Connor took the three steps from the tower in one stride, tossed his clothes on, and grabbed his claymore as he ran out the door.
"What is it?" Ilysa called after him.
"We're being attacked!" He repeated the cry to awaken the men when he reached the hall. "Everyone outside!"
Connor burst out of the keep and ran hard for the gate. Ensuring it was secure was the first task in defending the castle. The sky was already a shade lighter with dawn nearing.
O shluagh! Connor's heart flipped over in his chest as he made out two figures slumped on the ground inside the gate. When he was a few yards from the downed guards, he could see in the growing light that the gate was unbarred. He heard running feet on the other side and ran faster. Leaping over the bodies, he flung himself against the gate.
Thump, thump. The gate bounced against his shoulder as men banged on the other side, trying to force the gate open. Connor braced his legs against the weight pounding against it. A gap inched open, and the shouts of the attackers rang in his ears. He rammed the heavy bar across, but he could not bring it home.
"No!" All would be lost if the enemy came through the gate. Gritting his teeth, Connor gave a final push and slammed the bar across.
No sooner had he secured the gate than he was surrounded by a dozen warriors who had followed him from the hall. He had only been alone at the gate for a few short moments, but battles and wars were won or lost in such moments.
"Drop the portcullis!" he shouted.
Someone followed his order, for he heard the rapid clank clank clank of the chain as the heavy iron grate fell free, quickly followed by the anguished cries of the men caught under its sharp points.
"To the walls!" Connor shouted, and waved for the men to go up to repel the attackers.
While he gave orders, a part of his mind grappled with what he had seen. The two dead guards. The unbarred gate. It could have been a disaster, the battle for the castle over almost before it began. That was the plan. While the MacDonald warriors slept, someone had killed the two guards and opened the gate.
There was a viper inside the castle.
* * *
After Ilysa had seen to all of the wounded who had been carried into the hall, she left Cook in charge and went outside to look for more injured. From the steps of the keep, she surveyed the chaos of the attack in the slanting streaks of dawn light. Arrows sailed into the courtyard. Several men were busy propping logs at an angle against the gate, which shook with a rhythmic pounding. Above her, warriors were fighting hand-to-hand with attackers who had scaled the walls.
She watched in horror as one of the MacDonald warriors fell backward off the wall. He landed with a thud and lay twitching with his legs splayed at awkward angles. Ilysa ran across the courtyard and dropped to her knees beside the fallen man. There was a dirk in his chest. His body was still now, and his eyes open and unseeing. There was nothing she could do for him.
Overcome, she covered her face and keened over him. But this was no time for weakness, so she forced herself to stop. There were others who needed her attention.
As she struggled to her feet, she saw Connor watching her from across the courtyard. When their eyes met, the sounds and sights of the battle faded, and there was only the two of them. It could not have lasted more than an instant, but she felt as if time itself stopped.
Then he waved his arm and shouted, "Get inside!"
She ran back to the keep. From the protection of the doorway, she turned and saw him climbing a ladder up the wall with a dirk between his teeth.
Lachlan followed him, carrying a bow and arrows. Once they were on the wall, Connor fed arrows to Lachlan, who shot them, one after another in quick succession. Between shots, Connor pointed, apparently choosing targets. She guessed he was picking out the leaders or the most formidable-looking warriors.
Connor left Lachlan on his own while he knocked one enemy and then another off the wall. Ach, he was a wonder with a sword. Ilysa had her own part to play. When she saw a man limping toward the keep, dragging his bleeding leg, she hurried to help him. This one, she could save.
* * *
Connor was not surprised to find that the attackers were Hugh's men, rather than MacLeods. A traitor in the castle was far more likely to have a connection to Connor's rival within the clan than to their enemy clan.
The one bright light in this miserable day was discovering Lachlan's deadly skill with a bow and arrow. Hugh's men shot their arrows blindly into the castle, occasionally making a lucky hit. But there was no luck involved with Lachlan's bow - except bad luck for anyone in his aim. Unfortunately, Hugh did not show himself. Connor suspected he was watching from the safety of his damned boat. Hugh could wield a sword with the best of them, but he was judicious about risking his neck when he could be.
"Bring buckets of water!" Connor shouted when he saw that the thatched roof of one of the storerooms along the wall was in flames.
Before the words were out of his mouth, he saw Ilysa leading three women across the courtyard, all of them carrying sloshing buckets. An arrow whizzed by Ilysa's head, and his heart stopped. If the woman did not stay inside, he was going to tie her to a goddamned chair.
When he caught up with her, he handed her bucket to the nearest man, picked her up, and shouted at the other women to leave their pails and get the hell inside.
"Stay in the keep where ye can't be hurt," he ordered Ilysa after he set her down on the steps.
"I'll try," she said.