Page 44 of Alec

Chapter Eleven

At the sound of the watcher’s horn Tasgall dropped everything and left the laird’s chamber through the passage concealed in the very back. Following the narrow space between the walls that he’d had made so the clan could move undetected, he emerged behind a tapestry in the great hall, where he saw his wife talking to a large group of females, most of whom were bickering with each other. As always Ava looked calm and composed, but even from a distance he could see the annoyance in her eyes.

“My lady.” He kissed her temple when he reached her. “Any report from the watchers?”

“The MacBren is approaching the castle,” she told him. “Two weeks early, according to Farlan. He’s herding our guys off to their defensive positions. Ladies. Ladies.” When the female vassals fell silent she gave them a smile of approval. “Please go to the kitchens and get the emergency food and water packs that Doon and I stored there for you, and take them down to the dungeons.”

“I’ll attend to them, my lady,” the clan’s cook said before regarding the other women. “Come with me to the butlery. Una, if I hear one more unkind word pass your lips I’ll gag you myself.”

Once all the vassals had left Ava sighed and rubbed her head. “We suspected conditions inside the spell trap had changed, and it looks like we were right. The cycle of events is moving faster now.”

“We’ll take time to fash such after the MacBren departs. Go down to the dungeons with our ladies, my love.” When she shook her head he almost chuckled. “I dinnae ken why I bother trying to keep you safe.”

“You do that because you love me. I am going to my new observation post that Ben helped me build.” She hesitated, and then rubbed her brow. “I forgot about Olivia Gibson. I promised she could watch with me.”

Tasgall was startled to see his war master enter the great hall with their latest arrival in tow.

“I’m right here.” The woman smiled at them both before she regarded Alec. “Go to work. I’ll be fine.”

Incredibly the most unfriendly member of the clan kissed her cheek before giving them a short bow and trotting off.

“Is he pished?’ Tasgall murmured to his wife.

“He’s in love,” she whispered back before she grinned at Olivia. “Thanks for remembering to come down here. If you’ve changed your mind I’ll take you to where we hide our ladies in the dungeons.”

“And pass up the chance to safely watch what happens during these event loops?” the lass said, and grinned. “Not even if you paid me.”

Ava grimaced. “It’s not going to be much fun.” She gave Tasgall a resigned look. “But maybe you’ll notice something that I can’t.”

Olivia nodded, and as Farlan hurried in she followed Ava out of the hall. The seneschal had a fading bruise on his chin and wiped some blood from his nose.

“I had to separate some tussling scullery lads,” he said as he went to pick up the sand bucket by the hearth and began putting out the fires. “MacBren’s arrived two weeks early. Something’s gone amiss with the enchantment.”

“’Tisnae the first alteration of the curse we’ve seen.” He went to help Farlan extinguish the remaining hearth flames. “Those facking caterpillars grew to a monstrous size here to attack and cocoon us. Polly died after falling into the smelting furnace. Naught like either’s happened in the trap in nine centuries. Now Mistress Gibson’s forced inside through a pit, Elspeth’s been frozen and the MacBren arrives early. What purpose serves any of such?”

“You need ask Alec. He understands schemes like no other.” The seneschal flinched as the watchers blew their horn a second time. “The MacBren’s at the gate.”

Standing with Ava in almost complete darkness on an elevated platform, Olivia tugged back a fold of tightly woven hemp cloth to peer through a narrow slit. On the other side, the fabric had been painted to resemble the castle’s interior stone, and the blind hung five yards above the great hall. The FBI agent had led her through a series of hidden passages to reach the spot.

Below, Olivia could see unfamiliar guards filing in to form ranks in front of the laird and his senior men, but so far no sign of Alec. Tasgall’s own guards came to stand toe to toe with them.

“Easy, lads,” the laird said. “Do naught without my command.”

Olivia saw some furtive movement up in the rafters, and squinted until she could make out the silhouettes of archers who had wedged themselves at strategic positions over the hall.

“Alec and some of our archers shadow the MacBren and his bunch as they enter the castle,” Ava murmured, and pointed up at the rafters. “Don’t worry. He’s always careful not to get caught.”

Olivia would have whispered something back, but a moment later a large fair-haired man with a sunburned face kicked the door open and came into the hall, his expression furious. The chain mail he wore had wet dark stains on it, and blood dripped from the sword he gripped in his hand. He looked as if he wanted to kill everyone in the hall.

“McKeran, you eejit,” he shouted as other large, heavily armed men flanked him on either side. “How dare you refuse the king’s summons? ’Tis treason to ignore his command.”

Olivia had often tried to imagine what medieval warriors had been like, but even knowing what they wore and how they lived, the reality was almost shocking. Some of the laird’s men had horrific scars on their faces; one had lost a hand recently judging by the bloody, filthy rag wrapped around the stump. The unwashed smell that came from them made it all the way up to the blind and was so revolting that she had to start breathing through her mouth.

Tasgall’s guards stepped aside to form a protective gauntlet as the laird came forward and bowed to the red-faced man as elegantly as if he were the king himself.

“My lord MacBren. I regret I couldnae attend our sovereign.” The laird’s gaze fell to the other man’s sword, and for a moment Olivia thought he might lunge at MacBren. “Matters of life and death prevent me from journeying to Dunfermline. I must remain here until I may resolve our concerns, which are many.”

MacBren spat on the floor between them.