Flanders took a step, but Robert pulled him back. “Now that we ken where the women are, what will we do? Damn me, if the sun isn’t about to come out. In full daylight, we will need a plan.”
Flanders smirked. “I already have a plan to get Gerts and the others out of the pit.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Kill Stephan. In the chaos that follows, ye free the rest.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “Aye, nice plan. Just not terribly diplomatic. And difficult to accomplish if we’re thrown in the pit as well.”
“Ye can dress the witch’s sister in my clothes,” Mael suggested. “They’ve let us in the gates. No reason not to let the three of us out again.”
Flanders looked at the spy with new respect. “Ye would do that? Stay behind? Ye’d likely be killed if any suspect ye.”
He shrugged. “Mayhap I can slip out the gates when the hunters return—dressed as a woman.”
Robert shook his head firmly. “They’re hunting a woman, remember? No female will pass those gates without showing her face.”
Mael nodded, but he didn’t give up. “As a man then. After dark. I’ll slip out somehow. I’ll see ye at Todlaw on the morrow.”
Flanders shook his head. “Won’t work. If the three of us get out, that leaves those in the pit. The two of ye take Bella out, in breeches, and once ye’re away, I’ll remove the Rat.”
“And fight yer way out? Through hundreds? On yer own?” Robert’s look said clearly what he thought of that idea. “There is another way. We must find it.”
“Fine. But let’s find Bella first.”
Flanders struck out for the muds and left the other two to come along or not. But if someone else found the woman while they sat havering about it, he’d never forgive himself. At least he would accomplish something.
As he drew near the dwelling on the end, he saw that the walkway above did cover the front of the dugout, but depending on the bent of the rain, it wouldn’t keep the place dry in all instances. Case in point, the steps leading down into it were covered in straw and wet mud, and he had to pick his way carefully else land on his arse.
Luckily, there were no guards nearby, so none stopped him.
The structure was much more impressive on close inspection. The wattle and daub walls were two layers thick and well hardened. He knew because he knocked his knuckles on one of them to warn the witch she was about to receive company. His friends joined him and the three of them stepped inside the dark maw.
He considered, too late, that someone might attack from within. But it mattered not at all, since the place was empty.
A single room. Two raised pallets. No one hiding beneath. There was a wee table and an alcove for a fire with a small mud chimney that ran up the wall. Belongings were kept to a pair of boxes. And a wool blanket was pulled to the side of the entrance in place of a door. A bucket and scoop sat beside it, perhaps for bailing out the rain. Nothing more. Nowhere to hide.
“She’s gone,” Mael whispered.
“Maybe not.” Robert turned for the doorway. “Tell me, what are the chances wee Moira kens her right from her left?”
11
WHERE HOPE HIDES
* * *
The row ofmudsstretched along the palisade like a line of orderly beasts with their mouths open, waiting to be fed. Flanders counted as they moved, wishing they could run. Fifteen or more to go before the last on the left…when facing north.
"Bloody hell," Robert muttered. "There must be twenty of these."
"Twenty-four," Mael corrected, his eyes darting nervously toward the center of the fort where men were gathering. It seemed the men of Gallabrae were giving up on the hunt. Soon the place would be brimming with the enemy.
A woman with a heavy basket approached from the opposite direction. Her eyes narrowed. Flanders turned his face away.
"Good day to ye, mistress," Robert said, his tone warm and friendly. “Seen a witch about?”
The woman shook her head and hurried on.
