Bride of Mist (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #3) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,95
told ye not to…and that ye weren’t much for followin’ orders.” Somehow she made it sound like a compliment.
“So what’s the message?” Adam repeated, snapping his fingers in front of the dazed maid’s face to get her attention.
She blinked, turning her focus to Adam. “Oh. He wants ye to know your sister is safe.”
“My sister. Where is she?”
“She’s in the dùn mara.”
“What’s that?”
“’Tis a…gaol o’ sorts.”
“What?” Adam exploded, drawing attention from the passersby.
Gellir gave him a chiding cuff on the arm.
“What?” Adam repeated under his breath. “She’s in a gaol? How can she be safe if she’s in a gaol?”
But Gellir’s mind was racing ahead. “Then where’s Dougal?”
“He’s in the dùn mara as well.”
Gellir shook his head. “Well, that’s lovely. ’Tis a good thing we came, Adam.”
“Is that it? Is that the message? My sister is safe? In a gaol?”
“Dougal said he needs your help,” the lass said.
“Does he?” Adam’s sarcasm was as thick as butter.
“What does he want us to do?” Gellir asked.
“Follow me,” she said. “I’ll get ye inside the keep.”
“And then what?” Adam asked. “Will they throw us in the gaol as well?”
Gellir could see Adam’s harsh words were bruising the maid’s feelings. He swatted Adam’s arm to hush him. “What’s Dougal’s plan?”
“He said your army is on its way.”
“Aye.”
“He fears his brother will do somethin’ reckless if Rivenloch attacks.”
“His brother?” Adam asked.
“The Laird o’ mac Darragh,” she said.
“Something reckless?” Gellir said. “Like what?”
Adam’s face darkened. “Like hurtin’ Feiyan.”
The maid nodded.
“So what do we do?” Gellir asked.
“He said ye must steal in,” she said.
“We are stealing in,” Adam said. “Or at least we were until you hailed us.”
“Your whole army must steal in,” she said.
“Our whole army?” Adam said. “’Tisn’t possible.”
“’Tis,” she said. “If ye follow me. I’ll show ye how.”
With the lass to guide them, they passed through the gates without incident, mingling with the clan folk, and crossed the courtyard. But when they entered the great hall, they caught the eye of a pair of nobles drinking by the hearth.
Gellir watched the men from the shadows of his hood. They finished off their cups and made their way toward the lass. The skinny one had a swollen nose. The one with piggish eyes was limping.
“Who’s this?” the pig-man snorted, giving Adam and Gellir a derisory glance.
“Rat-catchers,” the lass said. “I’m takin’ them to the buttery.”
The skinny one grimaced and spit on the floor. “Rats.”
“When ye’re finished,” the pig said to the lass, licking his greasy lips, “come up to the laird’s chamber. We mean to thank ye properly for your good deed today.”
The maid gulped, but managed a feeble smile. “There’s no need to thank me.”
“Nonsense,” the skinny one said with a smirk. “We insist.”
Gellir’s stomach churned. What this pair of brutes meant to thank the maid for, he didn’t know. But there was little doubt what they intended. And little doubt that the lass didn’t want any part of it.
What he knew about swiving would fit in a thimble. But he’d been taught early on about consent. And he had no intention of leaving the lass to these wolves.
“We’ll be waitin’,” the pig said.
When they’d gone, Adam whispered, “What was that about?”
The maid was quick to dismiss him. “Naught. Come. This way.”
The buttery was cool, dark, and deserted. The lass took a torch from the wall and led them to the back of the deep chamber. What appeared to be a wall cleverly concealed a set of stone steps.
“’Tis a secret passageway,” she explained. “It leads from the castle down through the cliff wall to the seashore below.”
“Brilliant,” Adam breathed.
“And from the seashore up to the castle,” Gellir realized.
“Right,” she said.
Gellir’s mind raced ahead. If there was a secret way into the castle, the army of Rivenloch could attack from inside the keep. The only problem was, judging by the size of the steps, they’d have to enter in a single line. It would be hard to launch an offensive when they could be picked off by enemy soldiers as they entered.
“Does Gaufrid know about this?” Gellir asked.
“Nay. Dougal said he’s ne’er used it.”
Lighting the way with her torch, the maidservant led them down stairs carved into solid rock. A few hundred steps later, they landed on sandy ground.
A diagonal crack in the rock let in a lance of sunlight that bisected a small cave. Shielding his eyes with his arm, Gellir blinked against the brightness of the setting sun as he moved toward the opening.