Elizabeth sensed that something was bothering Helen, but it wasn’t until the end of the day when they were alone in the tent that she finally spoke.
“It is probably not my place to say anything—and if I am overstepping my bounds, I apologize—but I can’t stand by and watch you make the same mistake I did, indeed if that’s what you are doing.”
Elizabeth had no idea what she was talking about. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“That’s because I’m doing a horrible job of this. I’m not usually so interfering.” The lovely redheaded healer took a deep breath. “I couldn’t help but notice how you looked at Thom MacGowan. Not just today, but before at Roxburgh.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in horror. Oh God, was it that obvious?
Lady Helen put her hand on her arm to comfort her—or maybe to steady her, as she suddenly felt wobbly. “Don’t worry,” she assured her. “I’m sure no one else has noticed. But I guess you could say that I know what to look for. I’ve been where you are right now.”
“But you are married to the man you love.” Elizabeth didn’t realize how revealing her words were until they were out. A blush heated her cheeks.
“Magnus was not my first husband.”
Elizabeth had no idea. “He wasn’t?”
Lady Helen shook her head. “I was married to his best friend for a short while—a few days, actually. William left on a mission the night of our wedding and was killed shortly afterward in an explosion.”
William . . . like their son?
Helen nodded, hearing the silent question. “Yes, our son is named after him.”
Elizabeth’s heart immediately went out to her. “I’m so sorry.”
“He was a wonderful man, and his passing was a great loss to all who knew him—Magnus and my brother suffered horribly. But I did not love him and never should have married him. It was unfair to him, and nearly cost me the love of the only man I’ve ever loved. A man whom I’ve known since I was a girl.”
Just like me.
“Why did you marry him?”
Lady Helen shrugged helplessly, as if knowing that the explanation wasn’t going to be sufficient after the fact. “There were so many reasons. My family wanted it for one—William and my brother Kenneth were foster brothers.” The similarity with James and Randolph’s close friendship was not lost on her. “Kenneth and Magnus despised each other.”
“But they are such good friends now.”
Helen laughed. “Don’t let them hear you say that, they’d be horrified. Our families were involved in a long feud. Choosing Magnus would have meant not choosing my family.” Perhaps Elizabeth could understand that as well. “When I married William, I thought Magnus was lost to me. I’d hurt his pride in refusing him.” She gave her a look as if that might sound familiar, too. “He was stubborn. He told me he didn’t love me anymore. It wasn’t until after the ceremony that I realized he’d lied. But by then it was too late.”
“As it is for me,” Elizabeth said, unable to hide her despondence.
Lady Helen shook her head. “It isn’t too late. A betrothal can be broken. It will be unpleasant, but trust me, it will be better than the alternative. But . . .” Her voice left off, as if she was struggling with what to say. “You better act quickly.”
“The wedding is in three weeks.”
Lady Helen didn’t say anything, but she bit her lip.
“What is it?”
Lady Helen shook her head. “I’ve said too much. Magnus will be furious that I’ve said anything at all. But I’m not breaking any confidences.”
She seemed to be trying to justify it to herself.
It took Elizabeth a moment to put it all together, but when she did, she knew why Lady Helen was being so reticent. “They are planning something, aren’t they?” She didn’t need an answer. Randolph, the Guard, Thom . . . Oh God, Thom. Her eyes widened and she reached for one of the tent poles to steady herself. She recalled her earlier fears of why the Guard might be recruiting him. “He can’t . . . he wouldn’t,” she murmured to herself, and then looked at Helen in horror. “He’s going to try to climb Castle Rock, isn’t he?”
Lady Helen appeared stunned that she’d guessed. She didn’t need to confirm it, Elizabeth already knew.
“It’s suicide. I won’t let him do it!”
He couldn’t die . . . Oh God. Tears choked her throat. She would die without him.
The gaze that met hers was both sympathetic and sad. It was clear the other woman thought it was too late for that. “Just make sure he knows how you feel.”
Elizabeth was already halfway through the flap of the tent.
“Wait,” Helen said, pulling her back. “You can’t just walk across camp and confront him in front of everyone.”
Elizabeth was shocked to realize that was exactly what she’d been about to do. Out of her mind with panic, she hadn’t been thinking of anything other than the fact that she had to stop him.
“He’ll be with the others,” the healer said, almost to herself. “We’ll need to think of a way to get him alone.” She tapped her mouth with her finger. “Give me a few minutes.”
Apparently Lady Helen was as good at subterfuge as Elizabeth. In less than that, she’d sent a page with a message that Thom was needed immediately in the “stable” area where the horses were kept. It was located on the far side of camp—due to the stench of the animals—and their conversation would be less likely to be observed.
The boy was instructed not to mention who had given him the message. If questioned he was to say that something was wrong with the horse Thom had been given to ride.
Knowing Thom’s affinity for horses, Elizabeth wasn’t sure it would be enough. But not long after she was in position—in the tent used to store the hay—she saw him walking toward her.
Heart in her throat, she stepped out to block his path. His expression was so dark with fury she almost lost her courage. But then she remembered why she had to see him. “You can’t do it, Thom. I won’t let you.”
He looked around as if he feared someone was watching them. But they were blocked from sight of the main camp by the tent.
“What the hell kind of game are you playing? You shouldn’t be here, and you sure as hell shouldn’t be sending me false messages.”
“I had to speak with you,” she said. “I know what you are planning, and you can’t do it—you’ll die.”
He gave her a hard look—the only way he seemed capable of looking at her now. She chilled from the coldness in his eyes.
“Whatever you think you know, it’s none of your concern.”
“I know you are going to try to climb Castle Rock tonight and attempt to take the castle. And I know that it’s considered an impossible climb, and you’ll die if you try. I can’t let you do that.”
His expression didn’t flicker—not once. Her desperate pleas bounced off him like pebbles on steel. “I believe you’ve made your faith in me perfectly clear. But if you have concerns, they should be for your betrothed.”
He started to walk away, but she reached for his arm to stop him. “Wait, Thom, please. You have to listen to me. I made a mistake.”
He went completely still. The look he gave her was so scathing it made her wish for the hard and impenetrable expression back. “You what?”
“I made a mistake. You were right. I never should have agreed to marry Randolph. I love you. I’m so sorry.”
He stared at her for a moment as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She felt like a maggot that had had the gall to crawl across his trencher.
“You are unbelievable. Take your apologies, and whatever else you have to say, somewhere else. I don’t want to hear them.”
“But—”
The icy composure snapped. He took her by the arm and forced her gaze to his. His voice teemed with animosity and raw fury. “I don’t want to fucking hear it, Elizabeth. Whatever you have to say, it’s too late. You made your choice, you will have to live w
ith it.”
He pushed her away with a sharp shove—as if she were an old poppet he’d grown tired of—and walked away. Had he turned around, he would have seen her crumple to the ground.
But he didn’t.
Oh God, what had she done? Whatever they’d once shared, whatever he’d once felt for her, it was gone. And nothing she would say was going to make him listen to her. He wouldn’t give her an opportunity.
Worse, she didn’t blame him.
All she could do was pray.
24
THE SPIKES HELD.
Thom dug his fingers into the crevice with his foot balanced on a spike and pulled himself up the last sheer section of rock. Once in position on a narrow plateau, he was able to find a place to secure the rope ladder that he’d slung over his shoulder to drop down to the men below. The sounds of the boards clattering against the rock made him wince, but when he glanced up at the wall, he didn’t see any movement in the shadows.
The diversionary attack that the king and the rest of the army were creating at the south gate was working. No one had heard the ping of a spike being forced into a crack in the rock earlier, and now the ladder was down without drawing attention.
Christ, he’d done it.
Thom took a moment to savor the satisfaction of knowing that he’d done something no man had done before. He’d climbed Castle Rock. Well, most of it. There was still another twenty feet or so to go, but the dangerous part of the climb was behind him.
That thought was barely formed before disaster struck—literally.
Randolph, who’d insisted on being the first man up the ladder, had just appeared out of the darkness below when a stone was tossed down from one of the soldiers patrolling the wall above. Had he heard something or seen a movement and was trying to figure out what it was, or was he just passing time? Whatever the cause, the rock slammed into Randolph’s blackened helm, and the force and shock of it made him lose his balance. He lost his footing and hold of the ladder and started to fall.
Thom didn’t think. If he had, he wasn’t sure he would have done what he did. It was pure instinct.
He leapt off the small ledge of grass toward the sheer rock face that he’d just scaled. It was a leap without a landing. Only one small piece of steel would keep him from plummeting into the darkness behind Randolph. With one hand Thom reached for the spike, and with the other the falling man.
“I made a mistake.”
Why the hell was he thinking of Elizabeth’s too-late plea now? And he certainly shouldn’t be thinking about it as he was careening through the air toward a collision with . . .
His body slammed into the rock face, and the edge of the steel from the head of the spike bit into his hand as he held on with everything he had, while the fingers of his other hand snagged just enough of the neck of Randolph’s thick leather cotun to stop him from falling to his death. Randolph was fortunate that he’d decided to put aside his shiny mail for the lighter armor—a hauberk might not have been as easy to catch.
Thom felt as if his body was being ripped apart. His muscles strained as he fought not to let go of either the spike or the man hanging by his fingertips.
He wasn’t even sure Randolph was alive until he muffled a curse.
“Are you all right?” Thom whispered tightly, still not sure whether there was a soldier up there listening for them and his teeth clenched against the strain of the other man’s weight.
“My head is ringing but I think so.”
“Can you reach for the ladder? It should be just to your right.” He didn’t know how long the spike would hold with the weight of two men attached.
“Aye.”
A few long moments later, Thom felt a surge of relief as the strain was released from his arm and shoulder. Christ, it felt as if it had been yanked out of the socket.
As he was still hanging by the spike with one hand, Thom told Randolph to give him a minute before he started to climb. Thom felt around in the darkness for the ladder with his feet, and after some maneuvering was able to release his hand from the spike and climb up. Randolph appeared beside him a few minutes later.
The wall above them was quiet, the soldier apparently having thrown his rock and moved on, never knowing how close his carelessly but fortuitously aimed rock had come to killing one of Bruce’s most important commanders.
Even in the moonless darkness, Thom could see the bloodlessness of the other man’s face. He gripped Thom’s hand hard. “Thank you. I owe you my life.”
Uncomfortable with gratitude from a man he could only resent, Thom shook him off. “It was nothing.”
But Randolph wasn’t having it. “It was incredible. I’d wager there aren’t a handful of men in Christendom who could have done what you just did. You must have hands and fingers of steel. I will see you rewarded for your deed tonight.”
“As this night is far from over, you might not be held to that.”
Randolph let out a bark of laughter and put his hand on his back. “You are right about that.”
Randolph’s near plunge off the cliff was the only thing to go wrong that night. The rest of the team made it up the ladder without mishap, and when the warriors dropped over the twelve-foot wall, it was to take the handful of unsuspecting soldiers left to patrol this section of the castle completely by surprise.
The cry of alarm was sounded, but with the noise from Bruce’s diversionary attack at the gate, not enough soldiers were able to respond to the real threat: the men who were now inside the castle.
The fighting was fierce and bloody, and more difficult than it might have been for Bruce’s men were they not worn from the strenuous, almost three-hundred-foot climb. A few of Randolph’s Highlanders from Moray fell alongside the English, and Randolph himself, in his second narrow escape of the night, barely avoided a well-aimed English spear.
But when they reached the south gate to open it for the rest of the army, the battle was won. The English fought with unusual ferocity, but once their commander fell with the initial swarm of men surging into the castle, they quickly surrendered.
The cheer that went up when Bruce’s men knew the castle was theirs was something Thom would never forget. The sense of euphoria, accomplishment, and joy was overwhelming.
One of the first men to congratulate him was the king himself. Bruce threw his arms around him and might have spun him around were Thom not so powerfully built. “Your feat of bravery this night will be rewarded! What say you, Sir Thomas?”
Thom stilled. “Sire?”
Bruce smiled and slapped him on the back. “You’ve earned your knighthood, lad. And”—he paused, with an eye to the man who’d just come up beside them—“I’d wager a place with this bunch.”
MacLeod frowned at the king. The formidable leader of the Highland Guard had been in the heat of the battle the entire time, but you would never know it from looking at him. He looked cool, unruffled, and untouched. “I thought asking was my job.”
Bruce shrugged unrepentantly. “Royal prerogative.”
MacLeod didn’t look like he agreed but turned to Thom. “Aye, the king is right. I’d seen enough after what you did at Dunbar, but what you did tonight has only solidified it. You have earned a place with us if you want it.” His mouth curved in what was almost a smile. “Assuming you make it through Perdition, that is.”
From how MacLeod said it, Thom surmised it was a big assumption. But he had no doubt he would do whatever it took. “I want it.”
What a prodigious understatement. He felt a sense of satisfaction that dwarfed even the feeling of climbing Castle Rock. In many ways, it was a higher climb. He’d done it. Actually, he’d done more than he set out to do. Not only would he be a knight, he’d earned his way into the most elite army in Christendom.
All those times someone told him it was impossible, all those knocks, cuts, and bruises, all the hours he’d spent pulling himself out of the dirt, all the digs about his birth, all the times he’d wanted to give up . . .
“I only wish that we’d thought of a climber before,” the king said with a shake of his head. “It seems so obvious. If we’d had you with us years ago, we would have had a much easier time taking back some of our castles.” He laughed. “We can talk about this tomorrow. But now we celebrate!”
The king clapped him on the back again and practically danced him around the yard. It was one of the biggest moments in his kingship, and Bruce was determined to enjoy every minute of it. All but one of Scotland’s great castles was now wrested from English hands. When King Edward marched his men to battle in June, they would not have the mighty Edinburgh Castle to protect them. Bruce’s chances for victory had just taken a big step forward.
Though it was the middle of the night, from the church tower a bell was rung. What remained of the castle larder was raided and brought to the Great Hall. Casks of ale and wine were carried up from the cellars—more than they expected—and despite the abstinence of the season, the drinking went on well into the wee hours of the morning.
By the time Thom crawled into bed, he wasn’t just a soon-to-be knight and member of the Highland Guard, he was also a baron of lands in Roxburghshire. The magnitude of what he’d achieved stunned him.
But he had only a few hours of sleep before he was awakened again.
The fact that it was his new Chief didn’t stop him from cursing and rolling over, pulling the wool blanket over his head.