moving, then the sound of water sloshing as he set the auger to a plank and began to bore, turning the handle swiftly enough to splash. The sound seemed loud, but she doubted that it would alert anyone unless that person was nearby. And, thanks to Boreas, she knew that no one was.
Fin’s work went smoothly despite devilish conditions.
The rough-hewn planks sat tightly between two rows of distantly spaced support posts, just as Aodán had described them. The water of the loch crept higher as he stood there, but he had to bore near the center of the planks to have any hope that his two vertical, closely spaced lines of holes would cause them to break.
The higher the water rose, the more weight it would exert on the lower planks. He knew that once they cracked and water started flowing with speed, its force would carry away the planks and all that the Comyns had piled behind them.
Boring steadily, plugging each hole as he went, he wound twine around the rag plugs, cutting lengths long enough to connect them all. Crouching lower as it became necessary, working with his head underwater now most of the time, he worked his way down from the waterline, finding it harder to keep his balance as he bent and harder to press the auger efficiently into the wood.
Before he had finished boring the third plank from the bottom, he realized that the second one was too far under for him to crouch without floating. Surfacing, trying to think and thinking only how cold he was, he muttered a frustrated curse.
The water stirred, and he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Reaching for her, he discovered that she was naked.
“What’s wrong?” she murmured. “Can I help?”
“You are supposed to be watching for Comyns,” he muttered back.
“Boreas is doing that. I will hear him growl if he hears or smells anyone coming, but we need to finish this and get back.”
“I still have to bore holes in the two bottom planks,” he told her. “Sithee, the lower boards bear more of the water’s weight than the upper ones do, and so the dam will most likely break from the bottom up. But when I bend so low, my body wants to float. Do you think you can hold me down?”
“I’ll stand on you, if necessary,” she said. “I can balance myself against the dam. You need only touch my foot when you need to come up for air.”
Although Catriona had expected Fin to refuse her help, he said, “If you stand on the slope, you can step onto my back when I bend over. Then I can brace myself as I work. And I’ll warn you, aye, before I straighten up.”
He finished quickly after that, although standing on him as he worked proved to be more difficult than she had expected. She nearly fell in more than once, and just before he touched her foot, she heard an odd moaning sound and felt the planks against which she was steadying herself shudder. She shuddered, too, but relaxed when nothing further happened.
She got off him and moved to where she could stand, and he straightened but only to scoop her up and carry her out of the water to where they had left the rope.
She saw Boreas rise from the shrubbery above them, alert to their approach.
When Fin set her on her feet, she reached for the rope, but he said, “Never mind that now, lass. We should get round to the other side of the hill because the dam may break with enough force to fling plank pieces and other debris about.”
“But we must pull out the plugs first.”
“Nay,” he said. “The two lower planks had begun to bow outward, and I heard creaking, so I stopped. It’s too dangerous now to go back in.”
“I did hear an odd moan,” she said, feeling for her kirtle. “But I don’t hear anything now. How long will it be before it breaks?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But unless you want to go naked, hurry.”
Keeping an ear cocked for other ominous sounds as she dealt with her wet kirtle, she could see enough of his shape to know that he had already put on his tunic, belt, and dirk. Before slinging on his sword, he helped her with her lacing.
As he did, he said, “The pressure at the bottom will grow as the water rises, and I do think that it must be about to go. But