Page 120 of Highland Ruse

A tall figure appeared at the high edge of the castle, his arms folded behind his back with an arrogance only Seumas MacKenzie could wield. “I welcome ye to try.”

He turned to a man on his right, who held an arrow nocked. “Attack.”

The archer hesitated. Negotiations prior to battle were sacred, even among paid men.

“Attack.” The word came louder, and this time the archer did not hesitate. But Kaid had already melted back into the shadows of the forest with the rest of the force. The arrow shot through the air and landed soundly into the rich soil, the head sunk almost midway to the shaft in the wet earth.

The MacLeod and MacKenzie archers took aim and fired along with Percy. Her confirmed hits were easier to spot. The men she shot did not pitch over the castle, dead or soon to be—they were merely hit in the arm, the hand, disabling them from attacking further without being lethal.

Delilah adjusted her grip on the hilt of her sword, more out of anxious anticipation than necessity. Once they breached the castle walls, she could find Claire.

A glow of light flared to Delilah’s left, and her heartbeat quickened.

It was time.

The pungent odor of sulfur tainted the air, followed by the hiss of a flame catching. Delilah looked to the left, where Isabel’s exotically painted face was lit in a brilliant wash of fire.

Cupped in her palm was the thick round pot filled with gunpowder and plugged with wax. The string jutting from the milky center fizzled and smoked. Isabel grinned and rolled the pot over the cobblestone walkway to the massive wooden door barring their entrance into the castle.

The flame swirled and danced during the pot’s path toward its destination while the gritty warbling sound of clay on stone captured everyone’s attention. The pot bumped harmlessly into the door and remained there for a moment before the flame met the wax.

The flame went out.

A disappointing fraction of a second sucked at Delilah’s spirit before the pot exploded and left fine dust raining down where it had once been.

While the door still stood, a majority of the bottom portion was gone and a large crack had appeared at its center.

One more would do it.

And it was already rolling toward its destination. This one exploded with more expediency than the first, and with far greater impact. Fragments of the door flew into the air and landed on the stone ground with hearty clunks.

Kaid’s men cried out once more and together they rushed toward the open entrance while the MacLeod and MacKenzie archers covered their attack. Delilah let herself be taken with the rush of bodies along with Sylvi.

Everyone caught at the entrance for the briefest of moments, bodies all tangled against one another in haste to get in, until one person pushed free and made room for the next.

The excitement and energy crackled amid the chaos and left Delilah’s pulse thrumming in her ears until all she could hear was the pounding of her heart and the shouts of men.

She shouldered her way into the castle. The barren hall greeted her with memories she did not welcome.

She was finally inside the castle.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Delilah ran down the first hallway where she knew the doorway to the dungeon would be. Despite her haste, she was aware of every sound, every movement, her body on high alert for any kind of danger.

She didn’t want to descend to the dungeon any more than she wanted to be in the castle. But if Claire was down there…

Delilah shuddered at the thought of the girl huddled in the dark, frightened and alone. Delilah’s arms ached for the sweet weight of the child in her arms where she could be safe.

Delilah pushed on the door to the dungeon. A hearty clack met her ears.

Locked.

She dropped to her knees and pulled the pick from her hair. Her fingers trembled.

She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out in an attempt to calm herself. The shaking stilled enough to allow her to slip the pick into the gaping lock.

Footsteps sounded to her right, heavy and rapid. She turned to the sound to find one of the MacKenzie’s paid mercenaries charging toward her. She leapt to her feet and swept her sword free.