In no time they reached the village. Malcolm let out a shrill whistle and pulled up hard on the reins in front of the stable. Two youths came out in a rush, and one immediately caught the mare’s bridle. Malcolm barked orders as he leaped from his horse, turning to help her down. Not even sparing a moment to ask the boys what had happened, he took her hand and pulled her to the ferry landing at a jog. Still she couldn’t speak.
A small crowd waited to be taken to the safety of the curtain wall. They all watched the ferry return from the island, and she wondered how many trips had already been made. She withdrew, going deep inside herself, as if doing so could erase the fear and the icy dread filling her heart. Madame Giselle’s words echoed in her mind. Whatever situation had caused the warning tones to be sounded, it could lead to Malcolm’s peril.
Slightly more than two months had gone by since she’d come back to this time and place, and the specter of the task she’d been given had hung over her like a dark cloud. At times, she almost forgot. The warning brought it all back.
Her hands hung at her sides, and she stared at nothing. Malcolm twined his fingers with hers behind the folds of her gown. She gripped his hand tight.
“Once we land, go to my mother’s solar.” Malcolm put his hands on her waist and lifted her to the ferry. Taking his place beside her, he bent to whisper into her ear. “Dinna even think to argue. Once I know what is going on, and I’ve seen to our people’s safety, I will come for you.”
All she could do was nod, grateful he continued to hold her hand. More than anything, she needed to feel connected to him. With so many strong emotions emanating from all directions, she couldn’t hold a thought of her own or stem the rising panic. The ferry landed, and Malcolm lifted her to shore. His strides were long and fast, and she had to run to keep up with him through the portcullis.
The inner bailey teemed with villagers and warriors armed and on full alert. Malcolm headed up the steps to the doors of the keep, stopping at the top to face the bailey. Scanning the courtyard and the ramparts, he shouted orders in Gaelic to those milling about. His voice acted like a catalyst, galvanizing everyone. Suddenly, every man, woman and child moved with purpose and direction.
Chaos reigned inside the great hall. A single man, his clothing and hair singed and sooty, his face and hands bloody, sat on a bench before the hearth, surrounded by angry men and women all shouting at once. Alethia spotted Hunter and Tieren in the mob, their eyes wide with fright. She caught Hunter’s eye and signed for them to come to her. Malcolm took command, ending the chaos and issuing orders. The sound of his booming voice echoed behind her as she led the boys toward the stairs.
Around a corner, Beth leaned against a wall as if she’d been waiting for her. She pressed a finger to her lips, grabbed Alethia’s wrist and pulled her along to the narrow back stairway, the same one Alethia had used when sneaking to the lake to bathe so many weeks ago. They ascended to the first landing and turned into a short, narrow hall ending at an opened door of oak. Again Beth cautioned them to be quiet, and they slipped silently through the entrance.
There, in the minstrels’ gallery, Elaine and Lydia, along with several other women, sat huddled on the floor with their backs against the balcony wall overlooking the great hall. All eyes turned to her as she entered. Elaine motioned to a spot next to her, and the others scooted over to make room for the boys. Alethia took her place and reached for Elaine’s hand. Hunter climbed into her lap, and Tieren pressed himself close to her side.
From their place they could hear everything being said. Malcolm ordered the women out of the hall and called for Robley, Liam, Angus and Galen. He sent someone for ale and food for the messenger, and told him to wait until those he’d summoned arrived before telling his tale. He spoke in Gaelic, but Alethia caught the gist of what was said.
The sounds of people coming and going continued until all were assembled, and Malcolm bid the messenger to speak. The bloodied man told his tale in a loud voice for the benefit of all, and the women surrounding her gasped in shock.
“The Comyns have taken Meikle Geddes,” Elaine whispered in her ear. “Uncle Robert and Aunt Rosemary reside there. ’Tis one of many MacKintosh holdings.” She gripped Alethia’s hand as the conversation continued below. “Several of our clansmen are dead, and their cottages have been burned to the ground. Our people have driven the livestock into the surrounding forest, and they hide there now. Those who are able will come here in the cover of night. Those who are not will continue to hide in the forest. A number of men will stay to protect them and to care for the animals.”