easy climb too, if you think to keep your back braced against the wall as you are going. Easier” he said to Gil, “than clambering up a tree, even with one wing damaged!”
“I will take my chances here, Puck,” Gil said grimly. “I prefer to die with a bow in my hand, thank you, not wedged up some tunnel like a frightened rat.”
Alaric was about to join the argument when three of the Wolf’s men who had been left on guard in the corridors, came staggering through the door. All three were badly wounded and out of arrows. Helped down the stairs, they gasped a warning that De Gournay’s mercenaries were in the cellars and closing fast. There were only three, perhaps four men left between the donjon and the tide of murdering guardsmen, but how long those men could last before they too had to retreat, was anyone’s guess.
“That settles it then; we use the shaft,” Lucien said, and reached to arm himself. A crossbow was thrust into his hand and he found himself staring into eyes as gray and brooding as his own. The boy had gathered the guards’ weapons and quivers of bolts without being ordered to do so, despite the terrible pain of his wound.
“Do you think you can climb, lad?”
“I think so, milord. Yes milord, I can climb.”
“Good. Sparrow, off you go again. Take the boy with you and if you value your scrawny neck, you will not let him fall.”
“Aye, lord, and good luck to you too.”
“Gil—” The Wolf turned to the master archer and the look in his eye warned against any further arguments. “You and Sir Roger are in charge of the wounded men. Use ropes if you have to, but get them up that shaft and yourselves after them.”
“What about Robert?” she asked quietly. “He needs more than ropes, and he cannot make the climb.”
“Robert can bloody take care o’ himself,” the Welshman gnashed through his teeth. “I need no flame-topped wench keening after me. Now go! Do as the laird says, or by the saints, I’ll not only show ye how swift I can climb, but I’ll do it kicking yer backside up ahead of me!”
When Gil had moved away, the Wolf dropped onto his knee beside the burly Welshman. “Robert—”
“Do not trouble yerself, laird. I am almost dead now, and surely would be long afore ye could think of a way to winch me hand over heel up a wee tunnel. At least here, I can still be of some use to ye. Give me weapons—arm as many of the poxy crossbows as ye can set beside me, an’ I’ll keep the bastards honest as long as I can.”
Lucien grasped the Welshman’s big paw of a hand. “You have been a loyal friend, Robert. I have envied you your courage and your laughter, and have been honoured to have you fight by my side.”
“Bah! The honour was mine in knowing there are still men who fight for what is good an’ just. As for courage—ye have all that ye need and more … and still more waiting for ye in some godforsaken place called the eagle’s eyrie. Save her, laird. She’ll help ye laugh again, see if she does not.”
Alaric had come up beside them and his attention was split between listening to their exchange and listening to the sudden, ominous silence coming from the top of the stairs.
“I do not think there will be any others joining us,” he said tautly as the Wolf joined him in staring up at the dimly lit archway.
“Did you get the wounded away?”
“Aye. Sir Roger argued to remain behind, but I threatened to throttle him myself if he did not start climbing. Lucien … the other prisoners cannot be moved. Most of them … have no hands or feet.”
The Wolf’s gaze followed Alaric’s to the row of low, dark cells that lined the walls. For a long moment he stood in stony silence, his face expressionless, yet more ominous than a gathering storm.
“I put the worst of them out of their misery,” Alaric said softly. “That leaves only the three of us and—” He tilted his head meaningfully toward the workbench where Stutter sat cradling his brother’s head to his heart.
“Go,” the Wolf said tersely. “We will be right behind.”
“God be with you, Robert,” Alaric said quickly, touching the brave man’s shoulder before he too was gone.
“Stutter, you are next. Off you go.”
“I … cannot leave Oswald,” said the desolate twin. He