from Chapter Four: Early Warning

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     Clyde lay buried deep under layers of wool blankets with Gwen curled up behind him, pressed warmly against his skin. He thought he was dreaming of drums and pipes playing a merry dance. The pipes faded until all he could hear was the steady beat of the drum. He opened his eyes and realized he was in his quarters. It was still dark throughout the room, and when he peeked through the crack in the shutters, all he could see was blowing snow amidst the darkness. The pounding drumbeat continued. Clyde wrapped a robe of bearskin around his shoulders and followed the sound out of his chamber and into the hallway.

     All his senses were sharpened from years of serving Dylan and using his eyes, ears, and nose to assess every situation, doing all he could to anticipate any event to protect Dylan and their families from any ill fortune. The pounding was not a drum but a steady knocking upon the outer door of the servants’ quarters. Clyde descended a set of stairs, turned right down another hallway, and approached the door. He opened a small see-through cut into the center of the door panel and peered outside. A boy in his early teens, his face blue in the darkness and covered with snow, pounded steadily with the underside of a clinched fist. He shivered like a cornered rabbit. Clyde unbolted the door and pulled the boy inside.

     “What time is it?” Clyde asked.

     “Almost the fifth candle,” the boy replied. “We saw them about half past the fourth, I reckon, but I don’t know how long it took me to run here or how long I’ve been knocking.”

     Clyde recognized the boy now, even in the darkness. His name was Baylen, and his grandfather was Murdock, the harbormaster. “Why have you run here in the dark of night?” Clyde asked.

     “Ships are coming,” Baylen said. “A lot, we think. We can’t tell because of the darkness and the snow. My grandfather saw them first, but I could see them before I left.”

     “Go to the kitchen and warm yourself by the fire,” Clyde said. “I need to get dressed and tell Kim Macnylleth. We will be back in a few moments.”

     Clyde retraced his steps back to his quarters and dressed as fast as he could. He knew that whether the ships were friendly or not, a multitude of them sailing in weather such as this could mean nothing but an emergency. He lit a candle from the glowing embers of his chamber hearth and slipped through the door in the back of the chamber that lead up a back staircase to Dylan and Siannon’s room.

     Clyde used his candle to light a torch on the wall beside Dylan’s side of the bed. Dylan’s head was already poked through the bed curtains when Clyde turned to wake him.

     “What time is it?” Dylan asked.

     “Almost fifth candle.”

     “What’s wrong?”

     “Baylen, the grandson of the harbormaster, ran here through the snow. He says they’ve spotted ships approaching.”

     “Ships?” Dylan said. “As in more than one?”

     “Aye.”

     “Are they close enough to make out the flags?”

     “It’s still snowing, Kim. I’m surprised they were able to see the ships at all.”

     “Still snowing? Ships are approaching at night in a winter storm?” Dylan disappeared behind the bed curtain and told Siannon to wake up. “Clyde, find someone to ring the castle alarm. Tell the captain of the watch to put everyone on full alert. By the time you get back, I’ll be dressed and ready to go.”

     “Go?” Siannon said. “Go where?”

     “Ships are approaching,” Dylan said. “We don’t know why yet, but we are going to find out before they make land.”

     “Don’t bother with the watch captain,” Siannon told Clyde. “I am Captain of the Guard, and we’ll be ready before you make it to the harbor.”

     Dylan got out of bed and began pulling on his trousers. “Clyde, I also want you to wake Gwen. Tell her to wake Rupert, and have the two of them gather all the children in the family dining room. Have them dressed and fed and ready to move if we need to.”

     “Aye, Kim Macnylleth,” Clyde said, and he vanished into the darkness of the chamber.

     “What kind of madmen sail in winter, much less through a storm such as this?” Dylan wondered aloud.

     “There can be only two reasons,” Siannon replied. “Because they have to, or because they think no one else will expect them to.” She was dressed by this time in dark trousers and a gray tunic, standard non-armored military dress. She would need at least two servants to help her into her suit of black armor, which was polished and stowed away in the first floor armory.

     Dylan had also finished dressing, his heavy fur coat, hat, boots, and gloves making him look like a tall but undernourished bear. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, and he walked to her and kissed her. “I love you.”

     “I love you, too,” she said. “Don’t be late. I don’t want to start a battle without you.”

     “That’s my girl,” Dylan said, kissed her again, and headed down to meet Clyde.

     Bells began to toll from overhead as the night watch sounded the alarm. First one bell rang, and then another guard in another tower joined, then another, then all of the watch stations clanged their heavy iron bells. In the stillness of the dark morning, it was as jolting as the frigid wind still howling outside. Half-dressed servants scurried down narrow hallways to light torches. No one spoke, but there was a clear sense of dismay and confusion; an early alarm meant danger, but no one knew yet what the concern was. Dylan and Clyde met downstairs and walked together to the kitchen.

     Baylen sat next to the stone oven. The oven wasn’t stoked with the morning fires yet, but it had retained much of its heat from the evening before, and being inside the castle was warmer than standing in blowing snow. The kitchen staff had not arrived, so it was just the three of them.

     “Tell me everything that happened,” Dylan said to the boy, “and exactly what you saw.”