Page 56 of Highland Slayer
“That is how men communicate in battle so the enemy will not know.”
“I know,” Estevan said. “The Ormsfolk may already be here.”
Mateo drew in a long, pensive breath, ending with a couple of coughs. But his attention moved to the other side of the sanctuary.
“I think I know of someone who might know,” he muttered.
Slowly, Mateo stood up and staggered across the floor to Leonore’s cot. One of the nuns had just given her warm goat’s milk, so she was lying down, ready for sleep. Sometime during the day, someone had taken her mildewy, torn clothing, sponged her down with lavender water, and dressed her in a clean pair of breeches and a tunic like the other women were wearing. It wasn’t fashionable or even appropriate for a queen, but she was cleaned up and that was what mattered. When she saw Mateo and Estevan approach, she struggled to sit up.
“Great lords,” she said in Latin. “I am honored by your presence.”
Mateo took a knee in front of her, gently telling her to sit down when she tried to stand up. He forced a smile at her, though he’d never felt less like smiling in his life. He was weak and exhausted, but he didn’t have time for that.
He needed answers.
“May I ask a question, my lady?” he said.
She nodded. “Ask.”
“You know something of the Ormsfolk in battle, do you not?”
Her pleasant expression faded. “I have seen them fight,” she said. “When they made war on a village to the south, they took me with them and forced me to serve the men. But there have been other times.”
Mateo didn’t want to get into what she did when she “served” them. It was probably something unsavory that would only make him mad and further upset her were she forced to explain, so he ignored that part of her statement.
“Do they use bird sound to communicate in battle?” he asked.
She blinked, startled by the question. “Why do you ask?”
“Will you tell me?”
She was starting to quiver. He could see it. “Bird sounds,” she muttered. “I have heard them. Crows. Gulls.”
“Owls?”
“I’ve not heard owls, but it is possible.”
Mateo nodded, thanking her with a genuine smile, before standing up to face Estevan. “Theyarehere,” he whispered, his expression deadly. “You had better tell Titan and Rodion.”
Estevan nodded. “We already suspected, so all of the torches have been doused,” he said. “They are already on alert. But if they are here, why have they not come tae the gate? They dunna know if she is here or not. Why not come and ask?”
Mateo shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “Mayhap they will in the morning. We must be ready.”
“Aye,” Estevan said, determination in his tone. “Can ye take charge of the sanctuary and make sure it is fortified and ready?”
“I will,” he said. “We can bring any wounded here.”
“I would suggest having the sisters help ye,” he said. “Ye’ll need tae bring in water and food and anything else that wounded need.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
Regardless of the state of his health, Mateo was a damn fine knight, so Estevan left him in the sanctuary to organize it as a fortified area as he fled outside, into the fog and the cold. He had a thousand things to do and little time to do it. He was just getting his bearings when he heard a soft voice off to his left.
“Estevan?”
He turned to see Anaxandra coming out of the darkness. She had an oilcloth cloak over her shoulders and head, covering the crossbow and quill so the wood wouldn’t swell with the water.
“Ye put the torches out quickly,” he said. “Well done. Are ye going back tae the wall?”
