Her heart warmed. “And here I was thinking of kissing you. Now ’twill wait until you have scrubbed up.”
Laughter in his eyes, he brushed a swath of hair from her face. “Are you saying that you dinna want a kiss?”
At his teasing, the remainder of the tension weighing heavy upon her faded. “Nay, I—”
“You and your brother have bought us much-needed time,” the duke stated with pride as he strode toward them.
In the wash of the first rays of golden light, Thomas studied the charred outlines of the trebuchet, the weave of black smoke littered with sparks curling into the lightening sky. “Aye.”
On edge, Alesone glanced into the murky light where Comyn’s men battled the blazes, a potent reminder of the dangers Thomas and his brother had faced.
“Once all of the fires are put out,” Thomas said, his voice grim, “they will be deciding their next plan of attack.”
“They will.” The duke paused. “Donnchadh left to scrub off at least the top layer of grime.” Humor touched the noble’s face. “I canna say that I envied either of you smearing on such filth.”
“However foul,” Thomas said, “it allowed us to accomplish the task.”
His father nodded. “That it did.”
Alesone prayed that repelling the attack had gained them enough time to allow King Bruce’s men to arrive. Or had the enemy killed Sir John MacLairish before he could deliver his missive? Dread crept through her. If so, this entire night been for naught.
Chapter Nineteen
Through the soft fall of snow, Thomas cursed as he stood on the battlement, stared at the new construction beginning in Comyn’s encampment. Two blasted days had passed and during that time they’d received more supplies. He’d expected them to build another trebuchet, but nae so soon. With each sunrise, he’d prayed to see signs of the Templar Knights riding with the Bruce’s men, hope that with each sunset faded.
Against the first rays of light, he glanced toward his father. “This time they are building four siege engines.”
The duke frowned. “Aye, one for each side of Dair Castle. After you and Donnchadh torched their first trebuchet they will nae be foolish enough to leave their war machines unprotected.”
On a rough swallow, Thomas met his brother’s frustrated gaze before facing his father. “Regardless, we must try to destroy them.”
“If I thought a chance existed, I would send you and your brother out this night.” The duke glared at the encampment. “Since their last attack, their numbers have doubled, and they have tripled the amount of men guarding their supplies and siege engines. With our surprise factor lost, any attempt to infiltrate their camp will fail.”
However much Thomas wanted to argue, he agreed. Nor was that their only concern. “Though Comyn’s men have kept out of arrow range, throughout the morning they have begun to surround the castle.”
“You think they are going to attack?” Alesone asked as she joined them.
Thomas damned the nerves in her voice. “Nae until they have finished the war machines.”
“Their few failed attempts have assured them that without proper weaponry any attempt would end in further defeat,” Donnchadh said. “For now they are laying siege.”
“Which tells me,” Thomas said, “they are confident we willna be receiving any reinforcement.”
Fear slid into her eyes. “You think Sir John didna make it past my father’s forces?”
His gut churned at the thought. Thomas shrugged. “We canna be sure.”
The scowl on his father’s face deepened. “Neither can we sit here and do naught. The day I give up without a fight is the day my bones are buried deep in the earth.” He eyed his sons. “We will send a second runner to the Bruce.”
“I shall go,” Thomas said. “I am well enough to travel, and my men are there as well. I can answer any questions and make plans during our return.”
After a moment’s hesitation, his father nodded. “I will pen a writ for you to give the king.” He left.
“I can ride along as well,” Donnchadh said.
“’Tis best if I go alone. And,” he said, glancing toward Alesone, “I ask that you watch over her.”
“I think,” she said, her voice cool, “that I have more than proven that I am able to take care of myself.”
