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Chapter 9
The summons for help came just before dawn, while the whole abbey slept. Piper was the first to hear the familiar, continuous screech of a bird that was no bird, and alerted the other women. They donned men’s clothing and with silent steps snuck away from the abbey so as not to be heard. They fetched their weapons in the woods and proceeded to the Timminses farm, where their horses were kept. Then without hesitation they rode to Gillian’s, the farm that was under attack.
Terese knew that once Lachlan departed the abbey Septimus, by order of his leader, would have his men guarding the area, and there would be no more need to continue the ruse of mercenaries. Until then, when a summons for help came, the women would have to answer.
The women arrived before any severe damage could be done to the family or the farm. It took more than a skirmish to conquer the small group of clan warriors who had made it past the mercenary camp without detection. It took all of the women’s skills and strengths, the use of wit rather than brawn, and Terese’s strategizing skills to combat them.
The women made the warriors believe there were more fierce mercenaries than the five of them. Piper set traps in a particular area and the other women made certain they drove the warriors right into them.
Unfortunately, as the conquered warriors beat a hasty retreat, one released an arrow that found its way into Terese’s upper arm. Before the other women could retaliate, Septimus and a few of his men appeared and finished off the retreating warriors.
Septimus’s black stallion pranced majestically around her chestnut mare. “What foolishness is this?” He reached out and pulled off the stocking cap that kept Terese’s long blond hair hidden, the silky strands falling in a mess around her face. “If I hadn’t recognized you, you would all be dead right now.”
“You’re the one that let this group get past your camp,” Terese shot back as she fought the burning pain in her arm.
“Let her be,” Hester warned, riding up beside him brandishing her sword.
“You are a fool,” Septimus spat. “Are you blind to the many men that surround you?”
Hester laughed. “It takes only one sword to kill one man.”
Septimus grinned and looked to Terese with a shake of his head. “You taught these women courage, didn’t you?”
“What difference does it make?” Hester demanded.
“Few truly brave leaders exist,” Septimus said. “I and my men respect those who do. Sister Terese has earned our respect.”
“And that means…?” Hester challenged.
“More than you know,” Septimus said with a cold stare that turned Hester silent.
“How did you know we were here?” Terese asked, turning paler by the minute.
Rowena rode up just then and shooed everyone out of her way. “You need to be off your horse so that I can tend that.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Septimus said. “There’s a contingent of warriors from your abbey headed this way and something tells me that they don’t know about your warrior skills.”
Terese shook her head, trying to keep her mind focused, but the pain was taking its toll.
“Go,” she ordered Septimus. “They must not know about you and your men.”
“What of you?”
Terese sent him a hard glare. “You doubt my ability to handle this?”
“No, I would never be as foolish as the man who comes for you.”
Her eyes widened and Septimus eased his horse closer to hers.
“Neither I nor my leader are fools. He advises caution with this game you play, for he has no doubt it will bring retribution.”
Terese groaned as he rode away, his men following. Septimus intimated that he knew that she and the other women weren’t nuns, but did he? She had no time to think on this new worry. Gratefully, all four of the Gillians were fine and William, the oldest son, offered to help return the horses to the Timmins farm. And the women needed to return to the abbey with all haste, while hopefully avoiding Lachlan and his men in the process.
“Piper,” she called and the wiry young girl appeared in a flash. “Can you misdirect them?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “I know how they picked up our trail.”
“How?” Terese asked, the other women, just as curious, having joined in.
Hester answered. “It was me. I had forgotten the extra cache of arrows and backtracked to retrieve them, not covering my tracks good enough.”
“What’s done is done,” Terese said. “What matters is what we do now.” She ordered with the confidence of a true leader and in minutes the women set to work.
When it was only she and Rowena, Terese asked, “How bad is the wound?”
“The arrow went clean through the fleshy part of your arm,” Rowena explained. “It’s going to hurt like hell removing it, and it may require a few stitches if the flesh tears. Then we have to be careful of poison setting in and of course fever—”
