Page 106 of Wicked Rivals
“Men on the turrets,” Jonathan said.
“Turrets? Lord…any crossbows?” Lucien muttered.
Cedric chuckled until Ashton glared at him. He cleared his throat and glanced away, as though trying very hard not to laugh. “Lucien, your sister should have been here. I imagine Lysandra could have built us a trebuchet.”
Lucien laughed. “I dare say she could. But we’d need something capable of hurling more than snowballs at the enemy.”
“Anyway…” Jonathan continued. “Those are just lookouts. There are more inside. I think they are expecting us to come after Rosalind with a small army.”
Charles nodded. “Jon’s right—there’s something wrong about this, Ash. They’ve got men posted at the front gate and men on the rooftops in pairs. I don’t have a clue how we will get inside. I can’t guess the numbers we might face inside either.”
“Well, Ash, what’s your plan? We’ll do whatever you ask, of course,” Godric assured him.
Ashton’s throat tightened. They had come all this way to face certain danger and poor odds.
“I…I appreciate that you all came with me. But I should go on alone. We didn’t expect them to beat us back to their fortress. I cannot ask any of you to risk yourselves, not for Rosalind.” For a long second his friends glared at him, their expressions hard.
Charles huffed as though offended. “You’re a daft fool if you think we’ll let you go on alone. That being said, I have a plan.” A wicked grin spread across his face.
“Bloody hell, that’s always a bad sign,” Cedric muttered.
“Charge in and beat them soundly, I suppose?” said Godric.
“Ash,” Charles continued, ignoring the others, “you take my horse and ride up to the gates. Demand an audience with Rosalind. Her father and brothers will refuse at first. Tell them you won’t leave until you see her, and that once you have said your piece, you’ll return to London. The rest of us will gain entrance to the castle byanymeans necessary.”
“Notice how he leaves out the details on what those means are,” Cedric whispered to Godric, who nodded.
“And then?” Ashton demanded. Any plan Charles concocted was bound to end up in trouble.
“Well…we’ll need to find a way to distract her father and brothers while you whisk your lady love away to safety.”
“Bravo!” said Cedric.
“Brilliant plan,” said Godric.
“Best plan I’ve heard in ages.” Ashton’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Though there are a few flaws,” Jonathan noted.
“Mostly flaws, really,” Ashton agreed.
“Actually, it’s a terrible plan,” Cedric groaned.
“Utter rubbish,” Godric concurred.
“We’re doomed.” Ashton sighed. At this point he was worried their position would be given away by Jonathan’s laughter. “It’s also the only plan we have,” Ashton said. “Charles is right. They won’t open their doors to all of us.”
He turned his focus back to the castle. Rosalind was somewhere inside there. All alone and probably hurting if her father had exercised his temper upon her again. There was no choice but to risk everything to get to her.
“Jon, let me borrow your horse.” He nodded in the direction of the woods where they’d hidden their coach and horses.
“Of course.” Jon regained his composure and followed him, hunched over to keep out of sight. Once they were deep in the trees, they stood from their crouched positions.
“He’s a good beast. Try not to let the Scots take him.” Jonathan patted the black gelding’s neck before he untied the reins and offered them to Ashton.
“I’ll do my best. Tell the others I said thank you. For everything.” Ashton couldn’t put into words what the League meant to him or how he’d feel if he lost any of them.
“They know.”
