…
“Tha sinn a ‘dol a bhàsachadh!” Greer cried.
Before Juliana could ask what that meant—she wasn’t sure she wanted to know—Aileen shook her head.
“We are nae going to die.”
Her sister stared at her. “Are ye aneejit? Nae a soul kens we are up here! And we nae have shawls!”
Aileen tightened her mouth, and Juliana quickly spoke. “We can yell. Surely someone will hear us.”
Greer shook her head. “We doona keep guards posted these days, so there is nae one on the battlements. And with the snow, nae one will venture out unless they have to.”
“But surely someone can hear us!” Juliana repeated.
“Even if someone were out, with the wind blowing, ’tis nae likely,” Aileen said.
Juliana didn’t like the grim look on their faces. “But what about inside? If we stand at the door and all of us shout at once, will it not be heard inside?”
“Ye may nae have noticed, but the door to the tower is a good foot thick so raiders couldna break it down. And,” Greer added, “we are six stories up.”
“But…” Juliana hated feeling helpless. “There must be something we can do.”
Aileen straightened her shoulders. “We will think on it. Meanwhile, let us get out of the wind and huddle together like we did on the boat.”
Except there they’d had a wool blanket or whatever they called it. Still, Juliana didn’t argue as Aileen led the way around the corner of the tower and away from the wind. It did feel incrementally warmer without its biting force. Or maybe her mind was only wishing it so. She looked at the handle she still held.
“Why did this come loose in the first place?”
Both sisters stared at it, and Greer shook her head. “I doona ken.”
Aileen took the handle from Juliana and examined the broken end. “’Tis corroded.”
Greer ran a finger along the rough edges. “Hardly anyone ever comes up here, so who kens when it was last looked at.”
“I thought you said you liked the view from here,” Juliana said. “Would you not have noticed rust or something?”
“We only come up here when the weather is warm, and then we just prop the door open.” Greer pointed to a large rock that looked like it could be rolled. “With that.”
“Which we should have done this time,” Aileen said.
Juliana shook her head. “I should not have suggested it in the first place.”
“’Tis nae your fault,” Greer replied.
“That doesna matter now.” Aileen stepped toward the door and tried to fit the broken end of the knob back into the door. “Mayhap if I can get this to hold…” She pushed the broken end in as far as she could and twisted it, but it didn’t catch.
Greer muttered something else in Gaelic under her breath, and Juliana didn’t even ask what it meant. It was better she didn’t understand the language. No matter what they said, she still felt this was entirely her fault. Then she remembered the knife.
“Wait! How about this?” She lifted her skirt and pulled out the stolen knife from her boot. She’d felt a little silly putting it there, but Rory had said it was always good to be armed. She held it up now. “Could this work?”
“Aye!” Aileen grabbed it and attempted to slide it between the door and the frame. It barely slipped between the door and frame because of the tight fit, but at last she got part of it in. “Now, all I have to do is wiggle it and maybe I can get the latch pushed back…” She concentrated on her effort. “I think I can feel it moving…”
Juliana moved beside her and managed to stick two fingertips into the opening where the knob had broken. “If you feel the latch give way, I’ll try and pull the door open.”
Aileen nodded and maneuvered the knife. “Just a little more… I think I have it…”
And then there was a loud snap as the knife’s handle broke off. For a long moment all three of them stared at it.
