chapter eleven

 But the ladders worked better than they could haved hoped for. Within four minutes, Maxwell was in position along the wall where he could see both guard towers, and the other men had cleared the wall and dropped down beside him.

 With the dark leather light armor the blackened nasal helms and the skin darkened with Ash , they blended into the moonless night. Only the whites in f their eyes stood out as they looked to him, waiting for his signal. Scanning the area one more time, he gave it.

 The men spread out, MacBoyd and MacSorley went toward the guardhouse leading up to the curved stairs while Douglas and Campbell headed down the stairs of the lower tower to open the Sally port to the sea , where the rest of their men a force of sixty given the size of the garrison at castell coch—would be waiting.

 Maxwell kept his eyes on the wall ready to let loose the next arrow if necessary, knowing the next few minutes would be the most dangerous. Discovery now would leave the five warriors at their most vulnerable : inside the castle with nowhere to go, surrounded by two towers of sleeping soldiers. Silence was imperative until the towers could be taken, and the gate opened.

 Maxwell's ears pricked at a faint sound . His gaze shot to the second guard tower, where MacBoyd and MacSorley were a few feet from entering. His brethren heard the light clicking sound, too, and froze.

 Maxwell had his arrow ready. He drew it back, poised to let it sail as soon as the first glimpse of the white of a man's eyes emerged from the shadows.

 Tick, tick, tick.

 Damn it, that didn't sound like footsteps. It sounded like a.....

 Dog.

 A moment later , a mangly looking terrier-its head no more than a foot off the ground—trotted out of the shadows towards the two warriors. It had probably been scavenging the castle for rats when bit heard something and decided to come investigate.

 With Maxwell's gaze fixed at the height of an average man, it took him a moment to make the adjustments down. Bloody hell. The thing was so ugly it was almost cute.

 The dog scampered to a sudden stop. It was about a dozen feet from MacSorley and MacBoyd giving Maxwell an easy mark he could shoot it with his eyes closed. But he didn't. He looked at the pathetic excuse of a dog and hesitated.

 The dog seemed to be having second thoughts about approaching the two imposing-looking warriors, proving that it was smarter than it's half-starved, unfortunate appearance suggested. Appearing to lose interest, it started to turn away away, when something flashed in the moonlight.

 The blade from MacBoyd's drawn dagger.

 The dog darted into the shadows of the guardhouse like it had seen a ghost letting out a torrent of terrified yapping behind it.

 God's bones! The dog might be small but in the quiet night air the shrill, high pitched bark might seem like a thunderclap. It had the same effect: disaster.

 Maxwell unfurled the arrow but it was too late because the dog had already gone far into the shadows and the damage had already been done. They might as well have rung a bell inside the towers as soldiers poured out to investigate.

 The quiet sleeping castle had become like a hornet's nest.

 With them caught in the middle.

 He swore, knowing that not only had the dog cost them their chance at surprise—and the chance of the taking the castle—but they were also going to have a a hell of a time getting out of here without been caught.

 But he'd been damned if he let his friends die because of his mistake. Drawing his sword, Maxwell turned to face the onslaught of soldiers who were almost on him and shouted the words that had become feared across Christendom. The battle cry of the king's Guard: "Airson an Leòmhann! "

 For the Lion!

 King Robert sat behind the large table that dominated the small solar off the great Hall of Edinburgh castle and stared blankly at the three warriors.

 Why the hell did Maxwell feel like squirming? Robert wasn't his father the king was only seven years his elder but Maxwell hated to fail at anything, and having to explain it to the Man who was the last person he ever wanted to let down made it more worse. There was no one that believed in him more than Robert the Bruce, and Maxwell would fight to his dying breath to see him as a true king again.

 A claim that could have been much closer of Maxwell hadn't buggered up.

 A damned dog. They'd lost the chance to take one of the most important castles in the Welsh Marches because the best Bowman in the highlands had hesitated to shoot a little flea bitten ratter.

 Elite warriors didn't miss and they sure as hell didn't hesitate. Maxwell was still furious at himself even a week later. Furious, aye, but that wasn't the worst if it. The worse was after he , MacSorley and MacBoyd had slightly—very narrowly—managed to escape the hornet's nest stirred by the damned dog at castell coch, Maxwell had nearly gotten them captured a few days later in the village. Or rather, his damned face had nearly gotten them in captivity.

 The king finally spoke. "We lost our best chance to take back one of the most important castles in the Marches from the Welsh because of a dog? "

 MacSorley winced . "Aye,well it wasn't much of a dog to speak of , but it could have raised the deceased with that bark. "

 "It was a bit of bad luck, that's all, "MacBoyd interjected.

 If Maxwell needed any more proof of how badly he'd erred, the fact that a mean bastard like Luthor MacBoyd was trying to cover for him said it all.

 "I didn't think any of you fell prey to something so human as bad luck? "the king said with a wry turn of his mouth.

 "It wasn't bad luck, "Maxwell corrected. "It was my fault. I hesitated. "

 Robert lifted a brow. "To shoot a dog? "

 Maxwell gritted his teeth , humiliation burning inside him. He was an elite fighter, a warrior, the best of the best—he wasn't supposed to make mistakes like this. Robert was counting on him. But he had, damn it, and it had cost them. He met the king's gaze unflinchingly. "Aye."

 "In his defense, sire, it was kind of a cute little blighter, "MacSorley added with a grin. "And we did find out one thing that is important. "

 "What's that?" the king asked suspiciously, expecting the jest.

 "The rumors are wrong:he doesn't just break hearts , he has one actually. "

 "Sod off, falcon, "Maxwell bit out under his breath. But the blasted seafarer just grinned.

 The king appeared to be doing the same . Maxwell's reputation was well know among woman or rather young lasses throwing themselves at him he had nothing to do about it because he can't just fall in love with them all.

 "And there were no other problems? Campbell and Douglas reported how they managed to hold of the Welsh long enough to open the Sally port gate and eacape. But they feared you might have been trapped trying to go after them"

 "It was nothing we couldn't handle, sire" MacBoyd said.

 Robert hasn't won his crown by been a dimwit or a fool.

 " Yet it took three of you a week for you to return, my seafarer is hobbling, my best marksman can't lift his arms and you're as wrapped up your ribs as tight as a mummy? "

"I didn't say we didn't encounter any problems I just said it wasn't anything we couldn't handle." MacBoyd simply clarified.

 "I think you've been around my sister for too long, you're beginning to sound like a damned lawman!"

 Janice of mars,the sister of Robert's first wife ,was married to Stewart Lamont,and the lads could talk her way out of a shite- storm.

 Maxwell had had enough . The embarrassment of telling the king what had happened couldn't be more painful than listening to these two try to cover it up.

 He stepped forward and gave a brief summary of how they'd go in to rescue Campbell and Douglas, fearing they'd been trapped,and instead become surrounded themselves. They'd managed to fight their way out through about thirty soldiers,but he had taken a blow to the arm with a swords, MacBoyd had broken a few ribs when a hammer connected with his side,an arrow had landed in MacSorley's leg while they were running from the castle. As the other men had been forced to flee, leaving them without a quick means of getting away,with the Welsh swarming and MacSorley's leg gushing blood they'd thought it best to lay low at a safe house in the village until the Welsh gave up their search....