Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Will this all be over soon?" Tamsin asked the next morning as she rode beside Liam along the route that would lead over the moorland and back to the great forest.

"What will be over? Not our handfasting agreement, I hope."

"Not that! All the rest. We have the Rhymer's book now, which will not go to Edward. And you promised that after a little stay in the forest we could ride to Kincraig to make sure my sisters are well."

"Soon, aye, we can ride to Kincraig. You seem eager to go."

"I have been away too long, and so much has happened."

"It has. But patience, lass. I want to stay long enough for Henry, Finley, and Iain to return. When they find Robert Bruce, he will want to study the roster of support and also consider the information that Finley and Gilchrist, too, previously gathered about readiness among Scottish castles. I suspect Bruce may want to move on Dalrinnie soon if he has enough support in the area."

"Battle?" she asked.

"A takeover can happen peaceably, but it is less likely."

"And Malise?"

"That lad may not be long for this world." His voice went grim and flat.

"I do not want anyone's death on my account—or on your soul either. I just want peace and truth, and what is right."

"Truth to you is all. Ideals are all to you. To me, truth is a more malleable thing. We do what we must."

She shuddered. "If returning to Dalrinnie means death for some, I would not want to go back."

"Not everyone feels that way, my lass."

She did not reply, feeling dread churn within her as she rode. Lives might be lost at Dalrinnie if an attempt was made to regain it. Liam might be lost. She could not bear to consider it.

As they came closer to the forest fringe, she saw two men on horseback emerge from the tree cover and saw the gleam of light on steel. Two knights rode toward them, one in red, the other in blue.

"Who is that?" she asked.

Liam lifted a hand to shade his eyes. "Gilchrist, surely. And the other… My God," he said, "that is Gideon."

"In armor? Something must have happened!"

"Aye, some sort of trouble. Come ahead." He spurred his stallion to a canter across the long stretch of moor. She followed, but Liam reached his brothers first, talking with them as she rode up.

Seeing the twins in full knight's gear, she was awestruck by the sight—their size and hard beauty, their strong resemblance. But for their surcoats, she could not tell one from the other at first.

"I stayed on at Holyoak to help. Ah, Lady Tamsin," Gilchrist greeted as she drew her horse in beside Liam, greeting them.

"Gilchrist. And Brother Gideon," she said.

"Sir Gideon," he answered with a twist of his lips.

So Gideon had made a decision. What had prompted it? Trouble indeed, as Liam had said. Dread spun again in her center.

Liam explained quickly about meeting Henry Keith and the mission to bring the revenue and rosters to Bruce with Finley Macnab and Lindsay's man, Iain Campbell.

"Let us hope they return soon and safely. We may need their help." Gilchrist frowned. "We came out to find you. There is news."

"I thought so. Trouble?"

"Comyn's men went past Holyoak yesterday," Gideon said. "They wanted to be sure we saw them. An escort of a dozen knights with a cart. Carrying a cage."

"The empty cage we saw at Lochmaben," Gilchrist added to Liam. "But they have put it to use. There was a woman in the cage."

"They have Agatha," Gideon said.

"Jesu!" Liam burst out.

"They went to Lochmaben and then Lincluden, very deliberately," Gilchrist said.

"Where were they headed with the cart?" Liam asked.

"Dalrinnie. Sir Malise means to lure us there. Especially you, Liam."

"He is succeeding." Taking up the reins, Liam cantered over the moor toward the forest. Tamsin and the others followed in his wake.

As Tamsin rode between the twin brothers, no one spoke, their determined gazes straight ahead as they surged onward. Entering the forest, they slowed to a walk on a wide path between oak and hazel, birch and pine. Where the canopy grew heavy and shadowed, they followed narrowing pathways into the forest.

"Malise is furious,I tell you, Liam," Gilchrist said later. A few of them still sat around a fire contained in a circle of stones, deep in a clearing in the forest. After supper, the comforting smell of roasted meat, consumed with oatcakes and ale, lingered in the air. Though that spoke of home and friends, they planned invasion and rescue.

"He is a madman." Liam broke a twig and threw it into the fire, crackle and spark rising. Beside him, Tamsin sat quiet. He sensed her worry, felt it in his bones. He wished he could take it away. "Now he has our sister."

"He saw the banns posted at the village kirk near Holyoak," Gideon said. "While you were gone, he came to the monastery while you were gone, frustrated with his men's failure to burn it or to find either of you. He shouted at the gates to be let in, demanding to see Abbot Murdoch."

"And then?" Liam asked.

"Our reverend uncle came out to calm him. We stood in the yard ready to defend like warrior monks." Gideon huffed a flat laugh. "Malise finally left, still in a rage, insisting his betrothed was stolen from him and Liam Seton would pay for it."

"This because of your handfasting?" James Lindsay leaned forward. "It was your decision and naught to do with Malise."

"He will never accept that," Tamsin answered.

"He is furious over Edward giving me an order that Malise asked for," Liam briefly explained. "And he is still furious over what happened between him and Agatha years ago."

"Was Agatha not in a convent then?" Tamsin asked.

"Not then. She entered the convent after she refused Malise's offer of marriage," Gilchrist explained. "He wooed her, but she despised him for a vain and selfish man. Our father refused his suit, and Agatha refused him too. Malise could not tolerate it."

"How can he still be angry about that?" Tamsin asked.

"One day he waited outside the village kirk," Gideon said, "and accosted her, trying to convince her. Liam was there and came to her defense. The fight was fierce, and Malise was injured. Worse, Agatha was hurt terribly," he growled. "We wanted to kill the man. But Father took it to the magistrate, who fined Malise. When King Edward learned, he was furious with us, not with his favorite young knight."

"Bad blood, I see," Lindsay said.

Liam threw another stick into the fire just to watch it pop and burn. "Now he has Agatha, and he wants her brothers to come get her. It is a trap. And I will step straight into it."

Tamsin laid a hand on his arm. "Please do not—"

"I have to. We have to." He gestured toward his brothers.

"We must take the bait and turn this in our favor," Gilchrist said.

"When I saw Agatha in that cage," Gideon said, "I knew I had to leave Holyoak. Our uncle gave me his blessing, and I left with Gilchrist."

"We all knew you would do that someday," his twin said.

"But how do we get into Dalrinnie to get the abbess back?" Lindsay asked.

Gilchrist looked up. "Liam could get in as a harper. Wait. Your harp is broken."

"I have another now—but I will not play it for Malise Comyn."

"Liam would be recognized," Tamsin said. "But…tomorrow is Samhain. Oidhche nan Cleas, the night of tricks, when the veil between our world and the spirit world dissolves. People disguise themselves as otherworldly beings. If you did that—perhaps you could get inside the castle."

They all stared at her for a moment. "Lass, that is brilliant," Liam said. "All Souls' Eve, of course! A night of madness and revelry."

"Perfect," Gilchrist said. "Bonfires in the village, guisers going about with torches and bells, wearing masks and cloaks, singing and shouting—and threatening pranks."

"Some of those revelers could bring that celebration to the castle," Gideon said.

"I could think of a prank or two," Liam growled.

"But any of you might be grabbed at the gate," Tamsin said. "Perhaps it is not a good idea."

"Masks, my lass," Liam said. "Guisers. We go in as a group calling for cakes and ale. They will not notice the forfeited laird of Dalrinnie."

Gilchrist shrugged. "It could work. And we have no better plan."

"Ready by morning, then," Lindsay suggested. "It is a long ride to Dalrinnie. We will bring as many men as we can, leaving the rest to guard the camp. I can promise ten men or so. But it is not much against a garrison."

"It is a good number for guisers. We only need to get in and get Agatha just now," Liam said. "Though I would like a wee chat with Sir Malise. The rest of the dispute can wait until Bruce's men arrive. Henry brought him the news that Dalrinnie may be ripe for the taking. I intend to weaken Malise's hold—when Bruce is ready, the castle will fall more easily."

"We can gather some disguises—sheepskin blankets, soot, leaves and branches, great cloaks and such will help," Gilchrist said.

"I will go with you," Tamsin said.

"You will not," Liam said. "Stay with Kirsty and the rest. Stay safe."

She stared at him, her gaze silvery gray, somber, worried—verging on anger. He returned her unwavering gaze.

"I will go with you," she said, standing, sweeping away from the firelit circle.

*

Later, Liam retiredto the cocoon of blankets and sheepskins that he and Tamsin had shared in the forest clearing before. She lay there, awake, and when he murmured good night, she gave him a long, cool gaze, then turned her back without a word.

In the morning, he saddled his horse, then turned to saddle hers in silence. She accepted his assistance to mount and settled herself, still quiet. As they rode, he could not endure the silence any longer.

"I know you are furious with me," he murmured. "But I have to do this."

"I am not furious," she said. "I am afraid."

In the gloaming,the fading light spread long, soft blue beams through the forest surrounding Dalrinnie Castle. Everywhere Tamsin looked seemed edged with an almost mystical light—bare and lacy trees, steep slopes and deep scrub and bushes, soaring castle walls; a dozen men donning sheepskins and cloaks, rubbing soot on their faces, adding branches and leaves, even tying on antlers in eerie silence; while horses quietly grazed, tied far enough away so as not to be seen or heard from the castle walls.

Standing under the cover of the trees, Tamsin watched Liam and the others prepare. She was glad to see Sir Finley and Sir Iain with them now; they had returned to the forest just that morning, back from riding with Henry, able and willing to join Liam and the others in this mad venture. She had not seen Henry, who had gone on to Selkirk Castle by another route, taking no further risk of being seen consorting with men who frequented the forest.

She overheard Finley and Iain reporting that Bruce was gathering men to advance eastward, with an eye toward Dalrinnie and other castles. Liam replied, just then, that if battle came about he would gladly take part, and that one of them should ride to find Bruce once they were done with Samhain and had Agatha safe. Fear drove through her, hearing that, and she had walked away trembling.

Though she was glad that Liam and the rest had gathered more men, their number was still small. She continued to feel an awful sense of dread for the outcome and the risk to their lives. But she had no vision of this—no clear sense of what might happen. No warning to share beyond deep concern.

Gazing at the castle gates now, standing at the bottom of the forested slope, she thought of the day she had left Dalrinnie. Liam had found her in almost the same spot.

From here, she could see torches beginning to glow like golden stars in the village beyond the castle. Samhain had begun, and men and boys, women and girls too, were preparing for the celebration of All Souls' Eve. Soon they would come out of their houses to bother the demons and spirits and chase them away with fire, bells, shouts and songs, frightening disguises, and merry threats. Householders could demand songs or jests in return for a bannock, an oatcake, or a bit of dried fruit. Harmless enough.

Angling as she looked up at the castle, now she noticed the cage situated high on the parapet. Its iron bars were shaped like a macabre lantern. Inside, she saw a silhouette moving now and then. From her vantage point, it seemed that the cage sat on a corner of the wallwalk. Its top and bars were just visible in the crenel gap between two merlons.

When they had all entered this part of the forest not long ago, Tamsin and the others had cautiously approached to peer up at the castle walls. Seeing the cage that trapped Agatha inside, Gilchrist and Gideon had turned pale and walked away. Liam had uttered a hateful oath, and whacked his sword viciously against a tree.

"At least they did not suspend it outside the walls," he had said, and stomped off.

When he returned with a cooler head, Tamsin helped him don a sheepskin blanket for a cloak over chain mail. A tall, leafy hat over his chain mail coif gave him a giant's stature, for he was no small man to start. Finally, the soot he rubbed on his cheeks made his Nordic-blue eyes eerie as the moonlight rising above.

"Still angry with me, love?" he asked.

"Still afraid," she replied. He caressed her cheek.

"Tamsin," he murmured. "If you ever trust me, the time is now."

"I trust you with my heart and my whole soul. Will that do?"

"Aye then," he said, and kissed her brow. Then he turned away to join the others as they murmured plans in the gathering dusk.

"When the villagers arrive," she heard Liam say, "the guards should let them in by tradition. We will chance it happening tonight. You lads wander in with them through the gate and I will go another way."

"The tunnel you mentioned?" James Lindsay asked.

Listening, Tamsin remembered that he had once asked her why she had not simply taken the tunnel out of the castle on the day she escaped. It seemed so long ago.

"Aye. It starts in the hillside and goes under the postern gate to the back wall of the keep. I can get inside by the servant's staircase tucked in the width of the wall and get up to the parapet. It is narrow though. Only a few of us can go that way."

"Gil and I will go with you. We all learned the way as lads," Gideon said. "The rest can distract the soldiers with some commotion, while we go up to the parapet."

"Good. For now, we will wait on the villagers and more darkness," Liam answered. "Lady Tamsin can wait here with the lads who are tending to the horses."

Listening, Tamsin scowled. Waiting was not her preference, but Liam had been adamant that she could not risk going inside. Yet as she stood with nothing left to do, fear swamped her again. She knew how dangerous this was for all of them. If anything went wrong, Liam and the others could be killed.

"I will go up the hill to see if the castle gate is open," she told Liam.

He nodded. "Be careful. Stay out of sight."

Walking up the hill between the trees, she glanced again at the disturbing sight of the cage on the battlement. In the increasing darkness, a torch flared high up, revealing a girl's silhouette there. Someone moved nearby, presumably a guard. Tamsin moved upward, hidden by thick scrub and overgrown shrubs. She searched for a better vantage point to watch the gate.

Nearing the top of the slope where the massive castle block rose, she could not see the gate that was recessed behind the arched barbican. But she saw that the drawbridge was down. They were expecting someone—perhaps the Samhain revelers. Perhaps the garrison did not mind a little celebration.

Edging her way up the slope, she stood at the top, keeping near some upward-thrusting trees, careful not to be seen. But her cloak billowed outward in the wind, even as she held it down. As she turned to go, she heard horses' hooves thudding toward the drawbridge.

Were the guisers coming now, some on horses? Poised to run, she knew Liam would want notice when the guisers were coming. She could help in that at least. She turned.

Not guisers, but four knights riding for the drawbridge. Tamsin backed away, recognizing the leader—Malise Comyn. She whirled away, but heard one knight shout and heard another canter toward her over the grass.

She ran, cloak flying out, but felt her cloak yanked upward, the brooch and fastening choking her. Stumbling, she fell to a knee only to be dragged up by her cloak. Then strong gloved hands grabbed her arm and lifted her as if she were a straw doll, tossing her over the saddle and into his lap.

He controlled his horse, rounding it, and peered closely at her, ripping away the linen veil that obscured the side of her face. Sir Malise grinned.

"Lady Thomasina! I thought it was you. Welcome home."