As footsteps outside grew closer,Flanders moved Brigid behind him before quietly drawing his sword. Robert did the same. There was no room to maneuver, but they prepared just the same.
"We ken ye're in there," taunted a voice from just outside. "Come out, willingly or dead, it matters not. Bring the witch as well."
Flanders froze. That voice. He knew that voice.
"Heslington," he spit.
Brigid clutched his arm. "Who?"
"The steward I banished from Todlaw," he said. "An old snake in a new nest." Now he wished he wouldn't have left the man alive. No doubt he played a part in putting Gerts in the pit.
"Come out now, Flanders Leesborn. Aye, I ken it's ye. I'd recognize those shoulders anywhere, even beneath a peasant's cloak."
Robert cursed under his breath. "Bad luck the bastard ended up here."
"Where else would a rat go but to the Rat Laird?"
Mael dropped to the floor and gave Flanders a nod before crawling beneath the bed. The spy would hide and perhaps live to carry the tale to Todlaw.
"I'm counting to three," Heslington shouted. "Then we shall pile wood over the door and finish the job proper. One..."
Flanders squeezed Brigid's hand. "Stay behind me."
"Two..."
Robert adjusted his grip on his sword, though they all knew using it now would be suicide.
"Thr—"
"We're coming out," Flanders said calmly. He pulled the drape aside and stepped into the light.
Heslington backed away from the steps that led out of the hole, leaving them room. He was flanked by four men. His clothes were no finer than those he’d worn out of Todlaw. Hector Stephan would have never allowed anyone to dress more fine than he.
The triumphant serpent smiled. "Well, well," he said, rubbing his hands together with undisguised glee. "What a pleasant surprise. The mighty Flanders Leesborn, caught like a common thief." His eyes widened when he recognized Robert. "And Young Duncan besides! Laird Stephan will be most pleased. Drop yer weapons and come out of there."
Flanders laid his blade carefully on the ground as if to say I'll be back for it, then he started up the steps with Brigid at his back, Robert behind her. When he finally towered over his former steward, he looked down his nose at the man and smirked. "Ye've fallen far, Heslington. From steward to lackey. Pray tell, does Stephan ken ye’ve slithered under his gate?"
The bastard's smile faltered briefly. "And ye've fallen further, from laird to prisoner." His gaze shifted to Brigid, who stood half-hidden. "And I've caught the witch. A good day for the house of Heslington."
Flanders laughed. "Ye're no house. Ye're half a man. And yer name will die with ye. Right soon, I reckon."
The bastard swallowed with care, knowing full well how lethal his enemy was whether or not he held a weapon. And thusly sobered, he retreated further and gestured to the others. "Take him and the witch to the pit. Put Young Duncan in chains. We'll get a fine ransom from his father. Leesborn can burn with the rest of them."
As the men moved forward, Flanders tensed, calculating their odds. Four against two, but a mob of curious witch hunters were already moving in their direction. Between the two of them, they could dispose of twenty, but there would soon be twice that, and Brigid could get hurt while he was otherwise occupied.
"You there," Heslington called to a man in the mob with a bow on his back. "Nock an arrow and aim it at the woman. If either man resists, kill her."
The bowman did as he was told and circled to the side, so his arrow would have a straight path.
In response to shouting, the mob parted and the laird of Gallabrae marched through the middle. His dark curls now had streaks of gray through them, but his nose hadn’t changed, still looking as if it had been recently injured, smashed to one side, and the swelling had yet to wane.
Two guards hurried to maintain their positions at his shoulders. The man seemed more feeble since Flanders had seen him last. Confused as well? Something was definitely amiss.
"What's this? What's this?" Stephan squinted as he pushed closer. "Flanders, Flanders?" For the merest second, he seemed almost pleased to see him. Had he forgotten they were now bitter enemies? But then he caught sight of Brigid and stopped short. "Ye've found her then? I trust ye'll hand her over."
Heslington slithered toward Stephan, but one of those bodyguards stepped in his path.
"Laird Stephan, I've caught Leesborn and Young Duncan sneaking into the fort to rescue the witch. I've caught them all, ye see."
