Her eyes widened. “What has happened?”
“Nothing as of yet. But the army that attacked us two days ago has made encampment to the south and is just sitting there, waiting. The only reason they would not have disbursed is if they are planning another attack or perhaps waiting for reinforcements before doing so. We will presume it is the latter.”
Her brow furrowed and she put her hand on his arm. “Where will we go?”
“To Alnwick,” he replied, putting his hand over hers. “It is about twenty miles away. We can make it there in a few hours at a fast pace.” He rubbed her hand gently. “I am sorry, sweetheart. I know I told you that we could go to Forestburn but I am afraid this latest information will prevent that for the time being. I must get Edward, and you, to safety. Harbottle cannot withstand another siege of large proportions.”
She looked up at him, her big eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken words. He could read fear, confusion, disappointment, but most of all, she looked sad. The sorrow only increased until she finally lowered her head.
“I understand,” she said quietly. “When do you think we will be able to return to Forestburn?”
“I have no way of knowing. As soon as we are able, I promise.”
She nodded her head, still looking at the ground. Then her head came up slightly. “We…,” she whispered, catching herself and then starting again. “We will have to leave Ailsa here, will we not?”
It was not a question he had expected. With all of his troubles, he had nearly forgotten about the little girl they had buried two days ago and guilt swept him. He should not havebeen so insensitive to Toby’s feelings. With a gentle hiss, he pulled her into his big arms.
“She is safe in the chapel,” he murmured. “No harm will come to her.”
Toby broke down into more tears, still expelling grief over her little sister. Tate held her tightly.
“I am sorry,” he murmured. “I have caused you nothing but grief since nearly the moment we met. I am sorry we have to leave your sister here. But it will not be forever.”
“She will be all alone when we go,” she murmured, knowing it was foolish even as she said it but it was her sorrow speaking.
“She is not alone,” Tate corrected her gently. “She is in Heaven with your mother and father and, I suspect, a host of other relatives. Perhaps she is even now annoying Red Thor, your Viking forbearer, demanding that he sing the Fairy song.”
That brought a smile to her lips and she looked up at him. “You are right, of course,” she attempted to wipe her face clean and stop her tears. “I am sorry I am being so foolish. ’Tis just that… well, Ailsa and I have never been separated, not ever. This will be the first time.”
He smiled down at her before kissing her on the forehead. “It will not be permanent, I promise,” he said. “Now, I need for you to pack up everything we brought from Forestburn. Can you do that?”
She nodded, wiping daintily at her nose. “In truth, I have not yet unpacked completely. But I will take Althel with me and make sure everything is packed and ready to leave. What about the stores?”
“Kenneth has charge of supplies and will make sure the kitchen is cleaned out.” He kissed her forehead. “When you are finished packing, then offer to help Stephen. He has a good deal of wounded to move and could probably use your assistance.”
Toby nodded, eyeing him as she did so. “Did you talk to Stephen, then?” she asked hesitantly. “He seemed pleasant enough this morning.”
Tate nodded, taking her elbow and leading her towards the ladder to the upper floor. “All is well.”
He did not elaborate and she did not press him. He helped her gather her skirts as she headed back up the ladder. Once in the great hall, he took both hands, kissed them, and went on his way. Toby’s gaze lingered on him as he quit the keep, still hardly believing she had married the man and wholly given to daydreaming when there was work to be done. But her daydreams consisted of Ailsa, of Forestburn, and of what the future held for her and Tate. So much in her life had changed over the past few days. She felt as if she was living someone else’s life.
When Tate had left the keep and all was silent but for the sounds of the bailey coming in through the open door, Toby shook herself of her musings and went in search of Althel. They had work to do.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“He is movinghis army. Our spies could see great wagons being loaded and the troops being mobilized.” The general’s gaze was on de Roche, hard and questioning. “If he moves his army, we lose the advantage of an attack against a weakened fortress.”
Hamlin digested this latest information before responding. “What would you have me do? Our numbers are not sufficient to successfully attack again. We will destroy ourselves if we do.”
“Then perhaps we have enough men to simply keep them on the defensive inside Harbottle,” the general replied. “He cannot move his army if there is another laying siege. That would be suicide.”
Hamlin shook his head, setting aside his cup of ale. It was his fifth cup in as many hours, whiling away the hours as the thunder above their heads rolled.
“It would be as if we were fleas attacking a dog,” he said frankly. “We would be annoying but no threat. If he is moving his army, then we must follow him to see where he is going.”
“Where else would he be going?” the general threw up his hands. “Alnwick is twenty miles from Harbottle. It is a massive fortress. Once he is sealed up in that place, we will never get to Edward.”
De Roche drew in a long, thoughtful breath. After a pause, he began to pace about pensively. “Where are our spies to the south? Do they know how close Mortimer’s army is?”