Rowan's Lady by Suzan Tisdale Read Free Book Online Page B

was thankful there was no moon this night for
they needed the complete cover of darkness to gain entry.
    Had the kidnapping taken place five years ago or
even a few more years into the future, Rowan would have had hundreds of men to
help him lay siege to Blackthorn Castle. But the Black Death of 1350 had
decimated not only his own clan, but countless others across Scotland. It would
be years before the Graham Clan could ever reach the number of able-bodied
fighting men they had prior to that awful, dark time.
    Two of Rowan’s best men had been watching the keep
for days, hidden in the forests that surrounded it. Rowan had requested help
from clans McDougall, McKee and McDunnah the very day he had received the news
that his daughter had been taken. The chief from each of these clans had brought
with them as many men as they could, which was not many. The numbers of these
clans had been significantly reduced by the same cursed epidemic that had come
close to wiping out Rowan’s clan.
    Though their numbers had dwindled and their
resources were just as scarce, not one had turned down Rowan’s request for
help. Rowan had never been more thankful for the alliance and friendship that
had been forged amongst himself and these clans as he was this night.
    Nial McKee and twenty-five of his men, along with
the thirty that Duncan McEwan brought from clan MacDougall, were encamped and
well hidden some two miles south of Blackthorn keep. To the north and east,
Caelen McDunnah and fifty of his men waited for word as well. Rowan had brought
nearly every able-bodied man in his clan, a sad number at twenty. He had left
behind barely enough to defend his keep.
    As Rowan waited in the dark forest, he quietly
tallied the number of men at his disposal. It was, to say the least, a dismal
number. He sorely wished he could simply lay siege to the damned keep, rush in,
find his daughter, and then leave nothing but burning embers in his wake.
Instead of a full out invasion, Rowan and his men would have to rely on
cunning, stealth, and a heavy dose of divine intervention.
    His men had reported that the best way into the
keep was at the weakest point on the north side. That part of the keep was not
well guarded. Rowan could only suppose it was because the entire north side was
nothing but flat land and it would be quite easy to see someone approaching.
    They would have to make their way in from the west
and work their way around to the north side. It would by no means be an easy
expedition, but it would be worth it.
    They decided that Rowan, Frederick and Daniel
would be the three men who made their way into the keep. Frederick had tried,
quite unsuccessfully, to talk Rowan out of actually entering the keep. Rowan,
however, was unmovable on the point. It was his daughter who had been
kidnapped. Rowan was fully intent on getting her back. And if God saw to it and
allowed him the opportunity, he would be the one who cut Garrick Blackthorn’s
throat.
    The three men were covered from head to toe in
black clothing. They had also painted their faces and hands with black paint.
Every weapon, even the rope they carried, was painted black. Ginger-haired
Frederick and blond-headed Daniel had black hoods draped over their heads. They
were taking enough chances as it was without the light from a torch or candle
somewhere within the keep glinting off anything.
    With quiet, stealthy precision, they made their
way across the western portion of Blackthorn lands, toward the keep by crawling
on their bellies. It took some time, but after more than half an hour, they
reached the outer wall.
    With no more sound than a cat walking across the
grass, they made their way along the outer wall to the north side. With
practiced skill, they maintained steady breathing, as well as steady steps
until they were able to find a good place to climb over the wall.
    With great care and silence, Frederick removed the
rope draped across his shoulder. Taking the looped end in one hand, he