Alastor was climbing out of bed, but he was in complete disbelief. “Christ,” he muttered. “They’ve come for Canmore.”
“How would they know he was here?” Atlas asked. “They have no way of knowing he was brought here. For all they know, he’s with de Velt or he’s dead. There is no connection to us.”
That was true, but Alastor was still half-asleep and his mind was mulling over the worst-case scenarios. He went to the basin of water near the hearth and splashed it on his face before going in search of his breeches.
“Possibly,” he muttered. “Where is Ares?”
“Keeping them company,” Atlas said. “They are outside the gatehouse. He has not admitted them.”
“Good,” Alastor said with relief. “And they’ve only asked to speak with me? Nothing else?”
Atlas shook his head as he watched his father pull on his breeches. Anteaus found his father’s boots and handed them over.
“Nothing else,” he said. “But the man leading the army identified himself as Alexander MacDuff, Earl of Fife and the Justiciar of Scotia.”
Alastor’s head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. “He said that?”
“He did.”
That seemed to muddle Alastor as Anteaus began to help the man dress by putting his arms in the sleeves of a heavy leather robe that went from his neck all the way down to his feet. Alastor was so lost in thought that his sons had to help him dress.
“The Justiciar of Scotia,” he repeated, almost in awe. “That is a powerful position, lads. It is not usual for a man like that to come on a mission such as this. Do you know what I think?”
“What?” Atlas demanded.
Alastor’s thought processes began to clear. “I think he’s here to get an answer to the missives that Canmore has been sending,” he said. “I never answered, so they’ve come for an answer in person.”
“Do you really think so?”
Alastor lifted his hands. “Why else would the Justiciar of Scotia come to call?” he asked. “The man holds tremendous power in Scotland. Now, if we could capture him…”
Both Atlas and Anteaus looked at their father in shock. Then they looked at each other as if considering the very possibility. “If we could capture him, it’s possible we could know more than we’ve possibly dreamed of,” Atlas said, his face alight. “And William the Rough would think twice before marching into England if we held his justiciar as a hostage.”
Alastor was warming to that idea. “Indeed, he would,” he said. “If MacDuff is foolish enough to come here, then he is taking a big chance. How many men did he bring with him?”
Anteaus appeared a little pained. “Hundreds, Papa,” he said. “It could be thousands, but it is dark so we cannot see how many with great accuracy. But we know there is an army with the man. If we take him hostage, they’ll not take kindly to it. We’ll find ourselves in a war.”
That brought Alastor pause. He pulled tight the robe that Anteaus had placed on him, fastening the ties at his chest in a thoughtful manner.
“If MacDuff has come to find out why I’ve not replied to Canmore’s missive, he brought an army for only two reasons that I can see,” he said. “If I agree, he will want to harbor his army inside The Keld. If I do not agree, he’ll use it to attack us. It seems to me that one way or the other, the Scots intend to use that army.”
That seemed to be the most logical conclusion. Atlas and Anteaus looked at their father, waiting for orders.
“Papa?” Anteaus finally said. “What will you have of us?”
Alastor drew in a long, thoughtful breath before replying. “Atlas,” he said softly. “You will make sure the army is well-prepared. If you have not done so already, I want men on the battlements, archers at the ready, and the entire army ready to defend The Keld to the last stone. Is that clear?”
Atlas nodded firmly. “It is, Papa.”
“Anteaus,” Alastor said, turning to his youngest son. “You will tell your sisters to close up the keep. All doors, all windows are to be shut and reinforced. The kitchens are to be sealed. Move the horses, and especially the chargers, down into the vault through the kitchen yard entrance. The vault will hold twenty or thirty horses, so move in as many as you can.”
“And the rest of the animals?”
“Keep them in the kitchen yard and away from the stables,” he said. “They should be safe in the fortified yard. But make sure the keep is secure and then join us at the gatehouse.”
Anteaus nodded. Alastor put his hand on his youngest son’s cheek, a gesture of reassurance, and sent both of his sons out to go about their tasks. He then waited a nominal amount of time before leaving his chamber and heading out to the bailey.
He had a man to speak with.
The enormous gatehouse of Castle Keld was lit by a dozen torches, all of them burning heavy with black smoke that gathered in the barrel-vaulted ceiling of the passageway. The soldiers were keeping their distance from the enormous portcullis, which had thankfully been lowered when the Scots appeared. The iron fangs dug deep into the ground, anchoring it, so there was no chance of loosening it or charging it. On one side stood Ares, and on the other side…
Dozens of dark figures.
Squaring his shoulders, Alastor stepped into the passageway, moving slowly for the portcullis.
Ares caught sight of him.
“This is my father, Sir Alastor de Bourne,” he said formally. “My lord, this is Sir Alexander MacDuff, Earl of Fife. He has asked to speak with you.”
He was indicating a man on the other side of the portcullis, wrapped heavily in woolen garments and leather shoes. Alastor could see that MacDuff was surprisingly young for a man with so much responsibility, with a head of dark hair and a dark beard that he kept neatly trimmed.
Alastor had expected a much older man.
He met the man’s gaze curiously, but cautiously.
“One wonders if you only wished to speak with me, then why did you bring an army?” he said casually. “That could be interpreted as threatening.”
MacDuff forced a smile, without humor. “I brought the army tae support ye, of course,” he said. “I’ve brought reinforcements for yer ranks.”
“Reinforcements for what?”
MacDuff blinked as if surprised by the question. “For our alliance.”
“There is no alliance.”
“But Alpin Canmore has sent ye missives tae that regard,” he said. “Did ye no’ receive them?”
“I’ve received them. And I’ve given no answer to that regard.” Alastor peered at him through the grate. “Why are you really here, MacDuff? Who has sent you to force this alliance upon me?”
MacDuff paused a moment, looking at Alastor and trying to read him. He was fairly certain that de Bourne wasn’t happy to see him. No man liked to be pressured into a life-changing decision by a stranger. But the resistance he was meeting was obvious and he could see that there was a reason why de Bourne hadn’t replied. He’d either ignored the missives or he wasn’t yet ready to respond. In any case, the time was upon him to make a choice.
MacDuff had come a long way for an answer.