We knelt beneath the trees on a carpet of bluebells. In the distance, frogs grunted and trilled. Thick clouds scurried across the heavens, wiping out the moon and stars like drawing a curtain. The total darkness might hurt us as much as it helped.
We were gathered in a small vale in Lanark. Douglas had led us into the southern part of Lanark to attack Douglas Castle. The numbers in his following had grown. We had attacked and destroyed enough pack and scouting parties that they no longer moved without very heavy guards, but this would be the first time we had attacked a castle.
My father had proven that no enemies would occupy his stronghold of Douglas Castle as long as he had lived. He razed it time after time, only to have the English rebuild it. Now the question was whether we could make it as dangerous to hold as he had.
Colban clicked his tongue. “Reaching yon castle without being spotted—”
“Does everyone have his scaling ladder?” my cousin snapped. “Make sure you dinnae let them clatter.”
“The trees grow within nearly a bowshot of the walls.” Gil and I had scouted to the edge of the woods and reported everything we had seen to my cousin. I suspected he was talking from nerves. “We shan’t have far to go when we leave their protection, and the ropes make no noise. It is easy enough to hold the grappling hooks still.”
“Stupid nae to have cut the trees back,” Sir Angus said. “You would think Lord Clifford would ken better.”
“Aye, and deepened the moat.”
“What does it matter?” Douglas swung from the saddle and tossed his reins to one of the young lads who served as horse boys. “They didnae, and we take advantage.”
I slid from the saddle, and another lad took the reins, tying it to one of the several horse lines strung for the purpose between trees.
Men dismounted, muttering whether they had all they needed. Gil and Symon both had their bows on their backs and arrow sacks on their belts. Rope ladders were straightened and looped over men’s shoulders, and long pikes were handed out. Using a pike to lift the hook of a ladder was helped by the fact that Scottish pikes were unusually long for use in a schiltron. Even so, it would not be that easy to hook them. The English had learned to increase the height of their curtain walls. We all had dark cloaks.
“Try to take your side as quietly as you can. If we can take the keep—” He broke off when I joined them.
I said, “Even if we keep anyone from giving the warning, there will be noise.”
“Your job is to kill the ones we encounter as fast as you can. And guard my back.”
At least he trusted me to do that, if nothing else. A lad brought a couple of buckets of ash mixed with grease to smear on our faces. When that was done, I took a pike from a pile near the horse line.
Douglas slapped Will on the shoulder. “We will hold in the trees until you signal that you are in place.”
The plan was to hit both sides of the gate at the same time, although spreading our men out might increase the chances of being seen as we sneaked toward the walls. We needed at least a few men on them before the fight started. And there was no way to know if the defenders inside the keep would stay there as it was impregnable without a siege machine or if they would come to the aid of the men on the walls. If they came out, there was a chance we could take the keep itself.
Will led his fifty men through the trees toward a spot I had chosen the day before.
“Keep your eyes down on the ground,” Colban said. “That way, the guards cannae see them gleam in the dark.”
I snorted. “They would have to come out of the guard tower.” Watching for several days had shown that only one guard walked the parapet at night. The commander must be both lazy and overconfident. I tested the point of my dirk on my thumb and sucked away a drop of blood. It would be a fighting retiral if we were spotted before we gained the walls. We would lose men. I clicked my tongue on my teeth. It would be what it would be. But my mouth was dry as old leather, and I took nothing for granted since Neville’s Cross. I grabbed Colban by the arm and said close to his ear. “Stay back, and if it goes bad, help as many as you can escape. Dinnae try to come to our aid if we’re captured.”
Colban tilted his head toward Douglas. “He said he would die before he surrendered.”
“Aye.” I sniffed. “Easy to say when you dinnae have a sword at your throat.” My cousin was a braw man in a fight and had become an effective leader except for his arrogance… I sniffed again. There was nothing to do but put up with it. Then, I leaned close to Colban’s ear and said, “Hold back and come last up the ladder. If we need to retreat fast, I want you there to handle it.”
“It willnae happen, but I will hang back.”
An owl hooted twice. There was a pause, and it hooted again.
“Time to go,” Douglas called and eased his way through the trees, bluebells rustling under his feet. I pulled my hood over my head and walked a few feet behind him. Behind his men hurried after him, icy bracken crunching underfoot. Leaves rustled overhead. Gil fell in behind me carrying a pike, and the rest of the men followed, silent in their own thoughts. I wondered whether this was the last night I would see, if this would be the end. That was a thought I had before every battle, so I licked my dry lips and concentrated on not stumbling over a tree root in the dark.
I felt my way, reaching ahead for the tree trucks. Then my reaching hand only found air. A gleam of light flickered in a high tower that was all that showed where the walls rose. The rest was just black.
“Spread out and keep down,” Douglas whispered.
I crouched and touched Douglas’s back to be sure he was right before me. We began to creep up the open slope that released a mossy scent from the heather under our feet. The head of the pike smacked my forehead, and I bit back a curse.
There was a sound of scraping and sliding in front of me. My feet slipped out from under me as the ground dipped. I grabbed a bush, a gorse, from the bite of thorns in my palm. Will gave two owl hoots—a warning that we were close to the wall. We shuffled the rest of the way down the slope of the moat and up the other side. Groping, my hand reached the cool rough stone.
From high on the wall, someone laughed. My heart tried to hammer its way out of my chest.
“God damn, that was strong ale.” Sharp-smelling liquid splattered on the ground and onto my feet. “Shame to piss it away.”
“I done went and found more,” a gravelly voice said. The door hinge creaked, and someone laughed. “Make sure the serjeant does not find out.” The door slammed shut.
My legs wobbled. I froze in place. The cold sweat of fear dribbled from my underarms down my sides. Silence stretched on, but Douglas finally gave a short whistle like a nightingale. After a moment, a single hoot replied, signaling that Will and his men were also in place.
Angus shoved the hole in one of the grappling hooks onto the tip of my pike. Alan thrust his into the other hook. His eyes gleamed as we exchanged a glance.
With the twelve-foot pike touching the wall, I began to raise it. Colban had said that made catching the hook on the edge of the embrasure easier. I lifted it as high as I could reach. It tilted in my hands when it reached the top. I jiggled the shaft and felt the grappling hook catch.
Alan slapped my shoulder to signal his had caught too. I jerked to be sure the ladder was firmly caught and laid down my pike.
On the other side, Gil made a clicking sound to show his ladder was in place. Then a third and fourth click.
Douglas shoved me aside to go first, as was his right. Once he had time to reach halfway up, I put my foot on the first wood step and followed. The tightness in my chest made me breathe hard and fast. God only knew what we would find up there.
Hinges squealed, and a door crashed open. “What was that?” the gravelly voice asked.
Faint light streamed through a door. I lunged into the crenel, shoved hard, and landed flat on the wooden walk with an oof. A bolt loosed at close range gave its distinctive strum. It slashed my cheek. As I rose to my knees, I struck back with a rising slash that caught the crossbowman in the crotch. He shrieked. It sliced deep and hung. I rocked back to pull it free. Gil kicked the crossbowman in the chest, and he flew backward off the parapet. I rolled to my feet.
Douglas had his sword’s hilt locked with another guard. Another ran at his back, blade raised. My breath hitched, and I ran toward the attacker. Douglas would not die on my watch. Nor be captured. I would not fail him as I had Sir William and the King.
Reversing my sword to hold it by the blade, I smashed the hilt down on the attacker’s head. His hem smashed like an eggshell. Down he went just as Douglas brought his in a side slash and cut his opponent’s throat from left to right. Angus was pulling his blade free from the guard he had just killed. I rushed into the guardroom, looking for another opponent. It was empty except for a table and some overturned stools. A small fire flickered in an iron brazier. Panting for breath, I wiped blood and sweat from my forehead and rejoined the others outside.
A shout came on the other side of the gate and the sound of steel on steel. We would have to count on Will and his men doing their job.
Douglas said, “With me!” He dashed along the walk to the narrow stairs, took them two at a time, and ran to the inner wall. Colban and Gil jerked a couple of the ladders free. We would need the ladder again but would have to manage without pikes this time, and bringing them all would take too much time. A voice shouting came from the keep, muffled by the walls. It had to be someone roused by the noise. We had to hurry. As we had expected, the wall around the inner bailey was lower than the outer curtain wall.
At least half a head taller than my companions, I squinted up, trying to make it out in the dark. “I can do it.” Colban thrust two grappling hooks at the end of the ropes into my hand. On my toes, I strained overhead. I just reached the crenel but could not quite make the hooks catch. Symon dropped onto his hands and knees. I stepped onto his back, stretched overhead again, and felt the hooks catch onto the edge. Douglas tested it with a foot and began to climb as Gil shoved another ladder at me. Angus was already following Douglas as I set the second ladder. Two would have to do, but we should soon have the inner gate open once in. I jumped to grab the highest rung and scrambled up. A quick look showed no guards, so I dropped to the ground. Wood steps rose to the door of the keep, and a torch flickered on each side.
The door of the keep banged and spilled a path of light across the bailey. A man stepped out and stopped at the top of the stairs. “What is to do?” he shouted.
Douglas took a step towards him, sword lowered to his side as two more men with armor half donned and swords in their hands stepped behind the first Englishman. “Nous ne sommes que des visiteurs.” He would buy us some time with his accent, which was more French than Scottish. “Je m’appelle Guillaume.”
I looked at Corbin and bent my head towards the opposite side of the bailey. He turned and walked towards it, followed by Alan, our shadows flickering the light of torches beside the doorway.
“Comment êtes-vous entré?” the Englishman demanded in clumsy French.
After waving Angus to go to the left, I strolled to the right. None of the light from the door reached so far, and the men still kept their eyes fixed on Douglas as he took another step and then another.
Douglas gave a scornful sniff. “Les gardes m’ont—”
I was only two strides from the steps up to the door. The bar on the gate thudded, and the hinges screeched as the gate was shoved open. Our men flooded through shouting, “A Douglas! A Douglas!”
“God blood!” the Englishmen bellowed. “Scots!” He thundered down the steps, sword raised high over his head in a high guard. Douglas cocked his hips, sword over his shoulder in the roof guard, ready to counter, so I went for the second man, in full mail but only a coif and no helm. His face was broad, and a red scar ran from the corner of his eye down his cheek.
He turned his head, and our eyes met. What I saw there was fury. It was something I tried not to feel. Anger. Despair. Determination. Those worked for you. Fury only clouded your mind, but it did not slow him down. He came at me, his sword in low tail guard trailing behind his leg. The next moment, he stepped and slashed from left to right. I closed, met the slash, and locked our blades. He jerked his blade free and slashed. I dodged and cut for his hands.
The bull’s-pizzle was good. He caught my sword on his hilt. Sure he would go for a pommel strike, I kicked his knee. He lurched but recovered as I took a step back. He came at me hard, swinging from over his shoulder. I caught the blade. Rotating my hands, I struck the side of his head. It grated on the chain of his coif. He disengaged, shaking his head.
Time to take advantage of his being stunned. I went at him, cutting from the right. He parried, but I moved to the side, letting his blade slip past my belly. I shoved my hip behind his and slammed my forearm into his throat. He flipped backward flat on the ground.
I raised my blade and smashed it down into his eye socket. Blood and gore splashed. He jerked once and lay still.
Angus had finished his man, but across the bailey, a crowd of at least forty formed to charge. Scores must have run past me while I fought. Many of the English had taken time to don only part of their armor. We were about even in numbers but had them surrounded. Screaming, we ran at them.
I ducked a sword strike and hacked the man’s belly open with a rising blow. Douglas was on the steps, bellowing, “Come for me!” as he slashed his way into the enemy. “I am the Douglas!” Angus and I fought to his left.
Torches flickered, throwing crazed, dancing shadows and glimmers from sword blades and spear points. An Englishman tried to kill Gil with his ax, mouth wide, as he shouted curses. Colban thrust his sword down the man’s throat so that his curses ended with a gush of blood.
My pulse beat in my ears like a drum. Another Englishman thrust a spear at me. I knocked it downward and backslashed at the grimacing face. The man twisted aside. I stepped over a body to close in, slashed as hard as I could up into his gut, and ripped upward. His sword jammed. I jerked to free it, cursing when it would not come free. Will took the man’s head off with a wild sideswipe.
Our men screamed, “A Douglas!” and cheered as they killed. The English, staring death in the face, broke. Some ran through the gate, and some for the parapet to leap from the wall. The rest were soon dead or bleeding out on the ground. I leaned over, hands on my knees, to catch my breath but only sucked the reek of blood, shit, and sweat into my lungs.
Then I looked for Douglas. He was running up the steps to the door of the keep and into the great hall. I straightened and ran to catch up.
I plunged around the door screen right behind him. Near a large stone hearth where a dying fire flickered, a priest, gripping a cross, stood in front of half a score of servants, their hands raised or arms over their heads, whimpering.
“Mercy!” The priest’s voice rose to a squeak. “Mercy!”
I scowled, tempted to frighten the English cleric into pissing himself but stepped back when Douglas stomped across the hall. “I don’t kill priests.” He crossed his arms. “Get out. Any of you of Douglasdale, hie you home and dinnae let me see you serving the Sassenach again. You English, run you home. And stay there!”
“Aye, my lord,” one of the wide-eyed men mumbled before he dashed for the door, all the rest scrambling after him. As he ran, the priest’s cassock flapped around his fat, stubby legs.
The room smelled of moldy rushes and male sweat. Trestles and boards leaned against the long walls where the trestle tables had been cleared so low-ranking guards and servants could use the floor for a bed. A single table was still on the dais with wine cups, half a loaf of bread, and a partially eaten round of white cheese spread out on it. It looked like a few of the knights had still been enjoying themselves when we attacked.
Douglas strode across the long hall and sprang onto the dais. He sniffed the half-full flagon, picked up a pewter goblet, tossed the dregs onto the floor, and filled it. After taking a long deep drink, he said, “Symon, you see the tables are set up. After tonight the men deserve to have their bellies full. Archie, see if there’s any food in the kitchen fit to eat.” He hacked off a big piece of cheese, threw himself down in the lord’s chair, and sprawled out his legs.
I ground my teeth at being spoken to like a servant, and my face felt hot. But I bowed to him. Without glancing his way, I filled myself a goblet of wine and took it to drink as I strolled out the door to the kitchen cot that was undoubtedly across the bailey.
There was a massive pottage keeping warm over a banked fire. When I sniffed, the steam was pleasantly seasoned with barley, cabbage, carrots, beans, onion, thyme, and pepper. No meat since it was still Lenten fast time. Hell mend Douglas if he thought I would serve at the table, though. Was his ire with me that he was not yet knighted himself? I shrugged off the thought and shouted for a couple of men to carry the handle across a piece of wood, so they did not burn themselves. There was a cask of wine, some ale, and loaves of yesterday’s meslin bread, only a little stale. Soon it was all hauled in.
The trestle tables were set up, but I took a place at the end of the dais. It felt good to stretch out, and my second and third goblets of wine were as sweet as the first. I drained it and let it drop from my hand, my head drooping onto the table. And on a bloody field after a great battle, King David made me a baron, granting me lands I could pass down to my son and he to his.
A bang made me jump. I jerked awake and rubbed the back of my neck. It took a moment to realize that the pewter light of dawn was shining through the high slit windows. There was another bang from above. Of course, the castle was being stripped of anything we could use. It was a noisy business. I stretched my back, every muscle aching from sleeping in my armor, and slumped over the table.
I need to find Douglas. No doubt he would have commands for the day. I knew that I should not complain or resent it. At least he knew what he was doing, even if he gave me no respect. Strands of my hair fell in my face, so I ran my hands through it to push it back. I would give a good deal for a pitcher of warm water and a bathing cloth, but neither was likely today. My three days of growth of my black stubble probably made me look even darker of mien than usual, not that there was a mirror to see or to shave. There was a bowl of water next to the door, so I splashed it on my face and hands. That helped. I wiped the water from my face with my hands and went into the bailey.
One of the men trudged down the stairs carrying a wood kist on his shoulder. I circled around him and pounded down the wooden steps. Had the castle defenders been thinking clearly, they might have fired those instead of fighting. But the point of a coup de main was to give defenders no chance to use their defenses. As my father and Sir William had proven before us, it often worked.
In the bailey, everything was noise and movement. Men were shouting orders, questions, and arguing over their share of the loot, horses from the castle stables were being led out and harnessed, piles of loot were being bagged, and sumpters loaded. Clouds had blown in from the south, and a drizzle had begun to fall.
Douglas was in the middle of it all, talking intently with a stranger wearing the yellow Stewart livery with a white checky band. “About time you were out,” he told me. “I must go to Edinburgh. There is talk of selecting negotiators for the king’s ransom. I need to be there.”
“I shall be ready to go on your command.” I looked around at the clamor and commotion. “But this must be finished first.”
“You didnae think you would be needed for negotiations, did you?” His eyes gleamed with glee. “Will is supervising separating the loot to be shared.” He threw his glance across the hubbub. “You earned the armor and weapons of the men you killed. That is your share. The men’s share will be set aside, but I want a share of the arms taken to that farm of Gil’s to be hidden in case we should ever need them. You and he see to it. And I want to know if the English are making any threats from Roxburgh. Bring word if there is aught I should ken.”
As I made obeisance, I held my breath to keep from grinning. It would not do for Douglas to know how much that plan pleased me. If he knew, he would no doubt find some reason to change his mind. “I will claim my share and see that Gill claims his. As soon Will has the sumpters loaded, we will be off.”