The king held her gaze a moment longer. She feared he was about to reconsider, but instead, after a long pause, he nodded. “Very well. Safe travels. You will have my letter before you go. You know whom to give it to?” She nodded. “Then take care.”
“I will.” Helen made her way from the king’s solar before he could change his mind. She bit her lip, feeling a prickle of apprehension. What she contemplated was not only dangerous but “unconventional”—to put it mildly. But it was also exciting, and, more than anything, important. She would be putting her healing skills to use. To the very best use.
She had just entered the stairwell when she heard a series of muffled sounds followed by a loud clank coming from a room just off the the landing. The garderobe, she realized.
Although her first instinct was to blush and move away quickly, she realized the sounds were not the normal sounds someone might make while relieving himself.
And what was someone doing up here anyway? There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in this tower except the king and the guards who were stationed at the entry below.
The next sound stopped her cold. Whispering, and at leasttwovoices.
Grateful for the darkness that had descended over the castle and the sky in the last hour, she hugged the wall and slowly inched closer toward the small room. The door was closed, but there was just enough of a gap between two wooden slats to make out the dark, shadowy figures of men bent over the hole in the rock and looking down.
Helen sucked in her breath, realizing what they were doing. The garderobe was positioned on the outside wall of the tower to empty directly into the water of the loch. Somehow, these men had figured out a way to climb up it.
Although her first instinct was to cry out and attempt to warn the guards below, she wasn’t sure they would hear her from here. But the men in the garderobe certainly would. They would have time to kill her and the king before the guards could reach them.
No, her best chance was to warn the king and try to get past them before—
Too late. The door started to open.
She sank back into the shadows and retreated up the stairs and down the dark corridor to the king’s chamber. The men’s footsteps were just behind her.
Heart hammering in her chest, she opened the door, slid inside the narrow opening, and quickly closed it behind her.
“Lady Helen!” the king exclaimed, surprised to see her again. “What is it?”
Helen was looking around the room, praying for a miracle, at the same time she answered, “Men, Sire. At least three of them, coming this way. Blow out the candles. We don’t have much time—it won’t take them long to search the rooms for yours.”
It was a small donjon with only a few solars on each of the three levels. And they would guess the king would be placed up high.
Bruce had already grabbed his sword, but they both knew they were doomed if it came to that. Three men were too many for the still weakened king. And there was always the fear that there could be more.
“You try to summon help,” Bruce said. “I’ll hold them off.”
But Helen had another idea.
***
Magnus and the others stormed through the gate just as the first cry was raised. They raced to the tower where the king had been moved after the fire.
The wall of guardsmen he’d left to keep watch on the tower was in disarray. Without stopping to ask questions, he pushed through the guardsmen and raced up the stairwell, MacGregor, Sutherland, and Fraser right on his heels.
He heard the clash of swords above him and then the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the wooden floor. Reaching the third level, he exited the stairwell into the outer area of the three chambers on this floor—the largest at the end serving as the king’s temporary solar.
The body of one of his men was on the floor, a man in black standing over him. The horrible stench that filled the air told him how they’d gotten in. Magnus let out a roar, pulled the mail-piercing dirk from his waist—the area was too small to use a sword or hammer effectively—and attacked.
But he feared they were already too late when he noticed two more men had come out into the corridor from the king’s chamber.
The space wasn’t large enough to accommodate so many. But it didn’t take him long to rectify that by one.
After the first man fell, Magnus went for the man on the left, whom he recognized despite the helm, and MacGregor took the one on the right.
They squared off, blades drawn. “You wanted your rematch, Munro,” Magnus said. “You have it.”
“You figured it out, did you?” Munro laughed and jerked off his helm, which would be a detriment in such close combat.
Magnus recoiled from the sight of blistering skin on the left side of his face. Most of his hair on that side had been singed off as well. “Get caught in the blast? Looks painful.”
