“More so if the Earl of Surrey sends troops upstream to cross the river where sixty men can ride abreast.” Alexander met each man’s gaze. “If they choose such a tactic, I am unsure whether Wallace’s and de Moray’s troops can hold them.”
“What other choice is there?” Patrik asked.
Duncan exhaled. “Bloody none. Regardless, we will fight.”
Somberness smothered the chamber, thick with unspoken fears, raw with determination to free their country. Too well Patrik understood. If the English claimed Stirling Castle, the bloodied ground so far won by the rebels could be lost.
Patrik met his oldest brother’s gaze. “Have you begun plans to free Wishart?”
“A foundation,” Seathan replied. “I have sent runners to those familiar with the keep where the bishop is held to be sure the plan is solid.”
“I wish to help.” Patrik held his brother’s gaze. “And when you prepare to leave I will go with you.”
“You are too weak,” Seathan replied.
“And with your wounds raw, you hurt like a bastard,” Alexander added.
“There is that,” Patrik agreed, “but in a few days I will be able to ride and carry a sword as well as any man.”
“When the time comes to depart,” Seathan said, his eyes hard, “I will judge if you are strong enough.”
As much as Patrik wished to push for Seathan to agree, his brother’s decision was fair. Neither could he forget he stayed within Lochshire Castle by Seathan’s grace.
“How fares Mistress Cristina?” At Alexander’s covert glance at Seathan, Patrik tensed. “Is she well?”
“Aye.” Seathan hesitated. “She sleeps but a few chambers away.”
“But there is more?” Patrik asked, reading his brothers too well despite his year away.
Duncan cleared his throat, and Griffin shot Seathan an uneasy look.
Patrik’s nervousness built. “What?”
Alexander thrummed his fingers upon his dagger. “Last night I discovered Mistress Cristina within our grandmother’s chamber.”
“If her room is but a few doors away,” Patrik said, “what reason would bring her to the third floor?”
“A question I asked her,” Alexander replied. “The lass said she was searching for you.”
She’d tried to find him? Warmth touched Patrik’s heart, then he frowned. “Why would the lass have to search?”
“We thought it best for you to rest,” Seathan stated.
Rest bedamned. “She was not told where I was. Why?”
A muscle worked in Alexander’s jaw. “There is something about the lass that sits not right.”
Patrik eyed him. “Explain.”
In detail, Alexander recounted her skilled attack upon him during his fight with Patrik, then later, how he had found her creeping toward the back of the wagon in the dark as they’d neared Lochshire Castle.
“After my rescuing her,” Patrik said, “it makes sense she would try to protect me.”
Alexander grunted. “Mayhap, but when the lass wrapped her arms about my neck, she knew what she was about.”
Images of her killing the English knight flashed through Patrik’s mind. When he’d witnessed her skill with the blade, had he not wondered the same? But ’twas different. Now, they’d made love, shared a bond of trust.
Patrik shook his head. “Cristina was terrified for my life. Had Nichola seen you attacked, she would have done the same.”
