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Tobias shrugged. “The truth is that she ran off and we have not seen her,” he said. “Isn’t that the truth?”

Havilland nodded, starting to soften towards him a little. “That is true,” she said. “And Amaline….”

“Amaline has no idea where Madeline is.”

“Nay, she does not, but….”

“There is nothing more to tell him about Amaline,” he said, cutting her off.

“Truthfully, Havilland, what will we tell him? That Madeline was spying and Amaline released her sister from the vault so she could run straight to the Welsh? The situation is already over. Madeline is already back with the Welsh and they already know what they know. Telling my father how they know it will not change things. I simply see no need to incriminate Amaline for her sister’s actions. There is no point.”

Havilland sighed heavily, greatly relieved by the conversation. She had yet to speak to Tobias about the situation since Jamison left and was pleased to see that Tobias wasn’t willing to implicate Madeline or Amaline at this point. It eased her attitude towards him, just a little.

“Amaline is very sorry for what she did,” she said. “She is young and easily manipulated. She understands what she did is wrong. Keeping her in the vault for those few days terrified her so I doubt she will do anything so stupid ever again.”

Tobias lifted his eyebrows. “Let us hope not,” he said. “And you? How are you faring after Madeline and Amaline’s little adventures?”

Havilland shrugged. “I am well,” she said, lying through her teeth. “There is nothing I can do about anything, in any case. We must go on.”

Tobias’ gaze lingered on her for a moment.

When he finally spoke, it was hesitantly.

“Havilland, I will not pretend that I do not know about you and Jamison,” he said quietly.

“He told me that you two were to marry and from what I gather now with all that has happened, that will not take place. I just wanted to say that I admire Jamison a great deal. He is a great man. I am sorry if you are hurt by his return to Scotland, but you must understand that a man like Jamison Munro… he does not belong to himself. That is to say, he belongs to his clan. To Scotland. He was never his own man, able to make his own decisions, no matter what he told you.”

Havilland was embarrassed to speak of such things to Tobias.

She was terribly uncomfortable with the subject.

“He… he will make a great chief,” she said, now suddenly uneasy to speak to Tobias.

She didn’t want to elaborate on what he’d said, fearful she might break down.

“If you will excuse me, I must see to the gatehouse.”

She was fumbling for a reason to leave, heading towards the ladder that led down to the bailey, but Tobias stopped her.

“Havilland, wait,” he said quickly. “I am sorry. I did not mean to chase you away and I am aware this is none of my concern, but I just wanted you to know that I am my own man. I can make my own decisions. So when the time comes for you, when you are ready to consider such things… remember that.”

So, he’d spelled it out. He was, in fact, interested in her. But Havilland wasn’t interested in him. She couldn’t even think of such things. In fact, she was angry at him for even bringing it up.

“I will never again consider such things,” she told him sternly. “Tobias, I consider you a friend but nothing more. I do not wish to ever discuss this again.”

Tobias could see that she was agitated and it was his fault, he knew. He’d been too soon after Jamison’s departure with making his feelings known. Struggling to make up for his clumsy attempt, both he and Havilland were distracted by a sudden commotion at the gatehouse.

They could hear men calling to each other and the sounds of the iron chains as they lifted the portcullises. Curious, Havilland quickly descended the ladder with Tobias right behind her. They made their way into the gatehouse just as a patrol was returning.

But this was no ordinary return. The patrol was riding at high speed, hitting the gatehouse so fast that men had to jump out of the way.

The leader of the patrol was yelling for the portcullises to be lowered, frantic in his manner, and Havilland and Tobias ran to the man as he pulled his frothing steed to a halt.

Tobias grabbed the reins of the excited animal as Havilland narrowly avoided being stepped on by the beast.

“What is it, Cynfric?” she called to the man. “What has happened?”

The soldier was an older man, quite winded and red in the face. He dismounted his horse, nearly falling in his haste.

“Welsh, my lady,” he said, pointing to the east. “We saw them as we were making our rounds; hundreds of them in the trees to the east, making ladders and God knows what else. They were building and building.”

Stunned, Havilland’s mouth flew open. “And we are just now seeing them?” she asked, exasperated. “Are they so close?”

Cynfric nodded. “They were not there at dawn when we went out,” he told her. “They are about a mile to the east, near the River Banwy. They must have come up the river’s path from the south, using the trees as cover.”

Havilland could feel that familiar sense of fear grip her, the same sense of fear and excitement she experienced every time a Welsh attack was imminent. Now, it comes , she thought grimly.

“Did they see you?” she asked.

The soldier nodded. “They chased us as far as the rise just to the east and then they left off,” he said. “I suppose they wanted us to warn you.”

Havilland looked at Tobias. “Because they have nothing to fear,” she said, apprehension in her voice. “They are building ladders with hundreds of men. You said it was to be a full moon tonight, did you not?”

Tobias was calmer than she was, at least on the outside. “Aye,” he replied. “They know that the mist will not come tonight, either, and they are going to use it to their advantage.”

“Attack when the moon rises?”

“That would be my guess.”

It was a familiar strategy, used by armies for thousands of years.

By the moonlight, the land would be as bright as day and much could be seen.

Havilland had been through this drill many times but she found herself sorely wishing Jamison was here.

The last time the Welsh attacked the walls, he stood on the fighting platforms and threw men back over the walls, pushing down entire ladders all by himself.

He had been a sight to behold in battle.

Aye, they were going to sorely miss him on this night.

In fact, she was starting to feel the least bit panicky about it. She turned back to the soldier.

“Take your mounts back to the stables and tell the grooms what is coming,” she said. “Have them soak the wood and cover the hay. And have them move the horses to the kitchen yard.”

The soldier nodded and was off, running with the rest of his patrol back to the stables to begin helping with the livestock. As the man ran off, Tobias turned to Havilland.

“If you will ensure the keep and hall are secured, I will find Thad and we will secure the walls and the gatehouse,” he said. “I will send Amaline to you when I see her.”

Havilland nodded, turning towards the keep.

It helped keep her panic at bay to think of the tasks that lay ahead of her.

She had to secure her father, the keep, and then move to the hall where there were still a few wounded from the last battle they had faced, men who were slow to recover.

Tonight would see those men joined by many others, freshly wounded fighting off yet another Welsh attack.

She knew this moment would come but she had hoped it wouldn’t come too soon.

If ever they needed help against an attack, tonight would be it.

Fighting down an impending sense of doom, she went about her duties, praying she would live to see the sun rise.

Jamison… where are you?