Page 135 of Come the Morning

He looked up suddenly, instantly alarmed.

She smelled the fire.

The new wall had been drenched with oil, and set ablaze.

Ewan MacKinny put his arms around her, and they started to run. Outside the walls, Eleanora screamed as netting fell around them.

She struggled. She and Ewan were caught together, trapped and rolling, in the net. Captured and snared like flies in a spider’s web, they went still.

“Courage, all will be well,” Ewan whispered to her softly.

All could not be well. But, strangely, in his words, she did find courage.

Ewan struggled to his feet as the net was lifted. He came out with his fists swinging, striking two men. But another man stepped forward hastily, using the hilt of his sword to strike Ewan on the back of his head. Ewan fell. She cried out in alarm, ready to bend down to him.

But a man reached for her. He was helmeted and dressed in mail. She could see nothing but the curiously cloudlike shade of his nearly colorless blue-toned eyes through his visor.

“Ah, well, hello there, my beauty. You must be the legendary Eleanora. How I would like to get to know you! But alas, we’ve so little time …”

Mellyora knew how to defend the castle.

Reaching the fortress, she’d dressed swiftly in a linen shift and warm, woolen knit gown and immediately gone to the parapets to take charge.

The gates were closed, to be opened only at the command of Jon of Wick, and she would give that command to him herself if necessary. Jon and Mallory were with her, at her side, ready to advise her and give counsel. She wished that Ewan were with her, for he had worked most closely with her father.

She wished that Waryk was here.

And she was anxious that Ewan hadn’t reached them yet, and when she saw that the palisade was afire, she knew that Hallsteader had come.

Archers were prepared; they lined the parapets. The fortress was not at full strength since Waryk and so many men had ridden out, but the power of Blue Isle lay in the rock on which it had been built. She rose out of the sea with majesty and strength. Her walls were thick, formed of rock and stone that could not burn, that could not be rammed. In times of danger, a heavy portcullis was closed behind the main gate. Boiling oil could be poured onto any attackers who breached the first gates. Cauldrons bubbled now with oil to be cast down upon any attackers who neared the walls.

Weakness could only come from within …

She knew that well, and she didn’t mean to be weak, but when she saw the fire burning across the water, she was sick at heart. Ewan hadn’t reached the fortress; he was in danger. Or dead. And the others—Igraina, their family, their friends, the very old, the very young, the little babes …

Waryk will come, Waryk will come, oh, God, he will come soon …

She thought it over and over again, and it gave her strength. But she was afraid. So afraid. She had come to know Hallsteader. He’d been willing to risk any number of his own men. Had he slain those who hadn’t managed to flee into the woods on the mainland?

The first assault came immediately after the fire. The water had been growing deeper, but Hallsteader’s men came across it on horseback and afoot. He had been joined at the head of the troops by a second man. His banner was red, a dragon graced his surcoat. Renfrew, she thought. His armor was rich; his horse was huge and powerful and dressed in trappings every bit as costly. Behind him, his standard-bearers carried not just his colors, but those of Stephen of Blois, King of England, as well.

Hallsteader and Renfrew directed the assault, but were not part of it. They knew the death that would come, and still, they sent their first wave of men to test the walls, men with a ram to charge the gates, others with grappling hooks to attempt to scale the walls.

The archers brought them down with such speed that the ram was abandoned. The warriors regrouped, out of range of the castle’s archers.

“What now?” she murmured to Jon of Wick.

He shook his head. “They can’t come close; they know it. They’ll have to give up and go away.”

“They won’t give up,” Mallory advised with assurance. He gazed at her, his lined face stern. “They won’t give up, ever. They want the fortress, or you.”

“They cannot have Mellyora!” Jon said fiercely.

“Mellyora! Mellyora MacAdin, surrender the castle and yourself, and your people will receive mercy!” Ulric Hallsteadersuddenly called across the green slope leading to the castle walls. “Surrender now, and all will be well. No one will die.”

She walked to the wall. “Retreat, sir, and save your own life before the laird returns and slays you all!” she called back.

She couldn’t see his face because of his helmet. She’d never really seen his face. He was still wearing Daro’s helmet.