Page 43 of Bride of Fire
“Do ye have a bairn o’ your own?” Bethac asked.
Jenefer could hear her cousin snickering at the window.
“Nay,” Jenefer said politely. “I do not.”
“Ye’ll make a good mother one day,” Bethac told her.
Jenefer arched a dubious brow at Miles. She would have sworn the babe returned her doubtful glower.
From the window, Feiyan, distracted by something outside, murmured, “They’re preparing for siege.”
Jenefer stiffened. “What?”
She unceremoniously tucked the babe under one arm, disregarding Bethac’s gasp of horror as she did so, and strode to the window.
Young lads were placing buckets of water along the palisade. There was only one reason for that—to extinguish fire in the event of an attack.
In the distance, she could see sheep being driven through the palisade gates.
And from an embrasure atop the castle wall, an archer stood at the ready, his gaze fixed in the direction of Rivenloch.
They knew. Theyknew.
“Shite.”
“Is somethin’ amiss?” Bethac asked. Her concern for the babe was etched in her brow.
Shifting Miles to hold him in one arm against her shoulder, Jenefer confronted the maidservant. “Why are you preparing for siege?”
“I don’t know, Miss. I only do what the laird commands.”
“And what exactly has he commanded?”
The old woman blinked, startled by Jenefer’s demanding question.
Jenefer realized, as Hallie was fond of saying, she might get further with honey than with vinegar. So she gentled her voice and asked a different question. “What are my cousin and I meant to do? Are we in danger?”
Bethac straightened with pride. “Oh nay, Miss, not with Laird Morgan in command. He knows what to do. And he’s brought some o’ the finest warriors in the Highlands. We’ll be safe and sound. Ye’ll see.”
Jenefer’s mood soured at once. Apparently the element of surprise wasn’t on her side after all. How Morgan had learned about the approaching army, she didn’t know. But it seemed he was expecting them.
At least she knew Rivenloch’s numbers were greater. Besides, the “finest warriors in the Highlands” surely couldn’t compare to her uncle’s knights, who were undoubtedly the finest warriors in all ofScotland.
Crafty Feiyan decided to mine what information she could out of the maidservant. She feigned casual interest in the activities taking place in the courtyard.
“The warriors look fierce. How many are they?”
“A dozen so far,” Bethac admitted. “The laird brought half his father’s men and planned to hire more here. But they’re braw lads and fine fighters.” Then she beamed. “My grandson, William, fights for the clan as well.”
Feiyan’s eyes softened, and only Jenefer could detect the spark of cunning in their depths. “Is he a proper knight with a claymore and a targe, your William?”
“Oh, nay. He’s an archer.”
“My brother is an archer,” Feiyan lied, “one of thirty in my father’s company.”
“Thirty!” Bethac exclaimed. “My William is one of eight who came with us.”
“Only eight? He must be skilled indeed,” Feiyan said.
