“Aye,” Gavin replied with a nod. “The barefoot man’s mother lives still and she controls this army, not Mungo Frazer.”
“Then God help us all,” Bruce said, genuflecting as the other men did the same. “If the stories are true, we are doomed. You cannot destroy a devil.”
“This clan beat the barefoot man already,” Gavin said, surprised to hear such a defeatist tone from his second in command. “We can beat his mother.”
He looked out at the view before him. Food was being prepared, armor piled up from one arriving cart after another. In the distance he could hear sawing.
“Will they attack?” John asked. “With her, they stand a better chance than any army before now.”
“They are not preparing for an immediate assault. Look at the tents, the fires, the beds. It is going to be a long siege. Keep watch for now. I must make preparations.”
He headed back down the stairs in time to find Heather pacing up and down in the middle of the courtyard. Once again he felt the urge to kiss her but this time he managed to dismiss it.
He needed to focus and not on the way her hair looked in the light, the way her eyes drew his attention, nor the way he wanted to sweep her into his arms and hold her close to him.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
I am falling for your charms, he thought to himself. That’s what.
Out loud he simply said, “A siege,” and then marched toward the keep without looking back.
