Jerry and Konnor sat at the table waiting for her to put mashed potatoes on their plates. Jerry glared at him with bloodshot eyes, whirling the glass with whiskey in his hand.
“How was school, Konnor?” he asked.
“Protect her. You're the only one she’s got.” His father’s words rang in his head. Guilt chewed at his stomach. Konnor hadn’t done anything to protect his mom the night before, but he could do something today. Jerry should know he couldn’t just beat her.
“It was fine,” he said, his gut trembling with both fear and anger. “Mom, are you okay?”
She glanced at him with wide eyes and flashed a forced smile, keeping her head low so that her blond hair would fall on the side of her face. “Of course. Never better. Peas?”
“Mom, I heard. Last night, I heard everything.”
His mom’s eyes widened in horror. She dropped the plate and it fell on the floor with a loud bang, peas rolling all over the floor. Jerry’s square-jawed face reddened, his moustache shaking. He stood and grabbed her by the upper arm and drew his arm back to hit her.
“Stop it!” Konnor cried, and darted forward to hang on Jerry’s arm. Jerry pushed him back. Konnor staggered and fell, hitting his head on the edge of the chair. He whimpered, his head exploding with pain.
“Jerry!” his mom exclaimed and pushed Jerry away from him.
“Don’t you dare push me, you bitch,” Jerry cried and slapped her. He grabbed her by her hair and brought her face to his. “You try that one more time…” He was livid and drunk and spitting the consonants.
“Don’t touch him,” Mom growled.
Slap. Slap. Konnor watched with horror as her head shot to the left and to the right when Jerry’s hand came to her face.
“I will touch him in any way I see fit if he disrespects me like that in my own house.” As if to demonstrate, he grabbed the collar of Konnor’s T-shirt and lifted him up. Konnor stared into his bloodshot, drunken gray eyes and began wriggling.
Bam. Came a blow, right in his cheekbone. Bam. In his stomach, blinding him with pain.
“Stop it!” Mom screamed and turned Jerry to her. He let Konnor go, and he crumpled on the floor. She stood between Konnor and Jerry. “Go to your room, Konnor,” she whispered. “Lock your door.”
And, like a coward, he did. He didn’t stay. He didn’t distract Jerry. He ran and he let her take his beating.
But now that he was a grown man, he’d take every hit for her. He’d protect her and take care of her until the day he died.
A knock on the door pulled him out of his memories. Morning light spilled through the slit window into his room. He sat up in the bed, and his ankle ached in response. Marjorie appeared at the door, and she slid her gaze down his naked torso before she pointedly returned to his eyes. A slight blush covered her cheeks. He’d be flattered if he weren’t worried about making her feel uncomfortable.
“Konnor, I want to hold a council about the castle’s defenses with my men. Will ye join us?”
Join her? Did she trust him so much already? He had no experience with castles and swords and bows. But if she needed his help, he’d give it to her any way he could.
“Yes, of course.” He lowered his legs to the floor, picked up one shoe, and put it on his good leg.
“I’ll wait on the landing while ye dress,” Marjorie said.
“Sure.”
While Konnor was putting on his clothes, he realized his leg felt much better, and he didn’t need a crutch anymore. When he was dressed, he went in search of Marjorie. He found her looking fresh and beautiful, with her dark hair in a single braid that fell over her shoulder. She wore pants and a short tunic, dressed like a man again, but the belt hugged her thin waist. There was a sheath on her back, and the strap of it went between her breasts. Konnor pointedly looked at her face and didn’t allow his gaze to move an inch down, but even her full lips were torture.
They made their way down the tower and across and into the next one. After climbing two flights of stairs, they walked through the entrance that connected the tower and the fortification wall. Malcolm, Tamhas, and two more armed men stood there waiting.
Tamhas narrowed his eyes as he studied Konnor.
“We need to decide what to do with the wall.” Marjorie pointed down at their feet.
The wall was about ten feet thick, with merlons and crenels that had slits for bowmen at regular intervals. Where they stood, the merlons were gone, and the floor and outer part of the wall had crumbled. It would be dangerous for the defenders to stand here. The wall was lower and would be easy to climb. Konnor looked down and noticed another problem. The rubble and rocks that had fallen hadn’t been cleared away. They formed a nice hill to make it even easier for the attackers to get into the castle.
“The MacDougalls came through here.” Marjorie pointed at the area.
“Aye,” Malcolm added. “The bastarts climbed unnoticed in the darkness, killed three watchmen, and sneaked in. ’Twas that easy.”
“When do you think they’ll attack?” Konnor said.
He sank to his knees, wincing from the pain in his ankle, and touched the cold, rough stone. The crumbled part had disintegrated to an almost sand-like substance. Konnor brushed it with his hand, and the small shingles were sharp against his skin.
“I dinna ken,” Marjorie said. “The spies dinna mention when.”
“I think soon,” Malcolm said. “They are probably waiting for them and Colin. Once they realize their men are nae coming back with the boy, the chief will ken we have them and that we ken of the attack. He might come sooner rather than later.”
Konnor nodded in agreement. They needed to repair the damage to the castle wall and fast. But if they only had days, there was no way they could get enough rocks and mortar in time for it to dry.
“We need to find a mason and order the repair, aye?” Marjorie said.
Malcolm nodded in agreement, but Tamhas frowned.
“You likely have days, Marjorie,” Konnor said. “I doubt it can be done so quickly.”
“Well, no, but surely the mason will at least know how to repair it to some extent within days.”
That would not work. Konnor’s back was covered in cold sweat at the thought of what could happen to Marjorie, Colin, and her people if the MacDougalls got in. Adrenalin shot through his blood.
“No, you’re wrong.” Konnor said. Marjorie jerked her head back as though he’d slapped her. “What you need to do is take matters in your own hands.”
He fingered the dry mortar in a slit between the rocks, then stood up.
“What you need to do is make it difficult for the enemy to enter here. Rather than hiring a mason to start fixing the wall, ask a blacksmith to make you iron spikes to make it hard for them to climb over the wall, like big arrow tips. Or you can have men make them out of wood, but have the blacksmith attach them securely to the wall.” Konnor imagined bird spikes that were used as anti-intruder protection on fences and walls. “Make it so the enemy can’t climb here.”
Marjorie looked at him wide eyed. “But ’tis nae but a quick fix.”
“You don’t have time for a proper repair. You also need to remove the rubble down below.” Konnor pointed down the wall, and everyone looked at what he was talking about. “They’ll have less of a ramp and more of a climb.”