The Guardian by Diana Knightley

Seventy-two - Hayley

“Idon’t want to get up.”

I was face down in peat and pretty sure this was where I would die.

Fraoch groaned to his feet. “Get up, m’bhean ghlan, ye daena want tae be face down in the dirt.”

I pushed myself up and spit mud from my mouth.

“I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Fraoch shrugged. “Tis just something we do.”

Quentin said, “Like a job? Hell no, a job is something that doesn’t take a decade of your life in a day.” He shook, making his mouth go, wubbawubbawubba. He jumped up and brushed off his clothes. “We got this? Everyone ready? It’s morning, and my plan is we are not here tomorrow morning.”

It was a brisk day for June, terrible weather, the landscape covered in rocky grays and deep greens. Beautiful, except a storm was blowing cold winds off the northern ocean that caused our teeth to chatter. I brought a jacket, we each had one, but still — the wind cut right through us.

James asked, “Whose job was it to check the weather in June, 1589?”

We rode north coming to a small village where Fraoch stopped to ask for any news he could find.

He rejoined us at a brisk gallop. “Och, I tried tae find out what they kent about a woman bein’ kept at the castle, but I dinna find anythin’. Now we ought tae move, they hae sent someone tae the castle tae warn them we are asking about them.”

Quentin said, “We need to beat them there then.” He turned his horse and set it into a fast pace.

* * *

We rode north for a couple of hours coming to a rise above the castle, far enough away. We had the fancy binoculars, they had the naked eye.

The castle was perched on a rock, an outer wall, a tower, a drawbridge to it. It looked, swear to god, like something out of Harry Potter, and not in the good way. It was like some dark evil lurked there, like a dungeon was it’s only purpose, like a Transylvanian vampire was the main inhabitant.

But there on the top of the tower was a standing telescope.

James said, “She’s there, she’s definitely there! God I could kiss Lady Mairead! Maybe she’ll come out tonight, and we can signal to her.” In unison we all looked up at the sky, the gray thick clouds. There was no chance of star viewing.

Quentin said, “There are no bad ideas, let’s hear it.”

I said, “We call the kitchen staff and ask them to let us talk to Sophie.”

Quentin said, “Okay, there are bad ideas. What else?”

Fraoch said, “I will go inside, I will ask questions until they release her tae me, or I will begin shooting until we get away.”

Quentin said, “Or if she will come out to the rooftop, we could send a drone to toss a vessel at her feet.”

James said, “I don’t think she would know how to use it. She has no idea what is happening... she thinks she’s all alone. She doesn’t know anyone is coming...”

Quentin said, “Okay, so we don’t have a good idea yet, but—”

James stood, went to his horse, and climbed on. “I’m going into the castle, give me a walkie-talkie.”

Fraoch said, “I a’ready offered tae go — I speak Gaelic, I can—

“No, I’m going. Are you going to give me one, Quentin, or am I going to go without it?”

Quentin passed him one. “James, dude don’t be crazy... we need a better plan. What if—”

“As our friend Mags would say, ‘Nae’, nae to your ‘what ifs’, Quentin. I’m going in. Fraoch, you and Hayley need to guard Quentin while he mans the drones.” He turned his horse to look back at the castle. “You send a drone with the vessel to meet me on the walls. I’ll get there, and I’ll have Sophie with me — aim for the telescope.”

Quentin said, “This is the most fucked up plan I ever heard.”

James said, “I have six guns on me, so I’m getting in that castle. I’m going to find her. All you have to do is send down the drones, I’ll meet them on the roof.”

He rode off down the hill.

Fraoch said, “Och, he has a death wish for sure.”

James rode fast, it was exhilarating and spectacular. Quentin watched through the binoculars, giving us the play-by-play. “Okay, he’s going, mud is splashing... he’s on a path, yep, right up to the gate... holy shit, he’s lost his mind... he’s crossing the bridge... holy shit, he’s going right up... Uh oh, he’s talking to some people. Like ten men around him... now he’s going inside and... shit, he’s gone.”

He passed me the binoculars and began frantically opening the drone case and assembling the drones, blowing on his fingers while he worked. “I didn’t actually think he’d get in. See anything?”

I looked but it was just a castle. “What did you see? Were they acting like friends or foes?”

“I couldn’t tell, looked pretty menacing with ten men standing around, Magnus said the most dangerous thing is the castle gate.”

“Well, he’s inside now, hopefully he doesn’t die in there.”

Quentin got three drones placed in front of us. Fraoch was guarding over us with his gun drawn as I watched through the binoculars. Quentin wrapped a vessel to the main drone with duct tape.

I said, “How’s he going to work it?”

“He’ll have to cut it off.”

“With what, his scissors?”

“He’s got a dirk, I mean...” Quentin wrapped another strip of duct tape around, his hands shaking. “I mean, him getting to the duct taped drone is an impossibility anyway, right? I think the rest of it is likely to kill him long before he gets there.”

He rushed around linking the drones up while I watched the wall, the telescope sitting alone. Then we heard it, faintly: pew pew. Guns were firing in a distance.

I spoke into the walkie-talkie: James! What’s happening? James!

No answer.

Quentin grabbed the monitor. And then, “Holy shit! James is up on the walls!”

I was giving the play-by-play as I watched through the binoculars, “He has someone... Sophie, I think... slung over his shoulder. Whoa, that’s bad ass, he’s firing down the walls! Is she injured?”

The drones rose into the air. Quentin holding the screen, guiding them as they swooped down the hill to the castle. He was chanting, “Come on, come on, you got this, come on...” They were in perfect synchronized formation, the vessel-carrying drone in the middle, the two on either side, firing at the walls.

“Don’t shoot him!”

“I’m not going to shoot him. I can see him, plain as day now.”

Fraoch came to look over Quentin’s shoulder. I put down the binoculars and it was like a television, the drone’s eye-view.

“Och, he has got ten men comin’ up the — he put Sophie down, she’s...”

Men on horseback rode across the bridge aiming for the hill, the path, toward us.

Fraoch climbed on his horse. “They’re comin’ tae fight. I’ll meet them down the path. See ye in a moment.” He rode away.

Quentin, concentrating, said, “The drone is right there! They’re behind a bulkhead, the drone is right there!”

I put the binoculars up to my eyes, “She’s grabbed her telescope. He’s jumping for the drone. Lower it! Lower it!”

“I see him, Hayley, shut up, I’m concentrating!”

Then James plucked that drone out of the air, like a quarterback, he tucked it to his side and tried to rip the duct tape. He struggled with it for a moment. Then he must have gotten it off. Sophie threw her arms around him and then a storm rose above the castle.

* * *

Fraoch was riding toward us, firing over his shoulder at the advancing men. “Get our vessel ready!”

Quentin dropped everything into the case at his feet. Fraoch leapt off his horse and all but crashed into us, while Quentin was twisting the vessel. We grabbed around each other just as the men from the castle came over the final rise, swords raised — we jumped.