Aiden sheathed his sword and ran for one of the two ropes dangling from the ramparts. Niall was the first to reach the other.
Aware that Niall considered him to be a little soft due to his role as chief, Aiden put substantial effort into the climb. He reached the top of the forty-foot wall ahead of his brother and grinned at him in the dark.
“A sennight ago, I took an arrow in the chest,” Niall whispered with a shrug.
“Impossible.”
“Ask Ana.”
Aiden took stock while he waited for the others to gain the wall. A dozen soldiers huddled around a fire pit in the close, warming themselves against the winter chill. Another six, armed with bows, stood at various spots along the wall, looking out at the forest.
To succeed, Aiden’s men needed to reach the donjon without attracting attention. Not an easy feat, given that the only way into the tower was through the big wooden door in the close. But they had to move—it was only a matter of time before someone spotted them in the shadows.
When all ten men were crouched on the ramparts, he waved them forward.
“Take three men and fetch our lads,” Aiden told Niall. “I’ll create a diversion on the south wall.”
Niall and his three men went right, keeping to the shadows. Aiden went left, his gaze firmly locked on the young archer immediately in front of him. The lad’s peripheral vision caught his movement when he was a dozen paces away, and the short but powerful bow he carried swung in Aiden’s direction.
Aiden gave up stealth in favor of speed. The foolish fellow neglected to call the alarm as he scrambled to nock and loose an arrow. Aiden’s sword ended his effort swiftly and with little more than a gurgle. He caught the archer’s falling body and dropped it over the wall.
A moment later, he entered the door to the gatehouse. To create a successful diversion, he had to pose a credible threat to the castle. As long as the portcullis was lowered, the additional men he had waiting outside the gate were little more annoying than a swarm of angry bees.
He took the stairs to the middle level two at a time. The two soldiers on gate duty drew their swords as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Having been in the winch house numerous times, Aiden knew the layout well. He leapt from the stairs to the huge rope roll that fed the portcullis and kicked the weapon from the hand of soldier number one. Then he pivoted to parry a thrust from soldier number two.
That’s when Aiden’s luck ran out.
The first soldier had the sense to raise the alarm before retrieving his weapon, and the man he was dueling turned out to be a highly skilled swordsman. Aiden blocked a skillful slash. He had but moments to dispatch his opponent before the guards bunking in the first-floor garrison came thundering up the steps.
* * *
Isabail stared at the open entrance to the tunnel and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Her exit was unimpeded. The ancient winch had not sealed the door. Her heartbeat slowed and her panic receded. Should she give up the search and return to her bed, or go back into the tunnel?
It was very tempting to call an end to her adventure. But this was a rare opportunity—who knew when she would enjoy this much freedom again? And the winch had moved something.
Something important,her gut told her.
She took a deep breath. Back into the tunnel, then.
Returning to the cave, she began a thorough examination of the walls. She traced every crack in the stone and pushed every protruding bump in hopes of finding a hidden passage. Nothing. She stepped back into the tunnel and studied the mouth of the cave. A series of glyphs were carved in the archway, but none seemed to stand out more than any other.
Turning slowly, she eyed the flat wall that announced the end of the tunnel some twenty paces farther along. Although the torch light barely reached that far, she could see that it, too, was covered with symbols. Strange. None of the other walls of the tunnel were marked in a similar fashion.
She walked toward the wall, studying the symbols. Unlike other Pictish stones she’d seen, all of the markings on this slab of granite were depictions of animals: a boar, a bull, a wolf, a goose, a fish, and a snake. Nary an enigmatic circle or bent arrow to be seen.
Curious.
John had been fascinated by the symbols left behind by the Painted Ones and had amassed a collection of smaller stones, which he had kept in the stables. He enjoyed knowing that the land he owned had once been walked upon by an ancient people.
Isabail traced the etched shape of a goose with her finger. Some barbaric warrior of old had painstakingly chiseled this symbol into the rock.
Why?
She peered through the half-light at the rock wall. The shadows in the corners were deep, and she could not make out where one wall ended and the next began. Sliding her hands along the rock, she felt for the corner... and found the faintest of grooves—a groove that ran all the way to the floor and was echoed on the other side.
A thrill ran down Isabail’s spine.
It was a door.
