Tate cocked an eyebrow at him. “And go where? I would suspect that there are far more of them than of us. I fear they are heavily onto our scent, enough so they have had time to gather reinforcements. I fear that if we leave the safety of Harbottle, it will leave us open and vulnerable on the road. We would do better to stay here where we are safe for the moment.”
“Then send to Alnwick for reinforcements,” Edward said with mounting irritation.
Tate’s gaze was steady. “What makes you think that I have not already?” When Edward looked surprised, Tate took another drink of ale and turned away, pacing casually towards the windows. “When Stephen returned to Harbottle three days ago to gather more troops, he sent additional dispatches to reinforce Harbottle. I requested four hundred men from Alnwick, but I also sent a request to John de Clavering of Warkworth Castle. We should be seeing either army any day now.”
The young king was embarrassed that he had challenged him. Tate was wise in all things and he should have trusted him. As Edward hung his young and agitated head, Stephen moved to take his own cup of ale. Kenneth moved up on the other side of him and the three of them began to make short work of the alcohol.
“I doubt the movement we saw to the south was Warkworth’s men,” Stephen said, cup in hand. “They would not be skulking just inside the tree line.”
Kenneth took a long drink and poured himself more. “I am concerned that it is an advance party for Mortimer. The man is heavily allied with the Howards of Cumbria and we could very well be facing an approach from Howard’s army from the west and Warkworth’s from the east. We would be caught in the crossfire.”
Tate looked at Kenneth, the quieter of his companions but definitely the more cunning. “What would you suggest?”
Kenneth looked at him with his ice-blue eyes. “Remove Edward from this place. Return him to London and put him under the protection of the Crown troops.”
“Mortimer is at Windsor.”
“But he is not at the Tower; the Tower is still held for the king. That was our original destination once we raised funds for the king’s cause, was it not?”
Tate nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “And I am not varying from our plans. But with Mortimer so close on our scent over the past two days, I am very concerned about moving Edward on the open road. If we are caught.…”
Kenneth lifted his hand in agreement, turning back to his ale. “I know,” he muttered, taking another drink. “They will take Edward and kill us. Although I do not particularly relish the thought of my own death, I do not relish the thought of Edward’s more.”
“He is safer here at Harbottle than anywhere else until Warkworth or troops from Alnwick arrive.”
“Agreed.”
Stephen had been listening to their conversation. “What if neither castle received our missive?” he asked quietly. “Mortimer’s men were closer than we realized when we sent messengers. What if they were captured?”
Tate’s gaze moved to the tall, thin youth who was now gazing into the fire. “We will know in a day or two if troops do not arrive,” he said quietly. “Then we will have to rethink our strategy.”
The knights stood silently a moment, drinking their ale, pondering the course of the next two days. Tate finally broke from the pack and went to Wallace, standing near a lancet window and watching the activity in the bailey. It was developing into a quiet dusk, the sounds of night birds singing in the distance.
“Given the men we currently hold, how long can the castle withstand a siege?” Tate asked the old man.
Wallace looked thoughtful. “It would depend on the size of the attacking force.”
“You know the size of the attacking force.”
The old man grunted. “A month at most.” He turned to Tate. “My lord, if you are going to remove the young king, then it must be now. You cannot delay.”
“I have no plans to remove him.”
Wallace shook his head in disagreement. “Give him to me,” he said with quiet urgency. “I can spirit him to Scotland. My cousin is a monk at Kelso Abbey. Mortimer could not get him there.”
Tate lifted an eyebrow. “If the Scots did not get you first,” he slapped the man on the shoulder. “A noble offering, but I believe his safety is best served here at Harbottle.”
Wallace’s gaze moved to the young king, standing near the flames, and then back to Tate. “Then what of the womenfolk?” he asked pointedly. “Would you imprison them at a castle under siege?”
Tate’s humor fled; the mere thought of Toby being separated from him made his blood surge. He knew that Wallace was correct in his suggestion but he was having difficulty with the rightness of it.
“They will be safer here than back at Cartingdon or worse, out on the open road,” he said tersely. “You have been trying to be rid of those women since they arrived. What is your aversion to them?”
Wallace shook his head. “No aversion, my lord. But Harbottle is a man’s fortress. Women do not belong here nor are they safe here.”
“Safe?” Tate’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that soldiers sometimes lack control. Being that there are no women at Harbottle, their presence is something of an anomaly. They could easily make sport of one of them.”