Page 81 of The Daughters of Avalon
Shivering beside him, Elspeth rubbed her arms, whispering for Malcom’s ears alone, “She’s out there. Ifeelher.”
“Aye well, unless she can walk through walls,” he said, “she’ll remain out there. We have supplies enough to outlast them.”
That didn’t seem to ease the frown from Elspeth’s face, but, in fact, the fortress was as impenetrable as she was unsightly, and Malcom had never cared much for aesthetics over advantage. Thirteen long years of warfare had never given him much leave to consider anything but the protection of his people, and, besides, Aldergh was the manifestation of a paranoid man, whose sole purpose in life had been the defense of his lands. Hugh FitzSimon had cared more for Aldergh than he had for his own flesh and blood.
Elspeth hugged herself. “Please, please do not discount her, Malcom. I do not know what she is capable of.”
Hearing the note of fear in his wife’s voice, he spun her about so that she could look into his eyes, and he asked her firmly but gently, “Would you have me return you to your mother?”
“Like so much chattel?”
“Precisely,” he said. “And lest ye tell me you would leave me, I would never willingly let you go.” He offered a sore attempt at a smile. “I did warn you, did I not?”
Her lips quivered in a sore attempt at a smile, and her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head, then nodded, clearly confused. “But if it would keep you and your people safe from harm…”
“Ourpeople,” Malcom reminded as he brushed a finger across the bruise that was forming on her cheek—God’s truth, he wished that Daw were alive, so he could beat him to a pulp. “You are my wife, Elspeth. We took vows.” He showed her the whiteslip at his wrist—trimmed and tucked, but still there. “I intend to keep them.”
Already, he’d come too damned close to losing her, and he shuddered to think what might have happened had Merry Bells not been so ready to defend her. He smiled. “Youare the lady of Aldergh and there is not a man or beast behind these walls who would not die to protect you, as you would no doubt do for them. Would you not?”
Elspeth nodded, a single tear slipping through her lashes, and Malcom pulled her close and turned about to watch the siege unfold. “I am your champion,” he reminded her. “Remember?”
“I remember,” she said softly, and he crushed her against him, praying to God that he would rise to the occasion.
For all herhusband’s bold, sweet words, he still did not realize what she had done.
After two days without word from David, Elspeth began to fear the possibility of Cameron’s and Wee Davie’s capture. It seemed to her that no more than thirty minutes could have passed between his leaving Aldergh and Stephen’s arrival, but she prayed with all her heart that Cameron had spied the approaching army and that the three of them had taken shelter without Stephen any wiser.
When three days later there came no messenger, no demands and there seemed to be no sign of Cameron’s presence anywhere near the siege camp, Elspeth began to take heart.Sweet fates, please, please,she prayed.
Alas, after her meddling was discovered, Malcom might wish to return her to her mother, after all, though in the meantime,she fully intended to do her part to keep his household as best she could.
By now, Cora had awakened, but she remained indisposed. Until such time as she could return to the household chores, Elspeth took it upon herself to lead. All day long, she flitted between Cora’s sickroom, tending the maid’s wound and then marching through the keep, with Cora’s daughters en tow. “Art certain mother will be alright?” each girl asked in turn.
“I promise,” Elspeth reassured, but she daren’t explain how and why she knew it would be so: Of course, she had performed a bit ofmagikto speed the maid’s recovery—not so much as to raise suspicion, just enough to ensure their mother would be on her feet before too long.
It wasn’t entirely a selfless act. As much as Elspeth loathed to confess it, she needed Cora desperately. She was completely ignorant about the running of a household—and lost.
She started with the things that made sense to her: The feast for her nuptials was postponed again. They would need all the supplies they could get for the siege to come.
Of course, Malcom had reassured her: There was plenty enough for everyone and Elspeth need not worry. Even without the livestock from their fields or the season’s yield, they had food enough for more than a year.
Malcom also kept a fair share of cattle, goats and hens safely within the castel walls. At the moment, the entire premise was a living crush—animals and people sleeping all about—in the hall, in the bailey, on the ramparts, in the corridors. The only place that was free of bodies at night happened to be the stairs.
During the day, children rushed about, chasing chickens and goats, not entirely aware that this was not a celebration. Elspeth supposed that until the first casualties were lost, they would think it no more than an adventure.
Unfortunately, with so many tasks to manage, she needed every woman she could get. All the men were expected to bear arms in shifts, including the butcher, the barber and the blacksmith.
Elspeth gathered up the children and took them to her solar leaving them in Ellyn’s care while Agnes continued to follow her about. And despite their constant barrage of questions, Elspeth was grateful for the help, because, in truth, when she excelled at one thing, she failed miserably at another.
At night, Malcom tiptoed over sleeping people en route to their bed, and he was gone by morning light, without so much as a complaint, but Elspeth missed him desperately. So, tonight, with her keys jangling on her new chatelaine’s belt, she swept through the kitchen, making certain that supper was progressing, and then, once the stew was complete, she poured a trencher full for her husband, and thinking that once they used up the last of the meat they’d butchered for the feast, she would see to it that they kept the remainder of the livestock for milk, cheese and eggs. It wouldn’t do to be killing their best means for supplies. And anyway, they didn’t need meat; she knew a hundred ways to flavor a good porridge to please the palate.
She made her way across the Bailey, with the trencher in hand, careful not to spill it. It wasn’t until she was near the stairs that she noticed the stench that filled the air, and her heart wrenched. Dropping the trencher, she ran toward the parapets.
For nearly an hour,Malcom watched as fields were set ablaze, surrounding the castel with burning crops and black smoke that puffed into an ever-darkening sky. But, then, rather than dissipate, those clouds seem to be gathering on the horizon, tumbling and turning.
All this time he’d been preparing for a good, long siege, but now he realized an attack must be imminent—all without ever having sent a single messenger, or any attempt at negotiation.
Furious now, incensed by the betrayal, he ordered pitch vats to be established at intervals along the wall. These would be used for men scaling their walls or battering with rams. Fortunately, they had more than enough missiles to launch a sustained attack. Armload after armload, his men brought and stacked supplies between machicolations. He’d slept little more than an hour or two at intervals, and the stress was beginning to darken his mood until it was black as the clouds gathering in the distance.
