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“You too,” I say. “Have you been upstairs? I’d like to find a more private room; I’m soaked.”
“Ach, I’ve not,” he says. “I’ll go with you, though. You shouldn’t be alone.” He doesn’t wait for my assent before heading to the stairs. We’re partway up before he speaks again. “Where’s Duncan? Is he…”
“He’s alive,” I say, firmly, “but he’s in trouble.”
“I’ll help rescue him, you say the word,” he says, steel in his voice.
I choke as I respond, having to force the words out. He doesn’t question where, or what trouble before offering his help. He’s committing himself blindly and something about that warms my heart in ways I can’t possibly express.
“Thank you,” I say.
We emerge onto the second floor, which looks much the same as the first, but there are rooms with doors. The first three rooms we look at the doors have been smashed and torn apart; I assume to use for firewood. We make our way down a long hall and at the end there is a room that the door is still intact.
Gair forces the door open, having to hit it twice with his shoulder. The door drags, scraping loudly across the stone floor. Inside is a bed, lacking bedding, and the mattress is on the floor by the window, which surprisingly enough still has glass in it. Gair carefully inspects the room, looking under the bed, the mattress, and everything before deciding its safe.
“This will work,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say as he moves around the room, gathering debris. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll set you a fire,” he says. “Fireplace there, it will warm this up right nice.”
I smile at his kindness. I could build a fire, Alesoun has taught me the basics of surviving, but it is nice to have someone care enough to think about it. It’s the kind of thing Duncan would do. And my throat clenches tight once again.
Oh, Duncan.
Gair gets a nice fire going and places a pile of wood debris next to it, so I won’t even have to search to keep it going.
“Thank you, again,” I say.
“Of course,” he says, his eyes on the ground. “You’ll, uhm, want to get dry. I’m going to set my bedroll outside your door.”
“Gair, you don’t have to do that,” I say.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Probably not, but I want to. I don’t trust those Brits. I’ve heard what they do to our women when they find them unawares.”
I touch his cheek and lift his face until our eyes meet.
“Thank you, Gair, truly,” I say.
His face turns bright red in the firelight, and he nods before rushing to the door. It scrapes loudly as he forces it closed. I stand in front of the fire, staring at the dancing flames. In the coals I see dark shapes that twist and struggle.
A crushing weight settles on my shoulders, and I place a hand on the stone mantle, bowing my head.
ChapterFour
I ty to sleep,but it’s fitful. Every time I close my eyes, I have a nightmare of Duncan being ripped away. It happens again and again. At some point I pass out, but when I get up, I don’t feel any more rested than when I laid down. The sun is shining through the wavy glass of the window and there is no time for lying around feeling sorry for myself.
I retrieve my skirts from the makeshift drying rack I rigged next to the fire before attempting to sleep. They’re still damp, but no longer soaked, which is a great improvement. I dress then go to the window and look down on the courtyard.
Men mill about. Some are clearly working on repairs or defensive constructs, but just as many seem to be wandering aimlessly. Even from this distance I can feel their despair, which I understand only too well.
They’ve lost and they know it. Four British soldiers corner a Scotsman next to the outer wall. He takes the first swing, but there is no doubt it was provoked. The five men scuffle until another two men come and break it up.
This is no alliance; it’s at best a joining of enemies against a bigger enemy. How am I supposed to get these men to set aside their long-held prejudices and hates? I turn from the window with new worries weighing on my shoulders and go to my door. It sticks when I try to open it and I try jerking.
“One moment,” Gair says. He’s right outside. “Step back a bit, if you do nae mind, Quinn.”
I do as he asks, watching him through the crack. He steps out of sight, then slams into the door with his shoulder. There is a crack followed by a scrape and the door jerks open and Gair follows, stumbling into my room and coming to a stop in the middle.
