“What is it?” she shouted, trying to make herself heard over the noise.
“A battering ram,” one of the men said before he raced for the door.
After waiting so long to starve them out and force a surrender, why was Wedderburn attacking now?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The floor vibrated beneath her feet, as if Thor himself were beating his anvil in the castle yard.
What should she do?
If the Humes stormed the castle, there was sure to be a bloodbath. If she gave up peaceably, perhaps some of her household would be spared. She turned to the nursemaid, who was looking about the room wild-eyed, and clasped the woman’s hands around her daughters’ hands.
“Flora, take the girls to our bedchamber and bar the door,” she said. “Open it to no one but me.”
She ran out of the keep and stood at the top of the steps. The courtyard was in chaos. Castle defenders were rushing to the gate to help those who were already piled against it, attempting to use their weight to hold it against the ceaseless pounding.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Tell him I surrender!” she shouted. “Open the gates!”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
She shouted again, but no one heard her. She ran down the steps. She must make the men heed her. “Surrender! Open the gates!”
The sickening sound of splintering wood reached her ears.
“They’re breaking through!” someone shouted. “Run for your lives!”
It was too late. With her heart in her throat, Alison picked up her skirts and ran. She had to reach her daughters before the attackers burst through the gate intent on murder and mayhem. Jostled by her own men, who were also running for the keep, she nearly fell twice, but she managed to make it inside.
The noise in the hall was deafening. The shouts and screams followed her, echoing off the stone walls of the stairwell, as she raced up the stairs to reach her daughters.
“Let me in!” She pounded on the bedchamber door with her fists.
When the door flung open, Beatrix stood in the doorway, with her sister just behind her. Flora sat on a stool in the far corner moaning and rocking herself.
Alison slammed the door behind her and threw the bolt across. When she whirled around, her daughters were staring at her, their eyes wide in their pale faces. She fell to her knees and caught them in her arms.
“There, there.” Alison never lied to her daughters, but she lied to them now. “Everything will be all right.”
Another glance at Flora, who had been old when she was Alison’s nursemaid, told her the poor woman would be no help.
The clank of swords and shouts of men came through the window and filled the bedchamber, sending panic coursing through her veins. The enemy was inside the castle walls now. Alison prayed that the doors to the keep would hold. She buried her face in her daughters’ hair, breathing in their familiar scent, and wondered if it would be the last time she held them in her arms.
There was a loud crash, and a roar went up. Suddenly the sounds of fighting were coming from the hall below as well as from the courtyard. She must protect her daughters. But how?
Alison remembered her husband’s sword, which she’d placed in the trunk at the foot of the bed for safekeeping, and forced herself to release her daughters. With trembling fingers, she fumbled with the keys tied to her belt until she found the right one.
She heard boots on the stairs as she unlocked the trunk. She tossed aside blankets and gowns to reach the sword.
Click, click.She jumped at the sound of someone lifting the door latch. Her heart pounded in her ears as she lifted the sword from the trunk and struggled to pull it from its scabbard. When she jerked it free, she stumbled backward.
Bang, bang.A fist pounded on the other side of the door. The bolt held, but for how long?
“Stay behind me,” she ordered her daughters.
She stood in front of them and faced the door with the sword in her hands.
