London to stand trial. His Lordship’s man-at-arms is assembling the retinue now.”
James scratched the stubble on his chin, itchy from a week’s growth. “Why London? Why not pass sentence here?”
“She claims she was defending herself.”
“Seems likely. And I’ll wager Edward would be elated to assume control of a highborn maid who is as bonny as Lady Ailish.” James scratched the itching stubble along his jaw. “But how did she overpower the scoundrel?”
Caelan shrugged. “I’m in no position to ask. I reckon doing so would only draw more attention than we need.”
“This could be the opportunity we’ve been waiting for,” said Davy.
“Agreed.” Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, a plan began to take root in James’ mind. “I want the pair of you to take the men and ride ahead. Set an ambush a good distance from Carlisle—far enough away to prevent someone from easily riding for reinforcements. And ensure you have the high ground.”
Caelan grinned, running his fingers along the string of the bow secured across his shoulder. “Aye, sir.”
“And you?” asked Davy. “Where will you be?”
“With luck, I’ll be riding beside Her Ladyship.”
“Luck?” The naysayer shook his head. “Since when has luck ever been on our side?”
“’Tis time for the tides to change, is it not, my friend?” He gave Davy’s shoulder a reassuring clap. “If I am denied, I will follow as closely as possible without drawing attention. Now go.”
After racing back to his pallet, James collected his gear, then headed to the stables to saddle his horse.
When he rode beneath the archway leading into the courtyard, two sentries crossed their pikes in front of him. “Halt!”
“Allow me to pass.”
“Stand down.” The man-at-arms who had hired him marched forward. “You ought to be on your pallet, Jimmy. You are needed on the ramparts tonight.”
James placed his hands on his horse’s withers and leaned forward. “I’m told you are leading the Lord Warden’s army southward with a dangerous prisoner.”
“If we are, it is no concern of yours.”
“But what if I want to make it my concern, sir?”
“I’ve already assembled my men—soldiers who have served His Lordship for years, mind you. I need trustworthy men who know how to soldier.”
“But I am your best sword. There is no one who can better protect a prisoner than me. Besides, I have no intention of remaining a night watchman for the rest of my days.”
The man-at-arms glanced over his shoulder, then squinted his way. “Take up the rear. But if you make one questionable move, I will personally see you hanged.”
“Aye, sir. You can count on me, sir,” James said, though doing so nearly killed him. And he didn’t wait for the man to entertain a change of heart. He immediately turned his mount and headed for the end of the retinue.
Only a dozen soldiers were in formation, sitting side by side on their horses. And James made the thirteenth.
“What are we waiting for?” he asked the guard in front of him.
“They’re bringing out the prisoner.”
James gulped as he shifted his gaze to the postern tower.
Ailish stepped into the courtyard flanked by two guards, her hands in manacles. Beneath the tie of her cloak, a swath of dried blood stained her throat.
Ye Gods, the bastard truly had tried to kill her. Perhaps that’s why the Lord Warden hadn’t sent her directly to the gallows.
As she swept her gaze across the scene, James pulled his hood lower on his brow. If she recognized him and it showed on her face, all might be lost. As he dipped his chin, he watched her through the fan of his eyelashes.
The sennight she’d spent in prison had not been kind. But even though she was thinner, her hair matted, and her clothing soiled, the woman walked with her head held high.
By God, she was as regal as a queen. Who knew what horrors she’d endured? Clearly, His Lordship’s hospitality had been cruel and unpleasant.
Guilt crept up James’ nape. He should have risked everything and attacked before it came to this. But he’d been so hell-bent on slipping her out and avoid being killed in the process—it would have slayed him if she had been harmed in a botched escape attempt. Ferreting her out of the cell was the easy part. Escaping Carlisle alive was quite a different matter. The loss of his kin in Douglas had played too heavily on his conscience. This was war. In war, there were casualties. If any man was afraid to die, afraid to take risks, then he was already