Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (the rosie project TXT) 📗

“Because Robert’s men have trained longer, have more weapons, have a nearly fortified structure in which to hide, and outnumber us. And they are being paid by Robert to do whatever he asks, paid so they can feed their own families. They are men like ourselves.”

Torben scoffed but didn’t say anything.

“They have wives and children, too. Some are vicious like Robert, but some are in his employ only so they can feed their families and better themselves like any other man. I will use that knowledge in this.” He nodded to the Hillside warriors.

Knowing the thoughts of one’s enemies was essential to winning any conflict. Robert’s men were Scotsmen like himself. Joshua even liked some of them, but tonight they were the enemy. “Who here has been to Robert’s palace within the last month?”

A few, who had been forced to work on the new wall, raised their hands. “Those of ye who have not, be sure to be near someone who has in case we must advance. They will have better knowledge of the layout of the palace grounds.”

He looked out at the grim faces. “We have the advantage of surprise, and under this moonless, cloudy sky, we will be virtually unseen spread across the hill leading down toward the palace.” A ridiculous location for a fortress; it should have been built on the highest ground. “Robert expects us to be in small numbers, so that is what he will be shown.” Joshua pointed to Osk, Calder, and Torben. “Ye three will accompany Kára and me to the front gate.” It was best to keep the disgruntled Torben close so Joshua could keep an eye on him. Calder nodded. Osk stood straighter. Torben frowned and crossed his arms.

“We are outnumbered, but we will use stealth and divide them to different sides of the fortress. That weakens their defense. When we arrive, I want four men, plus their poppets, to go to each of the other sides of the palace: coast, back, right flank. Have a fire source with ye, but keep it hidden until ye see my signal.” He had already checked the tide, and it would be low enough to allow one group to follow the shoreline.

Corey started choosing and dividing up men and the few women.

Joshua nodded. “My first signal”—he raised his unlit torch in the air—“will be for the three small groups to light their torches and draw Robert’s soldiers into four smaller groups within the palace. When I raise it twice”—he jabbed it high in the air two times—“then everyone else will light their torches on the hill behind us.” He lowered his arm. “But wait for my signal. There is a chance I will not raise my torch at all.”

“What is the signal to attack?” Torben asked.

Joshua turned his focus on the man. “The goal is to retrieve Geir without attacking.” Joshua’s gaze slid out to the warriors before him. “But if I jab my torch in the air three times, those armed with the pitch-soaked arrows will fire them over the wall and at the gatehouse.” He took a deep breath. “And if I wave my torch over my head back and forth, we move forward.” Attacking Robert’s men meant most of these people would die. He would try to remedy this mess without the need.

“The best outcome will be winning back the lad without bloodshed.” His gaze stopped on Erik Flett. “On both sides.” He paused, but the man did not nod, and Joshua scanned the rest of the crowd. “A forward, all-out attack would see many casualties and deaths, mostly on the side of Hillside. I will avoid it, but if it comes to that, set fire to the fields around the palace.” He looked to three men who held bows. “There are hay piles inside the gate to the left when entering. Fire up your arrows and shoot them high over the wall. Hopefully, they will hit and catch. Either way, the fire will disrupt.”

He had taught Robert’s soldiers to remain calm in attack, but would they adhere to his teachings under John Dishington’s brutal leadership? When Joshua had been there, none showed loyalty to the mercenary.

Damn. Would he be up against young Mathias or lovesick Angus? Civil war was the worst kind, pitting friend against friend and brother against brother.

He glanced at Kára. Her love for her son and determination to get him back added to the strength in her stance. She would march against Robert Stuart, even if she knew she would die in the effort. And bloody hell, he wouldn’t let that happen.

Joshua turned back to the Hillside warriors. “I will ask for Robert to bring Geir forth, so we can see that he is alive. We will also know exactly where he is.”

“Why is Chief Erik not leading us?” Torben asked, his voice loud, cutting through the breeze off the sea. “Let Robert see he hasn’t conquered his or our spirit.”

The Hillside warriors knew very little about battle, the mental game that, if played right, would lead to victory. “First,” Joshua said, “Robert thinks he has broken your chief’s spirit by taking his arm, or his life if he did not heal. By giving Robert something he expects, the absence of your chief, he will be more lulled into thinking he knows what is going on and will act in a predictable manner. There is time for surprise, but there is more success by making the enemy feel they have the upper hand.” Which they bloody hell did.

Joshua looked to the man standing tall, his stump wrapped tightly with a poultice and linen strips. “And, secondly, I am your general. Chief Flett is your sovereign and leader. He orders the recovery of Geir Flett, and I devise the best chance of doing so successfully.”

Erik stood stoically, staring out at the men. Was he expecting Joshua to say he was not strong enough to lead without his arm? Hardly. The fact the man had survived the torture, mistreatment,