with a blade. To be honest, James was glad to have the lad in his ranks. He might be a bit course with his manners, but gallantry had no place on the battlefield.
“I’ve a missive for Sir James,” bellowed a messenger, holding a letter aloft and riding into the clearing.
James hopped down from his rock. “’Tis nigh time,” he said, taking the missive and examining the seal. At last, word had come from the king. He ran his finger under the wax, shook it open, and read.
“What does it say?” asked Torquil.
Davy stepped beside James and peered over his shoulder. “Where are we off to first?” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m ready for a fight.”
Torquil patted his sword’s hilt. “Past ready.”
Though James wanted to leap back onto the boulder and dance a reel, he held his tongue and affected a scowl. Bless the saints and all the stars, he’d been given word to take Castle Douglas and rid her of the infesting vermin. “…take no prisoners and ensure no Englishman ever again sets foot in her keep.”
“Torquil, ready fifty of our best soldiers to march,” he said, shifting his gaze to Caelan. “And I need a dozen of your best archers.”
“Not all of us?” asked Davy.
James started for the wood, motioning for Davy to follow. “’Tis too soon for most of them,” he said as they approached the river.
“You’re right.” Even though the rushing water provided enough noise so they would not be overheard, James checked the area to ensure no one was lurking. “We’re taking Castle Douglas.”
“Praises be.”
“I aim to burn it.”
Davy gaped so widely his jaw nearly hit his chest. “I beg your bloody pardon? Have you lost your mind?”
James tolerated no disrespect, except from Davy. The two of them were as close as brothers. Rather than argue, he shook the missive. “The Bruce is on the run—heading west where Edward’s forces cannot touch him. It will be a year or more afore he’s ready to ride into battle. Meanwhile, he’s asked us to conduct raids against English forces on our lands—small acts of rebellion to weaken them so when the time comes, they won’t stand a chance.”
“Does that wee letter tell ye to burn your own keep?”
“It demands that I ensure none of Edward’s men ever again set foot within her walls.” James slid the missive into his jerkin. “Look, if I cannot live in my own home in peace, no one will. Besides, if I raze the castle, they’ll ken I’ll stop at nothing to see justice.”
“They’ll think you’ve bloody lost your mind.”
“Then so be it.” James shrugged. “I care not what they think of me. But, by God, I want the bastards to fear me.”
***
Hiding in his father’s stables after dark, James met with Gilchrist, his da’s old butler, one of the few servants whom Clifford hadn’t murdered. “We attack at dawn. Ensure no one loyal to Douglas is trapped in the fray.”
“Aye, sir.”
James clapped the man on the shoulder. “’Tis good to see you.”
Gilchrist rubbed his hands together. “I cannot tell you how much it warms my heart to see you’ve grown into a man. You are the image of your da.”
“Truly?”
“He’d be brimming with pride if he could set eyes upon you now.”
“I pray he’s watching.” James gestured toward the keep. “Now go, you mustn’t be missed. I want nothing to alert Clifford of my presence.”
“Aye, sir.” Gilchrist started off, but before he reached the door, he stopped and turned. “Might I say ’tis a shame you do not plan to stay.”
“Soon I will return and set things to rights with clan and kin. You have my word.”
James watched as Gilchrist quietly returned to the keep, his back stooped and his strides stilted. The years had not been kind to the old man.
He remained in the loft for the night. Hiding just beyond the gate were Davy and the Douglas men. The plans had been carefully laid. Now all James needed was to wait.
He dared not close his eyes as he waited in the dark, the sounds of the animals below his only company.
Before dawn, he made his move. Inside the keep, it was inky black and though he’d been away for eleven years, he knew every passage, every hall, and each winding curve of the stairwell as if he’d never been gone.
When he arrived at the half-sized door to the wall-walk, he crouched in an archer’s recess and listened. Beyond, a breeze whistled. And soon, footsteps sounded.
Gilchrist had confirmed two guards