Page 63 of The Lion

She prayed fervently until tears streamed down her cheeks. “Ye need to rest,” Annis said helping her to bed.

In the darkness, she reached for the opposite side of the bed. It was so very cold.

Chapter Seventeen

Darach stalked from one side of the room to the other. He stopped occasionally and peered through the window. Several times he’d gauged the possibility of climbing out of it. Although he could climb halfway down, the fall from there was too high and he’d probably break a leg.

The room faced the courtyard, so it would be impossible to escape using bedding without being caught. Besides, the damn Uisdein had thought of everything and had guards posted outside his door and two more below the window.

With an annoyed grunt, he looked up at the sky, noting that it was quite clear, the moon full and bright.

His jaw ached from the blows the day before and earlier that evening, when he’d rushed the man who’d brought him last meal. He had made it past him, but the guards at the door had not been as easy to get through.

Several blows were thrown, and unfortunately, he was the recipient of most.

Duncan would send an army for him. Once the Uisdein saw, he would either have him executed and declare war, or he would accede to discussions.

Although not afraid of death, he couldn’t help but think of Isobel. Once married, a man’s perspective changed. Before he would have fought to the death, not caring about more than what damage he could cause his opponent.

This time, however, when fighting the guards, he’d held back upon realizing he would not win. Not because he didn’t want to be injured, but because he wished to return to Isobel.

Angry at the situation, he went to the bed and lay atop the bedding fully dressed.

If what he expected was to be, as soon as the sun rose, the view from his window would be quite impressive.

At the sounds of raised voices, Darach jumped from the bed and rushed to the window. Throwing the drapes aside, he peered out, and his lips curved. The sun rose in the horizon giving him a clear view.

For as far as he could see, lines of men on horseback, evenly spaced apart, faced the keep. In the front were four horsemen, who he recognized as Stuart, Duncan, Ewan, and Gideon. His brothers made a point to stand out, their horses draped with the Ross colors, and they each wore their tartans, wrapped around their waists and over the left shoulder.

Behind each of his brothers were four warriors. Two armed with claymores and two archers. It was all a show of force and more for intimidation than practicality. Archers were normally kept to the rear and warriors, swords drawn, in front.

The entire army held swords or other weapons, prepared for battle. A fight he hoped would not come to be.

The Uisdein guard stood shoulder to shoulder atop the keep walls, while others mounted war horses in the courtyard.

It occurred to Darach that the Uisdein was not at all prepared. By his count, there were only about fifty men and horses in addition to another perhaps twenty atop the wall. What had the man expected?

That Clan Ross would not retaliate at him being taken by force?

“What an idiot,” he mumbled. After pushing the window frame and finding it nailed shut, he took a chair and broke the glass. Leaning out, he waved to his brothers.

Duncan saw him first and waved back.

The guards outside the chamber door kicked it open and burst into the room, swords drawn. Turning from the window, Darach gave them a droll look.

“Do ye bring me something to break my fast?” he asked, looking at the broken dishes from the night before. “Some ale, perhaps.”

A guard neared but didn’t attack. “My laird requests yer presence. Immediately.”

“Is that so?”

“Come with us.”

He took his time walking to the door and then looked at the guards who stood in the corridor until they parted and allowed him to walk past.

There were groups of people sheltered in the great hall. Women with children huddled together in groups, sheltering from the possibility of an attack.

A small boy rushed up to him and spit at his feet, then ran away screaming. Darach looked to the mother, whose eyes widened. “He will be a great warrior one day.”