Brenda Joyce Read Online Free PDF

children—they had sorted through the rocks and stones, assembling the various piles by size and weight, while preparing the pits for the fires they might later light, some still coming and going with armloads of wood. Although the drawbridge was closed, a small side entrance in the north tower was being used now. Margaret had quickly realized that they could not run out of wood for the fires, or oil, or stones. Not if they were besieged.
    Her archers remained at the walls. Perhaps fortunately—for so she was thinking—they only had two walls to defend. Because the keep was on the cliff overlooking the loch, two of its sides were insurmountable. They had three dozen archers on the vulnerable walls, and quivers of spare arrows were lined up behind each man. Another dozen warriors stood beside the archers, armed with swords, maces and daggers.
    Margaret did not have to ask about the extra dozen soldiers. Although she had never been in a siege, she took one look at them and knew what their use might be: if the walls were successfully scaled, the archers would become useless. The battle for control of the castle would turn into hand-to-hand combat.
    Margaret stared down at the glen, where the huge MacDonald army was gathered. It had not moved for the past three hours.
    How she prayed that meant that William and Sir Ranald were picking off each and every enemy soldier as the Wolf attempted to traverse the ravine.
    She felt a movement behind her and half turned. Malcolm smiled at her. If he was afraid, he had given no sign, but then, everyone seemed terribly brave. Margaret was so impressed with the courage of her people. She hoped that no one knew how her heart thudded, how light-headed she felt—how frightened and nervous she was.
    “Has there been any word?” she whispered. Malcolm had sent two scouts out earlier to report on the ambush.
    “Our watch has not returned,” he said. “But it is a good sign that the Wolf cannot move his men forward.”
    She shivered. Hadn’t she also heard that the Wolf had a terrible temper? He would be furious at being thwarted. Unless, of course, he was dead.
    How she prayed that was the case!
    “Ye should go down, my lady,” Malcolm said kindly. “I ken ye wish to hearten the men and women, but it is growing very cold out, and if ye sicken, ye will dishearten them all.”
    Margaret remarked Sir Neil, on the other side of the ramparts, as he and an elderly Highlander attempted to fix one of the catapults. Peg was with them, apparently telling them how she thought it best repaired. Had the situation not been so dire, Margaret would have been amused, for Peg was so nosy all of the time. And she was also a bit of a tease, and Sir Neil was terribly handsome with his fair complexion and dark hair.
    He had been indefatigable. She did not know him well, but she was impressed with his tireless efforts on behalf of the keep—on her behalf.
    Of course, if they were besieged and defeated, they would all die.
    She looked at Malcolm. “Is it true?” She kept her voice low, so no one would overhear her. “That the Wolf slays all of his enemies—that he never allows the enemy to live?”
    Malcolm hesitated, and she had her answer. “I dinna ken,” he said, with a shrug meant to convey ignorance.
    How could such barbarism be possible? “Have you met him?”
    Malcolm started. “Aye, my lady, I have.”
    “Is he a monster, as claimed?”
    Malcolm’s eyes widened. “Are such claims made? He is a powerful soldier—a man of great courage—and great ambition. ’Tis a shame he is our enemy and not our friend.”
    “I hope he is dead.”
    “He will not die in an ambush, he is far too clever,” Malcolm said flatly. And then his gaze veered past her and he paled.
    Margaret whirled to stare down into the glen and she choked. The army was moving, a slow rippling forward, like a huge wave made of men. “What does that mean?” she cried.
    Before Malcolm could answer, Sir Neil came running across