Highland Warlord - Amy Jarecki Page 0,64

First, he’d needed to learn the inner workings of the Carlisle guards as well as earn the trust of the others—though truly ingraining himself among them would take far longer than time allowed. No matter how fast he made friends, he and Davy were still looked upon as outcasts. But the Lord Warden’s man-at-arms had been impressed with James’ fighting prowess, which he prayed purchased enough goodwill to find a way to rescue Ailish.

As he passed a chicken house, a cock crowed. And after checking over his shoulder to ensure he hadn’t been followed, he pushed through the tower’s entry. It wasn’t a residence like a keep. On the ground floor, an army of men slept on pallets in front of a hearth, its coals nearly burned to cinders. On the balls of his feet, James soundlessly hastened for the stairwell and climbed up two flights of uneven stone steps.

Before he stepped out into the passageway, he fingered his dirk, yearning to wrap his hand around the hilt yet knowing he should not. Instead, he forced a grin—one that made him look like an affable, goodly man. Which he was not. He’d sooner slit this varlet’s throat than extend the hand of friendship. In truth, withholding his wrath was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.

Not yet.

“Hello the tower,” he said walking forward.

Propped on a stool and leaning against the wall, the guard sputtered and shook himself awake. “Jimmy? What the blazes are you doing here?”

“My patrol just ended. Thought you might want to join me for a pint afore we head for our pallets.”

The lauds bell rang and, just as James expected, footsteps resounded from the stairwell, followed by the stirrings of the men below.

The guard grinned. “Don’t mind if I do.”

James pointed down the corridor. “I heard you’re guarding a princess.”

“Hardly. The first night the woman carried on like a shrew. Now she refuses to utter a bloody word.”

James’ fingers twitched. If only he could wrap them around the disrespectful lout’s throat. Instead he moved to the entrance of the passageway. Aye, it would be easy enough to take the lass out of the cell, but then there were a thousand men to contend with once they left the tower. “How many prisoners are under your guard?”

“Just the one at the moment.”

“What does His Lordship aim to do with her?”

“Dunno. He sent word to the king. The woman’s uncle as well. Truth be told, I’m surprised Caerlaverock hasn’t shown his face by now.”

“Mayhap he does not want to claim her,” James said.

“I would not,” the guard replied with a smirk as his replacement stepped into the chamber. They swarmed around this place like flies.

James drummed his fingers on the hilt of his sword. It would be so easy to gut them both and take the keys. In no time, he’d be holding Lady Ailish in his arms.

But another five guards filed into the chamber.

Fie!

“How about that pint?” asked the guard. “I assume you’re putting forth the coin.”

***

Ailish hadn’t seen hide nor hair of James since she’d seen him sparring in the courtyard a sennight ago. Where was he now? Had he left Carlisle? Was she now on her own?

After all, if what the Lord Warden had said was true, the postern tower was as impenetrable as the Tower of London. No one ever escaped and not even the Black Douglas could spirit her away.

I refuse to believe he has abandoned me!

Ailish would go to her grave before she named James Douglas or any of the men as her accomplices.

The door clicked. “You’ve a visitor,” announced the guard.

Her heart raced. Had her knight in shining armor come at last? Did he have a plan? Had he found Harris? She did her best to smooth out her veil, then stood expectantly with her hands clasped.

As soon as her uncle sauntered into the cell, her spirits sank to her toes.

“Well, well,” he said, his lips disappearing into a thin line, his shark-like eyes accusing. “It seems I cannot be rid of you. I never should have left you alive. You and that insolent brother of yours.”

Ailish tightened her grip, making her knuckles white. “What have you done with Harris?”

“Humph.” Herbert raised a kerchief to his nose and moved to the window. “It wreaks in here.”

While he had his back turned, she stooped and slipped the dagger from her hiding place. “I agree. The odor has grown quite obnoxious given the present company.”

“You always did have a barbed tongue.”

“Oh? I