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Chapter 24

The next day…

“So, how do we do this?” Rogene asked the band of rescuers who had come with her.

They sat about a hundred or so feet away from Delny Castle, hidden in the bushes and undergrowth. It stood on a hill, and about twenty feet down the slope was Cromarty Firth with its unruly water gray in the light of a cloudy evening. On the other side of the Firth were two long greenish-brown lines of land with a neck of water between them that connected directly to the North Sea. Strong wind, wailing in Rogene’s ears, brought the salty scent of fish and algae. At the base of the slope below them, by the gravel beach, was a small jetty where three birlinns and a couple of fishing boats were docked. Two guards stood watch over the area.

Crouching to her left was Catrìona, the only one in the group wearing a dress, but armored with a dagger on her hip. Would-be nun or not, Catrìona looked like a woman not to mess with.

To Rogene’s right was Raghnall. When Catrìona had brought her to meet him in Dornie, she would have never thought this man was a Mackenzie brother. With tears all around his leine croich, and holes and seams on his cloak, he didn’t look like gentry—more like a rogue from a band of highwaymen. Although he seemed charming and at ease, there was something very dangerous about him.

On the way to Delny, he would sing and play his lute from time to time, and in his voice, she heard anger and sadness that he didn’t show when he talked. Most of the things he said to her were questions masked as jokes. And from the way his penetrating dark eyes studied her, she knew he was assessing her, trying to dig under her skin.

They also had two dozen men with them: a dozen whom Laomann had commanded to go and a dozen volunteers. It seemed every Mackenzie warrior wanted to go and help Angus once they heard what had happened. Many of them blamed themselves that they noticed what was happening and failed to stop Euphemia’s men. Laomann had been generous enough to allow the best warriors to go.

And now, after a week of hard riding where she’d spent most of the time clinging to Catrìona’s back on her horse, they were finally looking at Delny Castle, seat of clan Ross. One of their men had casually asked some villagers if their lady had come with a prisoner, and they had said there was no prisoner, but one of the carts had held a man who was sleeping under many furs and blankets.

The men looked at her, frowning.

“Obviously, we can’t take it by siege,” she said. “We need to think of something else.”

“Aye,” Raghnall said, squinting as he studied the castle with an estimating look on his face. “We need to get in without anyone noticing. With Bruce, ’tis what we often did, when we took castles and burned them. Sometimes, we hid in the carts of tradespeople. Other times, we threw ladders with special hooks to climb the walls. We hid to ambush trading vessels that came to sea gates… And now…”

He rubbed his chin, which was covered with a short black beard.

“We could find someone who would allow us to get into their wagon…” Catrìona said.

“Or steal a wagon,” Rogene said.

She shivered, looking at the impenetrable castle walls. Stone walls two stories high surrounded the big rectangular keep and a courtyard that looked like a perverse fairy-tale castle.

Catrìona frowned. Although she didn’t say anything, Rogene thought she must disapprove of the idea of stealing.

“Nae likely in the bright daylight,” Raghnall said as he peered at the village, which was to the left of the castle.

They exchanged worried glances. The only one who’d been in the castle before was Catrìona, and she didn’t know of any weaknesses or any secret ways to get inside. This didn’t look good, and they were losing precious time. Who knew what condition Angus was in? The orange sun came out from behind a cloud and reflected off the water in a fiery frenzy of light. And right in the middle of it was a dark spot—a big birlinn, its sail shielding a fair bit of the blinding surface.

“Look, guys!” Rogene pointed.

They all glanced in the direction she was pointing.

“A ship…” Raghnall muttered.

Catrìona shifted closer to Rogene and whispered, “Who did ye call just now?”

Rogene felt heat rushing to her cheeks. “Um…I said, guys… I meant all of you.”

“Oh…” Catrìona said, still studying Rogene with a puzzled expression. “I dinna ken that word.”

Rogene muttered an oath. Even after a couple of weeks here, she still couldn’t make herself forget the modern expressions. She needed to be more careful.

She shifted her attention to the ship. “What kind of ship do you think it is?” she asked. “A trader?”

Raghnall shielded his eyes with his hand, studying the vessel. “’Tis hard to say. But it looks like ’tis loaded, based on how low it sits in the water. I say, aye. It must be a trader or mayhap a delivery. Food, weapons…who kens?”

That sounded oddly familiar to Rogene. She glanced down at the small harbor with the jetty, then back up at the castle. The shore broke sharply there, creating a cliff of sorts that shielded the small gravel beach from view of the castle. Yes, that could work!

She came to sit by Raghnall. “Guys!” she said, and bit her tongue as she cursed herself inwardly.