"Parker?" the guard remaining at the entrance called, then muttered a curse. "Parker!"
From what Cyrus recalled, 'twas the name of one of Elspeth traitorous guards who had abandoned her. No doubt the knave yelling was also one of them. His boots thudded down the steps.
Cyrus quickly retrieved the stone and waited. Could he be so lucky as to perform the same trick again?
As the second guard rounded the corner, he stayed a great distance from the bush. "Parker?" After glancing at the bush, he trod farther along the wide cobblestone path toward the overgrown garden. "Are you back here?"
Sword in his left hand and the stone in his right, Cyrus abandoned his hiding place, rushed in behind the guard and bashed him on the head. Snarling, the man spun, slashing his sword. Cyrus ducked and switched his sword to his right hand.
Needing to disable the bloke as quickly and silently as possible, he feigned a strike to his knee, causing the man to block low, while Cyrus spun to the side and kicked his hip. The man toppled to the ground. Cyrus smashed his basket-hilt against the man's head. Finally, he lay still.
Cyrus confiscated the man's black cloak, then dragged him behind the weedy, overgrown bramble patch. He put on the cloak, then lodged both the swords deep inside the yew bush. If someone happened to disarm him, he would return and grab one of these backup swords.
He peered from behind the shrub again. He was glad to see that the empty courtyard was growing darker. Fortunately, no one had lit any torches yet. 'Haps 'twas the responsibility of these two daft sheep.
After pulling the cloak's cowl over his head, Cyrus ventured out and climbed the steps toward the entrance. He would take up the post of one of the disabled guards. Peering through the small window into the candlelit great hall, he could see the wee cocky bastard sitting at his high table having supper.
When a man moved out of his line of sight, he discovered that Elspeth sat at the table also. He was relieved that she appeared unharmed, but his muscles tensed with the need to charge in. A moment later, someone yanked open the door. Cyrus drew back, sword hidden behind his leg.
The guard stuck his bald head out, and Cyrus remembered him as Balcot, one of Henry's head guards who had tied him up at Darby Hall. Fury wound through his vitals when he realized this was also the blackguard who had wanted to kill Fraser and put him out of his misery. Fortunately, Cyrus's face was hidden beneath the cowl in the low light.
"What are you doing?" Balcot demanded, the scent of whisky strong on his breath. "Trying to peep in at the whore? Light the torches, you imbecile!"
Suppressing the rage swarming his veins, Cyrus disguised his voice, trying to sound like one of the men he'd clobbered. "I cannot find Parker."
"What?" Balcot came out and shut the door, blocking the voices and laughter from inside.
"Parker vanished."
Balcot turned his head and surveyed the bailey. Seizing the opportunity, Cyrus shoved him, causing him to flip over the stair rail and crash to the ground.
"My leg!" Balcot roared. "You bastard! I'll kill you!"
Cyrus ran down the steps, took Balcot's sword and smashed it against his head. He dropped silent. Humph… Balcot's leg was crooked at the wrong angle. 'Tis what he deserved for wanting to kill Fraser. He could've been the one who broke Fraser's arm.
Cyrus dragged the heavy guard around the opposite corner of the building, then rolled him onto his stomach. He didn't want to kill a pile of men, but he did want to weaken and disable Henry's army. A head guard with a broken leg wouldn't be of much use. He certainly couldn't ride.
When Cyrus picked up the two swords again, he realized the heavier one felt familiar. Though he couldn't see well in the darkness, he knew 'twas his own sword that Balcot must have stolen from him back at Darby.
Before Cyrus reached the steps again, two men left the barracks and headed toward the castle's entrance.
One glanced up at the top of the steps. "Those two idlers have left their posts."
"Maybe his lairdship invited them to dine at the high table with their former lady."
They cackled.
Relishing his disguise in the midst of enemies, Cyrus approached from the side. He kept his weapons hidden beneath the cloak. "Could one of you help me find Parker?"
"Find him yourself!" The man started up the steps.
The other guard paused, eyeing him. "Remove your cowl."
"Why should I?"
The man withdrew his sword and held it downward at an angle. "Who are you?"
"Your darkest nightmare." Cyrus tightened his hands on the sword hilts.
