As evening fell, Katarina sat on the wide stone seat under the tall, curved window in the high tower. Sunset had already done its brief deed, and was now nothing but a thin red scar on the horizon. It would be a short twilight. Already the sky was a brilliant sapphire blue, darkening to ebony. And on the horizon, storm clouds built.
When she heard the step on the landing, she turned, her heart hammering. She didn’t know if it was due to fear or hope. Fear that Aodh was coming up.
Hope that he was.
Accursed hope.
An urgent whisper came through the keyhole. She crossed over and crouched before it.
“My lady,” a voice said softly. “My lady, ’tis I, Walter.”
Resignation mingled with admiration. How had he got out?
“My lady, are you well?”
She was touched. But then, Walter had been her guardian, at least in name, for many years. She whispered back, “I am fine. How goes it belowstairs? Are you all safe?”
His next whisper was less solicitous. “Have you lost your mind, girl?”
She sighed. Even in whispers through keyholes, Walter was a force for shame. “No, I simply realized accession was not the route to our greater goals.”
“He’ll kill the garrison for what you’ve done.”
“No, he won’t,” she said, realizing the truth as she said it. “But he might kill you,” she added solemnly, mischievously.
Wherever had mischief come from? And at such a time.
Whatever its source, it earned an exasperated sigh from outside the thick oak door. “He’s locked us all up.”
“You seem to have made it out.”
A pause. “I had to go over the books.”
She touched the door. “Seeing as you are yet at liberty, Walter, you must be the one to get a message out.”
“A message!” He sounded shocked. “The castle is locked up tight, my lady. Wind barely gets out, and only Irishmen get in. I could not get a fly out, let alone a person with a message.”
“But you must try, Walter.” She scooted closer to the door and dropped her voice lower. “The queen must be told that Rardove has been taken. She must be told we stand firm.”
A long silence followed. “My lady, I have been thinking…”
Oh no.
“Perhaps your course was wisest after all.”
Now she was silent. Had that been a compliment? A concession? An admission? Had she struck her head? Had Walter struck his?
“What do you mean?” she whispered back.
“Perhaps it would be wisest to play along with the savage’s desires.”
“Whatever happened to the funeral pyre?” she asked angrily.
“He has imprisoned the entire castle, my lady. No one may leave, no one may enter. It is locked down entirely. Because of you.”
They had already covered this ground. “It is locked down because they are in the midst of a rebellion. Now, dear Walter, seeing as you are not locked up, please do find a way to get a message out. Send two, by separate means, perhaps a village child? If they can get so far as—”
“To what end?”