"Then we must pray that it works," Iliana commented dryly, peering at the people lined up before her. Eight women and eight men. The women had resented being pulled away from the task of dousing fires below, until she had explained that she hoped that her plan would put an end to the volley of fireballs that continued to whiz over the wall. They had settled in to help with a small measure of contentment then. Ripping the linen Iliana had sent for into strips, they had wrapped them around the tips of arrows, then set them to soak in the half-empty barrel of whiskey she had had Rabbie split open for them.
Now the women waited by the barrel of soaking arrows, lit torches in hand, while the men stood by the eight barrels of whiskey that Rabbie had found.
"All right. Remember, you must try to get them as far as possible as quickly as possible," she reminded them once again, then leaned to the wall to see what Greenweld's men were doing. Seeing that they were about to light yet another fireball, she told the people on the wall to get ready, then shouted a warning to those below.
The people on the battlement pressed themselves close to the wall just as the fireball flew over, then hurried back to their places. The men rushed to the barrels. Working in twos, the four pairs picked up a barrel each and hurled them over in unison before rushing back to get their second. The women moved to the arrows then, each of them grabbing up a whiskey soaked weapon in their free hand and moving to the men's sides as they hurled the last barrels over.
Assured that they were doing exactly as she had instructed, Iliana moved to the wall to peer down at the Englishmen. They seemed quite confused by this turn of events. Four barrels of Scottish liquor had just flown off the wall and crashed on the half-built causeway, splashing every which way, and soaking a lot of the men as well as the catapult. Even now, another four were tumbling through the air. It was obvious that her fellow countrymen did not know what to make of it. But then, doubtless they did not know what she had learned by accident. Uisgebeatha was like food for a fire.
Glancing over her shoulder at her own people again, she saw that the men had split up to their individual slots and were even now loading their bows with the arrows the women handed them. Once that was done, the women each used the torches they held to spark the whiskey-soaked cloth tips to life. The men turned, aimed, and fired.
Iliana turned to peer below again. She had been very specific about where to aim the arrows. Four of the men were to shoot at the catapult, two at the causeway, and two at the barricade of shields, which she had hoped might get splashed. Her men were right on target. The first arrow hit the causeway, and even she was startled at the way it burst into flames, the fire splashing outward just as the whiskey had done before it, following its trail. The other arrows seemed to hit all at once, sparking the catapult and the men's shields at the same time. The whole area burst into flames with a whoosh.
Swallowing, Iliana peered at the catapult again, sighing when she saw that it was now gloriously ablaze. Hearing the people along the wall begin to cheer, she straightened and turned toward the stairs wearily.
"Watch them, Rabbie. Do they do anything else, fetch me. The rest of you get below and help put out the fires," she ordered without looking back. The Scots all fell silent at that, peering worriedly at her slumped shoulders before moving to follow her instructions.
When she reached Angus's room, Iliana found her mother and Janna already there, doing their best to hold the old warrior down in his bed.
"Nay. You will not get up," her mother was arguing as Iliana entered.
"Aye," Janna panted, pressing down hard on his uninjured shoulder in an attempt to keep him down. "Ye've been sore injured."
"'Tis naught but a scratch, woman. Let me up." When that had no effect on Iliana's mother, he turned to glare at Janna. "I am yer laird!" he pointed out on an outraged roar.
The maid hesitated at that, then shook her head. "Nay. Ye said Lady Iliana was in charge until ye recovered. Yer not recovered."
He opened his mouth to blast the poor woman for that, then spied Iliana. "Lass! There ye are. Tell these harpies to let me up."
Iliana smiled slightly at his pleading expression and moved to the bedside to peer down at him, taking in the angry red in his cheeks. "You are feeling better then?"
"Aye."
Reaching out, she felt his forehead, relieved to find that fever was not the reason behind his new color.
"Good," she announced abruptly, gesturing to Janna and her mother to leave him be. Janna moved away from the bed at once, but Lady Wildwood hesitated.
"He should not be up yet. He needs rest to heal properly."
"He will rest. We will not let him do anything strenuous, but he can sit below and give orders now."
Her mother relaxed at that while Angus stiffened.
"I am laird here, lass. I'll decide what I can or cannot do." He shifted his legs over the side of the bed and stood abruptly, then paled and swayed sickly on his feet.
Iliana reached out to steady him at once.
Grabbing her hand gratefully, he sank back onto the side of the bed again. "Well, mayhap I shall take it a bit easy." Even saying that made him grimace with distaste. Frowning, he speared Iliana with a look. "Yer mother told me o' yer plan with the uisgebeatha. Did it work?"
She nodded solemnly. "The causeway and catapult are ablaze. Rabbie is watching to see what they try next. I told him to call me if they did anything."
"Good." He nodded solemnly. "And the messenger?"
"You were asleep when I returned. Gertie was to tell you that he was missing."
"Missing?" Janna asked with obvious surprise.
"Aye. He must have slipped out ere the gate was closed."
"Nay." She shook her head firmly. "He was abed after we brought the laird up here. I checked on him myself."
"He was not there yester eve when I looked."
Janna frowned at that, as did Angus.
"Go check on him again. If he is not there, post guards and start a search," he ordered.
Nodding, Iliana turned toward the door. Janna started to follow her, then hesitated and glanced toward Lady Wildwood, then Angus.
"Go with her," Angus waved her away. "I'll keep an eye on Lady Wildwood."
Iliana's mother scowled at that, then smiled sweetly. "Aye, and I shall be sure he does not overdo."
Shaking her head at the war of wills that was about to play out between the older couple, Iliana led the servant out of the chamber and down the hall to the room the messenger had been given. She truly did not expect him to be there, so when she opened the door and stepped inside to see him lying in the bed,
apparently sound asleep, she stopped abruptly and frowned.
"See," Janna whispered. "Mayhap in all the excitement ye peered into the wrong chamber."
"Nay. 'Twas this chamber." Shifting her feet, she glanced around the room, looking for any sign that might prove he had not been here the last time she had looked, but there was nothing. Peering at his face again, she shook her head and stepped back out of the room, pulling the door quietly closed.
"Mayhap he went in search of the privy," Janna suggested.
"Aye, mayhap, but..."
The woman raised her eyebrows at Iliana's hesitation. "But?"
"There are a couple of things bothering me just now." Iliana sighed. "It probably means nothing...but I shall tell you anyway. This morn, when the attack started, Elgin came to fetch me."
"Aye?"
"Well...you remember the night I was attacked?"
The woman nodded, shuddering. "Laird Angus said 'twas a mighty close call."
"Aye, well, when I rolled over this morn and found Elgin looming over me, I thought the attacker had returned."
Her eyes rounded at that. "That must have been distressin'."
"Aye, but it was then that I realized that he wore a plaid."
Janna frowned. "Elgin?"
"Nay. Well, aye. But I meant that the attacker did as well."
She considered that briefly. "Maybe he stole it and--" She paused when Iliana began to shake her head.
"The dead Englishman had no plaid in his belongings. Besides, there is something else. When I spoke to Greenweld, he said something that bothered me as well."
"What was that?"
"He said 'twas not his fault that Duncan had left us unprotected. How did he know Duncan had left?"
"Mayhap he and his men were already here when Duncan and the others rode out."
"Mayhap," Iliana agreed. "But he knows not what Duncan looks like. How did he know it was my husband leading the men, and not Angus? 'Sides, if he was nearby when Duncan left, why did he not attack right away?"
Janna frowned. "You are thinking that the reason the messenger was not here was that he was somehow sneaking about, giving Greenweld information? But why would he do that? If he works for Lord Rolfe--"
"If he works for Lord Rolfe."
The servant gasped. "You think--"