Page 136 of Feathers in the Wind
The wind whipped her dark hair into her eyes as she turned to face her own garrison. She pushed it back and raised her voice to be heard in every corner of the castle. “You have heard the words of a fool. Kinton Lacey will not fall to him. Even now word has gone to my father at Gloucester and relief will be with us before our food runs out.”
A scattered applause broke out, but the faces that looked up at her had lost their confidence. They all knew their position was dire and nothing she could say or do could instil the same bravado they had once shown. They were all tired, hungry and dirty, and time was running out.
Chapter 16
Deliverance could not say what woke her. She lay awake listening to the sound of steady rain beating against the boarded window of her bedchamber. Once she would have found that sound comforting, now it just meant more misery for the besieged. Over the rain she heard the muted sounds of men’s voices and heavy boots on the wooden floorboards below her.
She rose and padded out into the corridor and looked out of one of the windows that faced on to the courtyard. Shadowy figures moved in the light of covered lanterns and the indistinct murmur of voices drifted up to her. Horses stood waiting while men saddled them, their heads tossing and breath steaming in the damp, cool air.
Her fingers tightened on the windowsill. Was Luke deserting her? Leaving in the dead of night?
She returned to her chamber and being careful not to wake Penitence and the other women, grabbed some clothing, changing quickly in the corridor, before tiptoeing down the main stairs. She eased the front door open, taking a quick breath at the familiar profile of the tall man in a cloak and hat who stood watching the quiet activity from the top of the steps down into the courtyard.
“Luke?”
He spun around and put a finger to his lips. “Shh… keep your voice low.”
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going on a sortie.”
She glanced at the horses, twelve in all. Twelve against four hundred?
“No!” She clutched his sleeve and shook it. “No. I absolutely forbid it.”
She couldn’t see his face in the dark, but beneath her hand, the muscles of his arm tightened, and he shook her clinging hand free.
“Your objection is noted,” he said. “But there are good reasons for taking this action, Mistress Felton. We need food and we need action.”
“We can manage. We can’t spare a dozen men, Luke.”
“We have a plan, Deliverance. We’re not just riding out there with our fingers crossed. I have given four men the task of cutting out some cattle from the supply Farrington has in that meadow to the south of us and Hale and I—”
“You? Surely you’re not going?”
“Hale and I will take on the guns. If we can spike a couple of them in the time it takes the men to round up the cattle, it will be a good morning’s work.”
She stared at him, speechless.
He looked up at the glowering sky. “It’s a good morning for it. Even those of Farrington’s men officially on watch will be sheltering and the rain helps to deaden the sound of movement.” He pointed at the horses. “And I’ve muffled the horse’s hooves.”
Deliverance stood frozen to the spot. He really intended to ride out of the gates into the teeth of Farrington’s guns? She looked at the horses, their hooves swaddled in sacking. Inaction and poor food had robbed any condition from the pathetic beasts. She doubted they would carry the men far if the action got serious.
Hale appeared at the foot of the stairs. “We’re ready.”
Luke nodded and without another word to Deliverance strode down the stairs. The men mounted the horses, the animals shifting restlessly beneath the unaccustomed weight. Luke ran a hand down the nose of his horse, before swinging into the saddle. The horse tossed its head, prancing on its muffled hooves.
After a quick glance around at the men behind him, he gave a curt nod. The portcullis rattled upwards and the great bars across the gates slid back. The gates swung open and for the first time in weeks the outside world loomed beyond the dark portal.
Luke raised his hand and the little party moved forward on silent hoofs. Only as they reached the gatehouse did Luke put his heels to the horse and it sprang forward, as eager for action as he was. Deliverance ran to the wall, crouching down behind the ramparts as the twelve horsemen burst from the castle gate below her like demons from hell, spurring their horses on with grim determination.
They made hardly any noise and beyond the castle, the party split, the four soldiers designated with the task of rounding up the cattle turned to the south, while Luke and his seven men rode straight at the earthworks.
Deliverance cursed the dark and the rain that hid her view of the action on the earthworks. She could dimly make out the shapes of the horses, breasting the ramparts and she heard cries of alarm and the heavy clanging of steel, but no gunfire.
The rain must be their saviour, dampening match and powder and reducing the defenders to the steel-edged weapons.
Above her, their own little gun thundered from the Hawk Tower and she looked to the south where a small herd of lowing cattle were being driven hard toward the castle. From the fortified village came the rattle of drums and scattered gunfire as horses came flying like beasts of mythology, over the earthworks.
