He didn't need to see to know there were exactly ten steps from the bailey up to the castle doors.
Because he had counted those steps every day of his life since he could walk.
This was his home, a home that had been stolen from him. A home that had once held happy memories, but was now filled with the ghosts of his father, uncle and sister.
The cart circled the bailey and came to rest next to the stable just as Braden had instructed. He waited until Keith, Mary and Colin were out of the cart and well away before he gave a hard shove against the wood at his side.
The board popped off at the bottom. Braden grasped the board and scooted from his hiding spot, hidden beside the stable wall, before he dropped to the ground.
Carefully, silently, he replaced the board. After a look around to make sure no one was watching, he slipped into the stable.
As he was in the MacAlister plaid, no one paid him any heed. His people still wore their clan tartan with pride. But it was his face he worried about. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head so that his face was in shadow.
Braden glanced at his favorite horse who nickered when he neared. As much as Braden wanted to stop and stroke the sleek grey coat, he couldn't.
He exited the back of the stable and turned to the left to walk behind the buildings to the chapel. As he neared the chapel, his heart quickened.
Already he had progressed farther into his plot than he had expected he would. Even if Niall somehow caught him, the other clans would come. They would surround the castle. And a battle that would be spoken about for centuries would ensue.
Niall's reign would come to an end no matter what.
Braden peered around the chapel to see Colin standing at the gate talking to the guards. It was the sign that his other men should begin to infiltrate the castle.
As much as Braden wanted to kill Niall, he couldn't. Niall needed to be brought before the king and tried for his unspeakable crimes. The king would decide what sort of death Niall deserved.
Braden pushed against the stone that unlocked the door to the back of the chapel. There a soft thud before the wooden door opened a crack.
He urged the door open just enough so that he could slip inside. Braden pulled the door closed behind him before ducking into the shadows.
Despite his need to move, he stayed still for a moment. He had to be prudent.
When he was sure that no one else was in the chapel, Braden hurried behind the altar in a crouch. His fingers gripped at the wooden floorboards at the base of the altar and he worked on lifting them. For a moment nothing happened, and then the boards gave way.
Braden glanced at the single section of five boards in his hands. They fit so snugly together that no one had ever seen the seam and realized it was a trap door.
He set the boards aside and sat on the outside of the hole so that his legs dangled into the darkness beneath him. No light was needed. Though Braden had never had to use this tunnel from the chapel before, his father had made him travel all the underground tunnels so often that Braden knew them as well as he knew the castle.
He jumped into the tunnel and landed with his knees bent. After a moment, he straightened, reached for the boards and settled them back into place over the tunnel entrance.
Then he started running. To the castle. To Niall and the end of all he had wrought.
Seven.
Jean clutched her cloak so tightly her fingers began to ache. Keith had deposited her between two shops while he and Colin played their parts.
She saw Colin talking to the guards at the gate. Was this some sort of sign for the others? Jean was turning away when she spotted Braden. He walked with strong, purposeful steps on his way to the chapel. She wanted to go to him, to help him. To hold him.
But instead she held her ground.
It wouldn't be long now before her father and the other clans surrounded the castle. She had promised Keith she would make her way out of the castle before the battle began. As much as she wanted to be around to aid them, she knew she would only be a hindrance.
Jean didn't walk through the middle of the bailey. She kept close to the shops, mingling with the occupants. She was constantly on the lookout for Niall.
She was almost to the gate when someone rammed a shoulder into her, spinning her around. Jean was ready to bolt until she saw Keith's ashen face.
He weaved on his feet, his breathing laboured. Jean saw the blood dripping from the fingers of his left hand.
"Keith?"
He tried to smile but only tilted towards her.
Jean quickly grabbed his hulking form and backed him into an alley between the shops. "Keith, what happened?"
"The guard I took down got lucky," he rasped. "I didn't get out of the way ... in time."
Jean lifted his cloak and grimaced when she saw the wound in his side. If she could tend to it he would live. "I need to get you out of here."
"Nay," he growled. "I'm to be inside the castle for Braden."
"In this condition you would only get yourself and Braden killed."
"Bind the wound," he ordered, his eyes hard. "I willna let Braden down."
Jean inwardly cursed as she lifted her gown and tore off a piece of her shift. She wound it around Keith. "This won't be enough to stop the bleeding, but it should slow it."
"It'll have to do, lass."
"Nay," she said and grabbed his shoulder. "Tell me what needs to be done and I'll do it."
He shook his head sadly, as he struggled to keep upright. "You canna."
"I can do it better than you can in your condition. Tell me, Keith."
"Braden will kill me."
"I won't get caught."
Keith's gaze stabbed her. "You better no'."
"Tell me. Then get to Colin."
Jean listened to every word, memorizing every detail. She swallowed and looked at the dark grey stone of the castle.
"Can you do it?" Keith asked.
"Aye. For Braden I can."
Keith's meaty hand clamped on her shoulder. "Good luck, lass. You're going to need it."
Braden paused in the tunnel as he reached what could be the last door that stood between him and Niall. He withdrew his weapon and put an ear to the door, listening for any sounds.
Braden had taken the tunnel that lead to the master chamber. The chamber Niall had taken for himself, of course.
He slowly opened the hidden door and stepped into the room. One glance showed that Niall was nowhere to be found. The chamber however was in complete disarray.
Braden made his way silently into the corridor. Niall knew that one day Braden would come to try to take back his castle so Niall had guards set up everywhere.
It didn't deter Braden, however.
He crept up behind the first guard and knocked him on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword, then dragged him into the nearest chamber. He tore the linens and bound and gagged the guard.
Braden didn't tarry and moved down the hallway looking out for the next guard. There were a few of the guards that were more troublesome than the others but Braden wouldn't be stopped. Not now. Not now that he was in his home.
Jean pushed open the castle doors and stepped inside the great hall. A few servants walked briskly to and from the kitchen. Three guards were locked in conversation.
So far no one had noticed her. And Jean wanted it kept that way.
She quietly shut the doors behind her. Head down, she made for the stairs. She was just steps away from reaching them when the hood of her cloak was ripped from her head.
"Well, well, well," said a male voice laced with humour.
Jean spun around and jerked her shoulder to wrench the cloak from the man's grasp.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"It's none of your business."
His gaze narrowed as he took a step towards her. "Everything that involves Lord Niall is my business."
Jean's blood ran cold as she stared into eyes black as pitch. This must be the commander of Niall's guards. He had the look of a man accustomed to being having his every word followed.
A man you didn't say no to.
She couldn't fail before she had even begun. "Then you'll have to tell Lord Niall why you have detained his ... guest."
The two guards behind the commander cackled with laughter. But the man before her merely looked her up and down. "You're pretty enough, but not like the other women my lord prefers."
Jean shrugged and tried to look as nonchalant as she could. "I'm just a woman. What do I know of the minds of men?"
The man smiled as he leered at her. "Maybe when Lord Niall is through with you I'll have a sample."
"Maybe. If Lord Niall is occupied, maybe we could take a little time to ourselves. I may not be Lord Niall's usual type, but you are certainly mine." Jean ended with a wink.
The man regarded her a moment, though she saw the interest that brightened his black eyes. "Call me Simon. Lord Niall would kill me if he knew."
"I certainly wouldn't tell him, Simon."
The commander held out his arm for her before he looked back at the other two guards. "I'm going to escort Lord Niall's guest into his chamber."
Jean swallowed past the lump of anxiety that had wedged in her throat. Her fingers itched to grasp the pommel of the dagger Keith had slid into her palm. She needed to stay calm and focused.
It would take a perfect plunge with the dagger, and in just the right place, to kill Simon. Jean knew how to do neither. Keith would have simply killed him and taken the key.
She had to come up with another way to get into the room and get rid of the commander.
Jean allowed him to lead her into a small bedroom. He leaned against the door as he slid the bolt into place and smiled. She looked around the room to take in her surroundings. The bed loomed large to her left. It was made even more pronounced when the commander walked to it and held out his hand.
The key to Niall's chamber was around his neck, hanging on the outside of his shirt and tunic. It was just a matter of getting to it.
"I hope you aren't going to keep me waiting," Simon said.
Jean grinned and gave her hips a pronounced sway as she walked to him. "I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing to a fine man like yourself."
"Just what I wanted to hear." He lifted his kilt and stroked his arousal. "Come. I want it inside you."
Jean glanced at the small table beside the bed and spied a goblet and a small chest. Those were the only two things within her reach, besides her dagger, with which to inflict enough harm to knock Simon unconscious.
She put herself between him and the table. Her fingers deftly caught the goblet behind her and tucked it into the folds at the back of her cloak as she put her other hand on his chest.
"You want me badly, don't you?" she asked.
"Desperately," he panted. "Doona make me wait another moment."
Jean pulled him away from the bed until she could walk around him. "I'd like to look a wee bit more over such an impressive warrior."
He didn't stop her as she walked behind him. Jean took a deep breath and brought the goblet down on the back of his head.
There was a loud grunt before he staggered and turned to face her. He blinked as he looked at first her and then the goblet. "What have you done, wench?"
Jean was trying to figure out what to do next when he crumpled to the floor. She tossed aside the goblet and grasped the pommel of the dagger.
She found the thin leather cord around his neck where the small gold key dangled. Jean cut the leather and took the key. With one last look at the commander, she rose and raced to the door.
Keith had told her she would find Braden on the second floor near the stairs leading down to the great hall. Jean didn't know how much time she had before Simon awoke and set off the alarm.
She reached the landing to the great hall and leaned against the wall. She found it most odd that there were no guards in the corridors, just the two sitting below in the great hall.
It had to be Braden's doing, but where was he? He needed the key. Without it, he would have no proof of Niall's deeds. Jean waited several more moments, her anxiety rising with each beat of her heart.
Could something have happened to detain him? Maybe she needed to get the evidence herself?
Keith had explained that the master chamber, which he was sure Niall would have claimed for his own, was on the third level. Jean prayed she remembered Keith's instructions about how to reach the master chamber. If not ...