Iliana took a step to the side and leaned over to peer down the wall as they pushed the rock off. It plummeted downward so swiftly there was little chance for those watching to shout a warning. The crash as it smashed into the barricade was incredibly loud, the screams of the unfortunate men in its path louder still as the entire structure shuddered and collapsed beneath. Stew poured down over the now unprotected men.

“Me vat!” Elgin cried as it followed the stew, the men unable to hold the hot vessel. His voice was drowned out by their cheers, however, when the heavy metal vat crashed through the causeway, sending it shuddering and collapsing into the moat, taking a great many of the men below with it.

Iliana herself was silent as she stared at the devastation below. Dead or dying men were strewn about like fallen chess pieces, their moans rising to batter her ears. A few of the men who had waited in the cover of the woods charged forward to aid their fallen comrades, and Iliana’s men immediately loosed arrows upon them. They would give no quarter.

Turning away, she muttered something about checking on Lord Angus and walked blindly back toward the stairs, nearly stumbling into her mother.

Lady Wildwood took one look at Iliana’s stark face, then raised the pitcher she had brought with her. “Here. Have some of this.” Unwilling to be denied, she lifted the pitcher to Iliana’s lips herself, and tipped it up. The fiery liquid poured down her throat, burning a path into her belly. Iliana tugged her head away after a few swallows to splutter and cough.

Lady Wildwood thumped her back hearteningly, watching her face with concern and muttering, “Well, at least you have some color back in you.”

The coughing fit slowing, Iliana raised a hand to ward off her mother and swallowed grimly. “Why would anyone drink that stuff? It tastes like liquid fire.”

“Aye.” Lady Wildwood smiled wryly and brought the pitcher to her own lips, then shook her head with satisfaction as she swallowed. “I fear I’ve found a taste for it.”

Iliana snatched the pitcher from her with a scowl. “How is Angus?”

Lady Wildwood sighed glumly. “He has not regained himself yet. He is resting. I left Gertie with him and came to see what was about up here. Your plan was very clever. You have earned the men’s respect.”

Iliana waved the words away. She had no interest in discussing what she had just ordered to be done. She wanted no credit or praise for it. She opened her mouth to say as much, then whirled at a shout of pain from behind her. The stablemaster had fallen to the ground, clutching his arm. An arrow protruded from his shoulder.

“I shall fetch the women,” her mother gasped, whirling to hurry down the stairs.