'Once upon a time on a green, green island' - Part Four
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
From part three:
The two knights stepped onto the small boat that would take them to the larger ship anchored at sea. As the boat was being pushed into the waves, Harmon turned and, with a smile, brought his right hand to his heart, his lips and his temple, afterwards bowing with his fist on his left shoulder.
As Aine and Clayton watched Sarah smile back, her right hand touching her temple, her lips and her chest and subsequently holding her hand out towards him, they instantly decided that they didn't really need to know the deeper meaning of the gestures.
Aine and Sarah were watching in silence as the little boat disappeared, lost in thoughts until suddenly they became aware of Father Chegwidden rushing up to them, a frightening pallor on his face.
"What is it, father?" Sarah asked, concerned.
The priest very earnestly looked at them. "Ladies, we have no home to return to. Baron O'Hara's castle is right now under siege by the larger part of Lord Palmer's army."
Part Four: (The fairy tale continues...)
The threesome rode day and night until their horses nearly collapsed under them. It was a lucky circumstance that they had Harmon and Clayton's horses with them. They could at least relieve the animals from carrying their weight from time to time. On the following day, as the sun began to sink, they were nearing the O'Hara castle. Carefully they left the path and entered the dark woodland on the hills overlooking the river Barrow. When they found a small clearing with a well between two steep slopes, they finally decided to rest.
Father Chegwidden immediately attended to the horses, wiping their backs with dried leaves as he had no straws. Aine built a little fire and began preparing a meal, thankful for the many alms Harmon and Sarah had collected in the intent of passing them on to Father Chegwidden's monastery. Now, the situation being as it was, they might turn out to be vital to their survival.
Sarah climbed up the slope and searched for a viewing point to get a clear picture of the situation. When she had reached the top she luckily found it devoid of trees and providing a decent overview of the valley and all activities in it.
The first thing she understood was that the siege ring was impenetrable, from the outside as well as from inside the castle. Palmer must have brought at least five hundred men with him. And his army was very heavily armed. They had three catapults and a lot of ammunition for them.
The second revelation that hit her was that the situation inside the castle must slowly become desperate. All the wells were outside the siege ring. She had no idea how much water was stored inside the castle walls. What if they ran short?
But there was nothing to be done. Surrender was not an option, she knew and supported that. All of her family, and most of their faithful servants as well, would rather die than turn their home over to a tyrant. There was little activity to be seen in the soldiers' camps. It seemed that Palmer was content to sit and wait until Baron Matthew was forced to crawl on his hands and knees. Sarah prayed that her people would last until Harmon and Clayton brought back the royal army. At least she knew that word of the siege would have spread throughout the land by the time they arrived.
Sighing deeply and consumed with worry, Sarah turned to make her way back down the slope. Just before sitting down in order to safely slide down the hill instead of taking the risk of falling, she stepped onto something hard and sharp with her bare foot. Looking down in the quickly fading daylight, she became aware of a square stone slab that was half hidden by the high herbs. Silently swearing, she examined her foot that luckily did not show any injuries and resolved to return to the spot the next day when there would be more light to examine what exactly she had stepped upon.
In the meantime Aine had prepared their supper and she, Sarah and Father Chegwidden tried to make themselves comfortable around the fire that they kept low to avoid being seen. "So what did you find out, Sarah?" Aine asked.
Sarah told them what she had seen. "I am really worried about their water supplies," she added, her voice strained. "If only we could find a way to get to them without being noticed. Then we could lead Palmer on until the royal troops arrive!"
"Do you know your bible, Sarah?" Father Chegwidden asked calmly.
"Of course I do, father. Where are you headed with this question if I may ask?"
"The siege of Jerusalem." He said no more than that.
After a few minutes, Aine understood what he was suggesting. "They had a hidden well! That's why they could not take the city until they found out! But..." she sobered. "We do not have one. So where is the point thinking about it?"
"True," Father Chegwidden acknowledged, sighing. "But I know there used to be some hidden entrance to the dungeons, far away from the castle. Only that it has been three generations now that anybody knew of its location. But if we were to find it..."
"...we could supply them with everything they need," Sarah took up his speech. And suddenly she had a suspicion. "I think our constant prayers may have worked a miracle," she continued excitedly. "Up on the hill I came across something that, in hindsight, might indeed be some sort of an entrance to something! Sure, we are quite a bit away from the castle, but that's the point about hiding the entrance to a secret passage, isn't it?"
For the first time in her life, Sarah detected something like happy excitement on the friar's face. "My goodness, Sarah, that must have been real guidance from above! I suggest we go to sleep now and check it out early tomorrow morning." The ladies heartily agreed.
As she settled down to sleep, Sarah finally allowed her thoughts to wander. 'I hope you are safe, Harmon,' she inwardly sighed, longing to see him, to feel his presence, to have his kind eyes scrutinize her expression like they often did. 'When this is over I shall never again leave your side,' she silently vowed. 'My mind, my voice and my heart...' were her final thoughts when she drifted off to sleep.
In the shelter of a dark, moonless night, a dozen ships, each carrying about a hundred trained soldiers, were silently crossing the Irish Sea. Harmon and Clayton stood at the bowsprit of King Edward's flagship, closely observing their pilot's instructions and passing them on to the helmsman. Ever since they had met with Robinson, Harmon had been sick with worry for his love. Having heard of the siege, he - and Clayton, too, albeit secretly - had been praying that the ladies and the priest had gotten home safely and had managed to stay outside the castle.
Harmon's whole demeanor had changed with the arrival of the news. Normally, he was known by his men as a fearless warrior with an incredible readiness of mind and coolness of temper. He would be the one man never to lose his head in a desperate situation. But now, he was pacing up and down with an ashen face, fidgeting with his hands and over and over checking the hourglass. It wasn't long until rumors were spreading that a woman might be involved. Had the situation not been so deadly earnest, Harmon would have met with quite a few smirking faces.
Hearing footsteps behind them, Harmon and Clayton turned to find their king standing before them. They instantly bowed. "Sire..."
"Rise, my friends." King Edward kindly smiled at his young knights. "How much further?"
"Approximately a hundred yards until we can bring down the tenders, sire," Clayton answered, motioning for the sailor on signaling duty.
"Proceed. Umm... Sir Harmon?" he turned to the tall, dark-haired man he had come to like very much during the last few years that Harmon had been serving in his army.
"Sire?"
The king took a few steps away from the bowsprit. Harmon followed immediately as was expected of him. "You puzzle me, Sir Harmon," the king began.
"How so, sire?" Harmon's glance was suddenly guarded.
"I've never seen you in a state of mind as this," the king went on, eyeing him thoroughly.
"I apologize, sire. I shall focus on the mission."
King Edward smiled knowingly. "What is your mission, Sir Harmon?"
Harmon warily pondered his reply. 'Sarah!' was the first thing that came to his mind. "Leinster, Your Majesty," he said instead.
"Are you sure?"
"Umm... I..." Harmon was at a loss what to answer. He desperately sought for words but didn't come up with anything that made sense. The king spared him an answer, though.
"I was wondering what could be the reason for your odd behavior, Sir Harmon. I was lost as to the cause until I realized it did not start until we met with the pilot. So, seeing that Mr. Robinson chose to stay on this ship and let his brother do the piloting, I asked if he knew something. I guess I have a clue now."
Harmon gulped, still not knowing what to say but dreading the outcome of the situation. The king would surely consider him unfit for command if he were this easily shaken. He jumped when he heard the king go on.
"As you said, try to focus on the mission. But, generally speaking, you know my opinion of single men at your age. And the Lord of Leinster does need a wife. So she is Scottish, is she?" he asked.
Harmon studied his feet, appreciating that in the darkness the king would not see him blush. Then, knowing he had to look at his sovereign when addressing him, he forced himself to meet his glance and nodded. "She is, sire."
"Please, enlighten me a little about her, Sir Harmon. You know I need to approve your choice."
Taking a deep breath, Harmon carefully weighed his choice of words. Now the matter was getting irreversibly serious. "She is a widow, sire, of Scottish and Irish blood. She has no living children, though. Her mother's family are the Barons O'Hara, trusted counselors of the Marshall family for centuries. Her father's family is the clan of Mackenzie. She grew up in Scotland and was married to Lord Christopher Ragle. I know he fought against your troops with Wallace, but I doubt one could deduce from that any adversity regarding the crown on Sarah's side."
The last sentence came out in a worried rush. The king suppressed a smile at his knight's eagerness to defend the one he had come to love. 'I am curious to know the one woman that could produce an effect as this on his heart,' he thought. "I am sure you cannot, Sir Harmon," he tried to reassure the younger man. "And now I understand your behavior. I assume you would like to assemble a vanguard and head to Baron O'Hara's assistance on horseback rather than leading the army on foot?"
Harmon cast his king a grateful smile and got down on one knee. "I am infinitely indebted to Your Majesty."
King Edward now let his smile break through. "Rise, my faithful servant. Go and assemble your men."
'My heart, my voice and my mind...' Harmon kept thinking as he rushed to speak with his most faithful friends.
Dawn was crawling up the horizon when Sarah, Aine and Father Chegwidden started to carefully climb the slope. They had hidden their horses and belongings a little farther off in the thicket, just in case anyone came across the clearing. They had taken nothing but a small water barrel each, tied to their backs, in case they might indeed be able to get to the castle, and a single torch.
When they reached the hilltop, the sun was rising and Sarah was able to look around and quickly find the stone slab she had stumbled over the previous night. It was large and heavy, but in three, they eventually managed to shove it away. Holding their breath, they gaped at a square black opening that went down vertically for about three yards. From there - as far as they could make out - a slightly descending passage opened up in the direction of the castle.
Father Chegwidden looked at Aine who, being the shortest, would go in first. "Are you sure about this, Miss O'Meara?"
"I am."
"Then off you go." He took a firm hold on her arms as he helped her get down. Then, upon her nod, he let go of her and she dropped to the ground.
"I am safe. Please, father, hand me the torch."
He did so and climbed down himself, then stretching out his arms to help Sarah down. They entered the passageway, with Aine taking the lead, always critically observing the torch. Should it begin to flicker, they would have to get out or they might run short of oxygen.
They walked for what seemed like ages, ever slightly descending, never changing direction. Luckily, whoever had built the passage, had been so careful as to cover its walls and ceiling with stones. So the centuries had done little damage to them. After, relying on Sarah's calculation, about two hours of silent walking, they excitedly looked at each other as they had indeed arrived in front of a heavy door, shaped exactly like the ones inside the O'Haras's castle. It struck Sarah as odd that a hidden passage would end to an ordinary door. But they would soon know where they would emerge.
Pushing, they were amazed how much force they had to apply to make the door move. Hearing a cruel noise of heavy stone scraping on heavy stone, they finally managed to push it ajar - only to look into the horrified stare of Lady Mary O'Hara.
"Sarah!" she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, frozen in place.
"Aunt Mary!" Sarah cried, relieved, running over to her and hugging her fiercely. Only now did she notice where they were: in the family's crypt, accessible only through a little door at the back of the altar in the castle's chapel. And the door to the passage from this side was covered with the memorial of none other than Patrick O'Hara, the first to bear the baron's title. It didn't surprise Sarah that he had obviously covered the entrance to the secret passage, living in times of trouble. Kind of ironic, though, to cover a door with one's very own grave...
Mary O'Hara found solace in the absolute quiet of the family's crypt, especially in times of trouble like these. Now she stared at her niece, her steward's daughter and the friar as if they were ghosts haunting her piece of mind. "How? What? But... I thought..."
"Milady, we found the secret passage everyone always suspected existed," Father Chegwidden explained calmly, his 'priest' tone instantly comforting the frightened woman. "We brought water."
"Thank you, Lord!" Mary broke out, sinking to her knees and starting to sob with relief. Sarah instantly knelt down and comfortingly rocked her aunt in her embrace until she quieted.
"We will be safer if we stay in the woods," said Aine. "Milady, I suggest we leave the water here for now, go back and tonight come back with further supplies for you. We will just leave them here and never come in. It's vital that no one suspects we're here. Would you..." she swallowed, "Would you give my love to my family, please?"
Mary had by now somewhat regained her usual composure. "Of course, my dear. I will speak of you only to Matthew, your parents, Bud, Harriet and Chloe. No one else will know you're near. We shall find a way to gradually stock up our supplies so that no one really notices they don't diminish as fast as they should. Do you have news about the king's troops?"
"If everything went well, Sir Harmon and Sir Clayton should be headed this way and back on Irish soil by now," Sarah explained. "It won't be long now that Palmer learns of their arrival. So be prepared. They might attack. You just have to stand your ground until the soldiers arrive. I think we'll have to hang on for three more days."
"I understand. Now hurry, my dear, see that you get back into the safety of the woods," Mary gently shooed her off.
Sarah kissed her aunt on the cheek, turned and, together with Aine and Father Chegwidden, disappeared into the dark tunnel. A moment later, the grave slab slowly moved until it fit into place.
They returned twice to the castle, usually carrying water. The first time they had returned, they had been greeted by a happily crying Harriet, and half a dozen small barrels standing beside her. And she had brought clothes and shoes for Sarah and Aine. Each of the three visitors took back two barrels. The empty barrels were easy to carry, and three of the barrels were returned to the castle that morning, filled with water from the well near their hiding place.
It was near noon when the threesome finally emerged from the passage, gladly taking deep breaths of fresh air. Father Chegwidden's expression was so comically relieved once he let out his first deep breath of woodland air, that a hearty laugh escaped Sarah's lips. The threesome didn't notice that four men were standing at the far end of the hilltop, half hidden by a couple of bushes that were growing on the spot, silently watching their every move.
Harmon only took five additional men with him. The fewer they were the quicker they would get to the castle. They couldn't outnumber Palmer's army anyway, so a few truly reliable friends would be of more use than a small squadron of soldiers. Besides Clayton, Harmon had convinced four more knights to accompany him. They were their round table's companions Sir Magnus McDermott and Sir Tobias Cullum, and their two closest friends, Sir John "Jack" Keeter and Sir Sturgis Turner, probably the only black man to serve in the king's whole army. He had originally been a prisoner, brought home from a crusade to the Holy Land. But on the way back he had been so lucky as to save the king's life. So, the Moor had been released and had earned himself the king's and his knights' trust with his calm reasoning. When he, later on, decided to convert himself to be a Christian, an old knight, Sir Walter Turner, had gladly volunteered to be his godfather and had even passed his name on to him.
The six men rode all day and night and half of the next day until Harmon and Clayton believed them to be near the O'Hara castle. They left the road and entered the woods.
Harmon was by now half-dead with fear of what he would find once they arrived. He dreaded the moment but, on the other hand, he needed to know the exact situation. So he had insisted they leave the horses with Magnus and Tobias. The other four of them would go look for a viewing point. Jack had pointed out a hilltop not too far away and they had immediately set off.
Upon reaching the top, they had stopped dead in their tracks, as on the far side of the little meadow that graced the hill, a cloaked figure suddenly seemed to emerge from the earth. Under his or her cloak the person seemed to carry something. Quietly motioning for his friends to stay behind the nearby bushes, Harmon observed as a second person appeared on stage, then a third, a rather short one.
The three people seemed unaware they were being watched. Suddenly, totally unexpected to him, Harmon's ears caught something that he would never have expected to hear right now: the merry laugh of Lady Sarah Mackenzie. Forgetting all his caution over the tremendous relief to see her safe and free, Harmon rushed out of their hideout.
"Sarah!"
Sarah's heart skipped a beat. She spun around, gasped as she saw Harmon standing on the meadow, dropped her cloak and luggage and, not caring if anyone might find her behavior unbecoming a mourning noblewoman, rushed over to him and threw herself into his open arms.
"Harmon..."
"When I heard the news I thought I'd be too late..." he whispered.
"And I was constantly praying that your landing plans would work..." she replied softly.
He held her tight, overwhelmed to feel her so close. For several minutes they just stood there, holding onto each other, the other five tactfully waiting until they parted.
"How far away is the army?" Sarah instantly asked.
"They should be here in two days. How's the situation?" His kind eyes skimmed her face.
"They ran short of water, but luckily I literally stumbled over the entrance to a long forgotten secret passage that leads to the castle's crypt. We've been supplying them ever since we found it. Nice of you to join us. Now you can give us a hand, and more importantly, you brought some unknown faces with you who can unobtrusively get solid supplies from the marketplace."
Harmon motioned for his friends to come over as did Sarah. Clayton greeted them warmly, especially Aine, Harmon noted with a hidden smile. Then he introduced all of them to Sir John and Sir Sturgis. Together, they immediately went to join Magnus and Tobias and set up a joint camp between the two slopes. Magnus, John and Tobias took turns going to buy food, while the others would continuously walk up and down the passage supplying the castle. They took turns on night watches and sleeping hours as well. Harmon and Sarah by a general silent agreement always walked together, and no one would do anything but smile when they saw them sleeping, Harmon's arms protectively wrapped around his love.
Keeping up a steady routine, they could do nothing but wait until the royal troops arrived. On the evening before the royal army was due, Harmon, stepping out of the passageway, detected movement in Palmer's camps. Obviously they were preparing for a night attack. And they were doing it fast, he judged after having watched them for several minutes. Still, all the preparations took place at the far side of the camp that was difficult to overlook from the castle.
Looking at Sarah and seeing her nod slowly, they were well aware of the risk they were taking when they just put down the empty barrels they were carrying and reentered the passageway. They had to warn the castle's inhabitants. And they had to stand up at their side. They were Sarah's family - and probably Harmon's family-to-be. Running as fast as they could, the pair headed back towards the castle.
The battle was about to begin.
To be continued... (Feedback always appreciated!)
From part three:
The two knights stepped onto the small boat that would take them to the larger ship anchored at sea. As the boat was being pushed into the waves, Harmon turned and, with a smile, brought his right hand to his heart, his lips and his temple, afterwards bowing with his fist on his left shoulder.
As Aine and Clayton watched Sarah smile back, her right hand touching her temple, her lips and her chest and subsequently holding her hand out towards him, they instantly decided that they didn't really need to know the deeper meaning of the gestures.
Aine and Sarah were watching in silence as the little boat disappeared, lost in thoughts until suddenly they became aware of Father Chegwidden rushing up to them, a frightening pallor on his face.
"What is it, father?" Sarah asked, concerned.
The priest very earnestly looked at them. "Ladies, we have no home to return to. Baron O'Hara's castle is right now under siege by the larger part of Lord Palmer's army."
Part Four: (The fairy tale continues...)
The threesome rode day and night until their horses nearly collapsed under them. It was a lucky circumstance that they had Harmon and Clayton's horses with them. They could at least relieve the animals from carrying their weight from time to time. On the following day, as the sun began to sink, they were nearing the O'Hara castle. Carefully they left the path and entered the dark woodland on the hills overlooking the river Barrow. When they found a small clearing with a well between two steep slopes, they finally decided to rest.
Father Chegwidden immediately attended to the horses, wiping their backs with dried leaves as he had no straws. Aine built a little fire and began preparing a meal, thankful for the many alms Harmon and Sarah had collected in the intent of passing them on to Father Chegwidden's monastery. Now, the situation being as it was, they might turn out to be vital to their survival.
Sarah climbed up the slope and searched for a viewing point to get a clear picture of the situation. When she had reached the top she luckily found it devoid of trees and providing a decent overview of the valley and all activities in it.
The first thing she understood was that the siege ring was impenetrable, from the outside as well as from inside the castle. Palmer must have brought at least five hundred men with him. And his army was very heavily armed. They had three catapults and a lot of ammunition for them.
The second revelation that hit her was that the situation inside the castle must slowly become desperate. All the wells were outside the siege ring. She had no idea how much water was stored inside the castle walls. What if they ran short?
But there was nothing to be done. Surrender was not an option, she knew and supported that. All of her family, and most of their faithful servants as well, would rather die than turn their home over to a tyrant. There was little activity to be seen in the soldiers' camps. It seemed that Palmer was content to sit and wait until Baron Matthew was forced to crawl on his hands and knees. Sarah prayed that her people would last until Harmon and Clayton brought back the royal army. At least she knew that word of the siege would have spread throughout the land by the time they arrived.
Sighing deeply and consumed with worry, Sarah turned to make her way back down the slope. Just before sitting down in order to safely slide down the hill instead of taking the risk of falling, she stepped onto something hard and sharp with her bare foot. Looking down in the quickly fading daylight, she became aware of a square stone slab that was half hidden by the high herbs. Silently swearing, she examined her foot that luckily did not show any injuries and resolved to return to the spot the next day when there would be more light to examine what exactly she had stepped upon.
In the meantime Aine had prepared their supper and she, Sarah and Father Chegwidden tried to make themselves comfortable around the fire that they kept low to avoid being seen. "So what did you find out, Sarah?" Aine asked.
Sarah told them what she had seen. "I am really worried about their water supplies," she added, her voice strained. "If only we could find a way to get to them without being noticed. Then we could lead Palmer on until the royal troops arrive!"
"Do you know your bible, Sarah?" Father Chegwidden asked calmly.
"Of course I do, father. Where are you headed with this question if I may ask?"
"The siege of Jerusalem." He said no more than that.
After a few minutes, Aine understood what he was suggesting. "They had a hidden well! That's why they could not take the city until they found out! But..." she sobered. "We do not have one. So where is the point thinking about it?"
"True," Father Chegwidden acknowledged, sighing. "But I know there used to be some hidden entrance to the dungeons, far away from the castle. Only that it has been three generations now that anybody knew of its location. But if we were to find it..."
"...we could supply them with everything they need," Sarah took up his speech. And suddenly she had a suspicion. "I think our constant prayers may have worked a miracle," she continued excitedly. "Up on the hill I came across something that, in hindsight, might indeed be some sort of an entrance to something! Sure, we are quite a bit away from the castle, but that's the point about hiding the entrance to a secret passage, isn't it?"
For the first time in her life, Sarah detected something like happy excitement on the friar's face. "My goodness, Sarah, that must have been real guidance from above! I suggest we go to sleep now and check it out early tomorrow morning." The ladies heartily agreed.
As she settled down to sleep, Sarah finally allowed her thoughts to wander. 'I hope you are safe, Harmon,' she inwardly sighed, longing to see him, to feel his presence, to have his kind eyes scrutinize her expression like they often did. 'When this is over I shall never again leave your side,' she silently vowed. 'My mind, my voice and my heart...' were her final thoughts when she drifted off to sleep.
In the shelter of a dark, moonless night, a dozen ships, each carrying about a hundred trained soldiers, were silently crossing the Irish Sea. Harmon and Clayton stood at the bowsprit of King Edward's flagship, closely observing their pilot's instructions and passing them on to the helmsman. Ever since they had met with Robinson, Harmon had been sick with worry for his love. Having heard of the siege, he - and Clayton, too, albeit secretly - had been praying that the ladies and the priest had gotten home safely and had managed to stay outside the castle.
Harmon's whole demeanor had changed with the arrival of the news. Normally, he was known by his men as a fearless warrior with an incredible readiness of mind and coolness of temper. He would be the one man never to lose his head in a desperate situation. But now, he was pacing up and down with an ashen face, fidgeting with his hands and over and over checking the hourglass. It wasn't long until rumors were spreading that a woman might be involved. Had the situation not been so deadly earnest, Harmon would have met with quite a few smirking faces.
Hearing footsteps behind them, Harmon and Clayton turned to find their king standing before them. They instantly bowed. "Sire..."
"Rise, my friends." King Edward kindly smiled at his young knights. "How much further?"
"Approximately a hundred yards until we can bring down the tenders, sire," Clayton answered, motioning for the sailor on signaling duty.
"Proceed. Umm... Sir Harmon?" he turned to the tall, dark-haired man he had come to like very much during the last few years that Harmon had been serving in his army.
"Sire?"
The king took a few steps away from the bowsprit. Harmon followed immediately as was expected of him. "You puzzle me, Sir Harmon," the king began.
"How so, sire?" Harmon's glance was suddenly guarded.
"I've never seen you in a state of mind as this," the king went on, eyeing him thoroughly.
"I apologize, sire. I shall focus on the mission."
King Edward smiled knowingly. "What is your mission, Sir Harmon?"
Harmon warily pondered his reply. 'Sarah!' was the first thing that came to his mind. "Leinster, Your Majesty," he said instead.
"Are you sure?"
"Umm... I..." Harmon was at a loss what to answer. He desperately sought for words but didn't come up with anything that made sense. The king spared him an answer, though.
"I was wondering what could be the reason for your odd behavior, Sir Harmon. I was lost as to the cause until I realized it did not start until we met with the pilot. So, seeing that Mr. Robinson chose to stay on this ship and let his brother do the piloting, I asked if he knew something. I guess I have a clue now."
Harmon gulped, still not knowing what to say but dreading the outcome of the situation. The king would surely consider him unfit for command if he were this easily shaken. He jumped when he heard the king go on.
"As you said, try to focus on the mission. But, generally speaking, you know my opinion of single men at your age. And the Lord of Leinster does need a wife. So she is Scottish, is she?" he asked.
Harmon studied his feet, appreciating that in the darkness the king would not see him blush. Then, knowing he had to look at his sovereign when addressing him, he forced himself to meet his glance and nodded. "She is, sire."
"Please, enlighten me a little about her, Sir Harmon. You know I need to approve your choice."
Taking a deep breath, Harmon carefully weighed his choice of words. Now the matter was getting irreversibly serious. "She is a widow, sire, of Scottish and Irish blood. She has no living children, though. Her mother's family are the Barons O'Hara, trusted counselors of the Marshall family for centuries. Her father's family is the clan of Mackenzie. She grew up in Scotland and was married to Lord Christopher Ragle. I know he fought against your troops with Wallace, but I doubt one could deduce from that any adversity regarding the crown on Sarah's side."
The last sentence came out in a worried rush. The king suppressed a smile at his knight's eagerness to defend the one he had come to love. 'I am curious to know the one woman that could produce an effect as this on his heart,' he thought. "I am sure you cannot, Sir Harmon," he tried to reassure the younger man. "And now I understand your behavior. I assume you would like to assemble a vanguard and head to Baron O'Hara's assistance on horseback rather than leading the army on foot?"
Harmon cast his king a grateful smile and got down on one knee. "I am infinitely indebted to Your Majesty."
King Edward now let his smile break through. "Rise, my faithful servant. Go and assemble your men."
'My heart, my voice and my mind...' Harmon kept thinking as he rushed to speak with his most faithful friends.
Dawn was crawling up the horizon when Sarah, Aine and Father Chegwidden started to carefully climb the slope. They had hidden their horses and belongings a little farther off in the thicket, just in case anyone came across the clearing. They had taken nothing but a small water barrel each, tied to their backs, in case they might indeed be able to get to the castle, and a single torch.
When they reached the hilltop, the sun was rising and Sarah was able to look around and quickly find the stone slab she had stumbled over the previous night. It was large and heavy, but in three, they eventually managed to shove it away. Holding their breath, they gaped at a square black opening that went down vertically for about three yards. From there - as far as they could make out - a slightly descending passage opened up in the direction of the castle.
Father Chegwidden looked at Aine who, being the shortest, would go in first. "Are you sure about this, Miss O'Meara?"
"I am."
"Then off you go." He took a firm hold on her arms as he helped her get down. Then, upon her nod, he let go of her and she dropped to the ground.
"I am safe. Please, father, hand me the torch."
He did so and climbed down himself, then stretching out his arms to help Sarah down. They entered the passageway, with Aine taking the lead, always critically observing the torch. Should it begin to flicker, they would have to get out or they might run short of oxygen.
They walked for what seemed like ages, ever slightly descending, never changing direction. Luckily, whoever had built the passage, had been so careful as to cover its walls and ceiling with stones. So the centuries had done little damage to them. After, relying on Sarah's calculation, about two hours of silent walking, they excitedly looked at each other as they had indeed arrived in front of a heavy door, shaped exactly like the ones inside the O'Haras's castle. It struck Sarah as odd that a hidden passage would end to an ordinary door. But they would soon know where they would emerge.
Pushing, they were amazed how much force they had to apply to make the door move. Hearing a cruel noise of heavy stone scraping on heavy stone, they finally managed to push it ajar - only to look into the horrified stare of Lady Mary O'Hara.
"Sarah!" she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, frozen in place.
"Aunt Mary!" Sarah cried, relieved, running over to her and hugging her fiercely. Only now did she notice where they were: in the family's crypt, accessible only through a little door at the back of the altar in the castle's chapel. And the door to the passage from this side was covered with the memorial of none other than Patrick O'Hara, the first to bear the baron's title. It didn't surprise Sarah that he had obviously covered the entrance to the secret passage, living in times of trouble. Kind of ironic, though, to cover a door with one's very own grave...
Mary O'Hara found solace in the absolute quiet of the family's crypt, especially in times of trouble like these. Now she stared at her niece, her steward's daughter and the friar as if they were ghosts haunting her piece of mind. "How? What? But... I thought..."
"Milady, we found the secret passage everyone always suspected existed," Father Chegwidden explained calmly, his 'priest' tone instantly comforting the frightened woman. "We brought water."
"Thank you, Lord!" Mary broke out, sinking to her knees and starting to sob with relief. Sarah instantly knelt down and comfortingly rocked her aunt in her embrace until she quieted.
"We will be safer if we stay in the woods," said Aine. "Milady, I suggest we leave the water here for now, go back and tonight come back with further supplies for you. We will just leave them here and never come in. It's vital that no one suspects we're here. Would you..." she swallowed, "Would you give my love to my family, please?"
Mary had by now somewhat regained her usual composure. "Of course, my dear. I will speak of you only to Matthew, your parents, Bud, Harriet and Chloe. No one else will know you're near. We shall find a way to gradually stock up our supplies so that no one really notices they don't diminish as fast as they should. Do you have news about the king's troops?"
"If everything went well, Sir Harmon and Sir Clayton should be headed this way and back on Irish soil by now," Sarah explained. "It won't be long now that Palmer learns of their arrival. So be prepared. They might attack. You just have to stand your ground until the soldiers arrive. I think we'll have to hang on for three more days."
"I understand. Now hurry, my dear, see that you get back into the safety of the woods," Mary gently shooed her off.
Sarah kissed her aunt on the cheek, turned and, together with Aine and Father Chegwidden, disappeared into the dark tunnel. A moment later, the grave slab slowly moved until it fit into place.
They returned twice to the castle, usually carrying water. The first time they had returned, they had been greeted by a happily crying Harriet, and half a dozen small barrels standing beside her. And she had brought clothes and shoes for Sarah and Aine. Each of the three visitors took back two barrels. The empty barrels were easy to carry, and three of the barrels were returned to the castle that morning, filled with water from the well near their hiding place.
It was near noon when the threesome finally emerged from the passage, gladly taking deep breaths of fresh air. Father Chegwidden's expression was so comically relieved once he let out his first deep breath of woodland air, that a hearty laugh escaped Sarah's lips. The threesome didn't notice that four men were standing at the far end of the hilltop, half hidden by a couple of bushes that were growing on the spot, silently watching their every move.
Harmon only took five additional men with him. The fewer they were the quicker they would get to the castle. They couldn't outnumber Palmer's army anyway, so a few truly reliable friends would be of more use than a small squadron of soldiers. Besides Clayton, Harmon had convinced four more knights to accompany him. They were their round table's companions Sir Magnus McDermott and Sir Tobias Cullum, and their two closest friends, Sir John "Jack" Keeter and Sir Sturgis Turner, probably the only black man to serve in the king's whole army. He had originally been a prisoner, brought home from a crusade to the Holy Land. But on the way back he had been so lucky as to save the king's life. So, the Moor had been released and had earned himself the king's and his knights' trust with his calm reasoning. When he, later on, decided to convert himself to be a Christian, an old knight, Sir Walter Turner, had gladly volunteered to be his godfather and had even passed his name on to him.
The six men rode all day and night and half of the next day until Harmon and Clayton believed them to be near the O'Hara castle. They left the road and entered the woods.
Harmon was by now half-dead with fear of what he would find once they arrived. He dreaded the moment but, on the other hand, he needed to know the exact situation. So he had insisted they leave the horses with Magnus and Tobias. The other four of them would go look for a viewing point. Jack had pointed out a hilltop not too far away and they had immediately set off.
Upon reaching the top, they had stopped dead in their tracks, as on the far side of the little meadow that graced the hill, a cloaked figure suddenly seemed to emerge from the earth. Under his or her cloak the person seemed to carry something. Quietly motioning for his friends to stay behind the nearby bushes, Harmon observed as a second person appeared on stage, then a third, a rather short one.
The three people seemed unaware they were being watched. Suddenly, totally unexpected to him, Harmon's ears caught something that he would never have expected to hear right now: the merry laugh of Lady Sarah Mackenzie. Forgetting all his caution over the tremendous relief to see her safe and free, Harmon rushed out of their hideout.
"Sarah!"
Sarah's heart skipped a beat. She spun around, gasped as she saw Harmon standing on the meadow, dropped her cloak and luggage and, not caring if anyone might find her behavior unbecoming a mourning noblewoman, rushed over to him and threw herself into his open arms.
"Harmon..."
"When I heard the news I thought I'd be too late..." he whispered.
"And I was constantly praying that your landing plans would work..." she replied softly.
He held her tight, overwhelmed to feel her so close. For several minutes they just stood there, holding onto each other, the other five tactfully waiting until they parted.
"How far away is the army?" Sarah instantly asked.
"They should be here in two days. How's the situation?" His kind eyes skimmed her face.
"They ran short of water, but luckily I literally stumbled over the entrance to a long forgotten secret passage that leads to the castle's crypt. We've been supplying them ever since we found it. Nice of you to join us. Now you can give us a hand, and more importantly, you brought some unknown faces with you who can unobtrusively get solid supplies from the marketplace."
Harmon motioned for his friends to come over as did Sarah. Clayton greeted them warmly, especially Aine, Harmon noted with a hidden smile. Then he introduced all of them to Sir John and Sir Sturgis. Together, they immediately went to join Magnus and Tobias and set up a joint camp between the two slopes. Magnus, John and Tobias took turns going to buy food, while the others would continuously walk up and down the passage supplying the castle. They took turns on night watches and sleeping hours as well. Harmon and Sarah by a general silent agreement always walked together, and no one would do anything but smile when they saw them sleeping, Harmon's arms protectively wrapped around his love.
Keeping up a steady routine, they could do nothing but wait until the royal troops arrived. On the evening before the royal army was due, Harmon, stepping out of the passageway, detected movement in Palmer's camps. Obviously they were preparing for a night attack. And they were doing it fast, he judged after having watched them for several minutes. Still, all the preparations took place at the far side of the camp that was difficult to overlook from the castle.
Looking at Sarah and seeing her nod slowly, they were well aware of the risk they were taking when they just put down the empty barrels they were carrying and reentered the passageway. They had to warn the castle's inhabitants. And they had to stand up at their side. They were Sarah's family - and probably Harmon's family-to-be. Running as fast as they could, the pair headed back towards the castle.
The battle was about to begin.
To be continued... (Feedback always appreciated!)