He had no doubt that the rabble were only working well under the orders of Mungo and the old crone. Slice the heads off the hydra and the beast would crumble to dust. The outlaws would vanish to be picked up and dealt with in the future. The Frazers would run. Let them run. He would have his castle back. That was what mattered most.
Should he have brought his men with him? Tried to storm the place? Or sneak in the sallyport perhaps? He shook his head. They would not fall for the same trick. No doubt they had barred the sallyport more securely than him.
The outlaws and the Frazers together outside the castle were defeatable. Inside, it would be a slaughter and then where would his clan be? Undefended. He would not let that happen to them.
The castle came into view in the darkness. He could hear laughter coming from inside. Torches had been lit at the towers despite the rain but that worked in his favor. The guards by the torches would be able to see nothing beyond the smoky light. He was free to move closer.
The camp of the besieging army was still there though it was unmanned. He was able to use it as cover, making his way toward the east tower where the stonework bulged out from the battlements. Glancing up he checked to see if anyone had spotted him. Nothing.
He half expected an arrow through the heart at any moment but there was only that laughter and loud talking coming from within. The smell of roasted pork drifted on the wind. They were eating well on his food. Let them. It would be the last time they received the generosity of the MacGregors.
Once he reached the east tower he ducked down, feeling his way through the grass, crawling toward the moat. Just before he reached it he stopped. This would be the hardest part.
He made sure the knife was securely strapped to his waist. Leaving the sword behind under a bush, he took a deep breath and then dived into the water. Pushing downward he reached the bottom a moment later, weeds pulling at his arms, threatening to trap him in place. He forced his way past them, finding the hole in the bottom of the moat a moment later.
Kicking his legs hard he shoved himself into the hole, swimming along an underwater tunnel until his lungs felt like they might explode. Just as the air was running out in his body he reached the end of the tunnel. Lifting his head he broke the surface of the water, taking a deep breath of fetid air. He was inside the castle.
They might have secured the main entrances but none of them knew the castle like he did. This sewer was a modern addition though it hadn’t been finished before he was captured.
Eventually it would run from the kitchen past the garderobe and then out into the moat. For now the tunnel reached just underneath the keep, coming to a dead end in an old store.
He pulled himself up out of the water into the pitch black room. The store itself had long been boarded up. It dated to the previous castle on the site. The stone vaulting in the roof had collapsed in places so the room had been abandoned. Several thick trunks of wood held up the roof, making sure it didn’t collapse entirely.
Gavin made his way across the fallen stones to the rotten door. Pulling it open he felt the boards on the other side. Could he get them off without anyone hearing?
He had no choice but to take the gamble, hoping the noise of their victory feast would drown out what he was doing. Putting his shoulder to the boards, he shoved hard. Nothing happened. Another shove and this time he was rewarded by a cracking sound.
Leaning back he kicked hard. The lower half of the boards bent back. Kneeling he was able to squeeze through the gap, stepping out into a dark corridor. He waited for a moment. Was anyone coming? There was no sound but that of his own breathing.
He made his way along the corridor, turning a corner to see a low light up ahead. It shone through the bottom of a locked door. The muniments room, home to all the important documents of the clan. He was surprised the Frazers hadn’t set fire to it. No doubt they were too busy celebrating their victory.
The door to the muniments room was locked but he knew the trick to it, pulling it from the hinges in just the right way so it swung in his direction, bypassing the lock. Once inside he paused, listening. Still nothing.
He made his way slowly upward to the next floor. Voices approached. He ducked behind a curtain, listening as two men discussed what they were going to do with their share of the spoils.
His hand gripped the knife. He thought about jumping out, slicing both their throats. He decided against it. There was a chance they’d be able to shout an alarm before he could silence them both. Better to bide his time.
As they moved past him, he breathed easier. Once he was sure they were gone he continued on his way, heading up the next flight of stairs, reaching the balcony above the great hall a few moments later.
Looking down he froze. There were both of his enemies in one place but something wasn’t quite right. The old crone was standing with her back to the fire. In front of her Mungo Frazer was sitting facing the table, staring at a candle while she talked.
“You were supposed to bring me Gavin MacGregor and that bitch of his and what do you do?”
Mungo said nothing. It was as if he couldn’t even hear her.
“You let them escape. One job I give you and you fail entirely.”
“I am sorry.”
Gavin winced. That didn’t even sound like Mungo.
“I will go get them from whatever rock they’re hiding under. Their tracks will be easy to follow after this rain. The outlaws will go with me. They, at least, can be trusted. You and your useless Frazers can stay here until I think what to do with you.”
“I stay here.”
“Useless.” She turned away from Mungo, marching across to the door and vanishing through it. Gavin waited until he was sure she wasn’t coming back and then swung his legs over the balcony.
He dropped neatly to the ground, pulling out the knife as he did so. He approached Mungo silently. The laird of the Frazers didn’t even turn his way. He continued to stare at the candle.
