V Masters - The Castilians - A Story of the Siege of St Andrews Castle

She hugs him again and stumbles on like a confused mole. The light fades as the tunnel curves and rises. She bumps into a wall of rubble and realises she’s reached the end. She feels with her hands, it’s much easier to climb than the clumsy joining of the mine and countermine, for it is a mound rather than a rock face. There’s a light above – someone is coming.

Laying against the rocks she hopes it is someone who’ll recognises her, best of all Will, otherwise she may have escaped Wardlaw to a worse fate. A face appears holding a torch aloft. There’s an exclamation and a voice says, ‘Bethia Seton, by God’s good heart. What are you doing here?’

A hand reaches down and hauls her out. She staggers as she tries to stand. He places an arm around her for support and she looks up into the sweet-natured face of James of Nydie.

The besiegers have got their cannons atop St Salvators and more on the abbey tower: fourteen in total, Bethia tells the Castilians. It is as they suspected and, when daylight comes, it is confirmed. The garrison cannot even harry them, for all cannons are set high. Leslie questions her about this Strozzi from Florence, but again, there isn’t much she can tell.

‘A man who knows what he’s about, much like our Richard Lee did,’ says Leslie.

‘We should never have let him leave,’ mutters Carmichael, scowling at Bethia as though she was somehow responsible.

The bombardment begins and Will tells her to move from the Cardinal’s apartment. ‘There is nowhere safe and you have fled from danger into greater peril,’ he says, as they duck their heads at yet another explosion, followed by the rumble of falling masonry. ‘But the Sea Tower is, at least, further from their cannons.’

She is shivering but growls back at Will. ‘I would still rather be here and risk the cannons than have Walter Wardlaw force himself upon me.’

‘I am sure, as Father told you, Norman would protect you.’

‘And I am as sure that he would fail.’

She covers her ears with her hands.

Will glances to the ceiling as the room shakes. ‘Let’s go, quickly.’

She stays in the Sea Tower, cowering as the castle is pulverised. Arran’s guns take out the East block house, and damage the great hall. It’s clear the garrison cannot withstand for long, so depleted are they by bad food and sickness; and men escaping.

Will returns and stands before her as she crouches in a corner.

‘Norman Leslie is strangely silent,’ he says. ‘He knows it’s he who is seen as the ring-leader. He was called to Edinburgh to answer when we first took the castle and he was named in the Great Cursing; we are only the aiders and abettors.’ He rubs his forehead hard. ‘I think he is afraid, and I must go and help. We will resist as best we can, but I do not think it will be for long.’

She watches him go, so very tall and now broad-shouldered – and surprisingly calm, resigned even. Her little brother is become a man. He returns soon, bringing her some food.

‘What is this?’

‘Try it,’ he says grinning.

She nibbles a corner. ‘It’s quite… tender.’

‘Aye, rat-meat isn’t too bad.’

She goes to spit it out, then thinks better of it and keeps eating, trying not to retch.

Will’s smile fades. ‘Kirkcaldy of Grange has stepped up and taken charge. He says we are to surrender and we must do it quickly, before the castle is taken. This way we may survive, for the condition with any surrender is that our lives are spared. Kirkcaldy, amidst all his cares, has thought of you – he says you must be hid.’

‘Why can I not surrender along with you?’

‘Our terms are that we must be transported to France, at Arran’s expense, and if it does not suit us there, then we are to be transported to whatever country we desire, but not back to Scotland. Kirkcaldy says you are a gentlewoman and it is safer for you to stay hidden, else who knows what may happen to you. And I agree.’

He turns to leave and she grabs his jerkin. ‘We could escape, Will, through the tunnel.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry Bethia, but it is too late – otherwise I would have sent you back already, since I could not leave my fellows now. It’s a pity you chose this moment to come through, but Kirkcaldy ordered it blocked when he knew how you entered, and there’s been no shortage of rubble to shovel down it. That escape route is now closed and, if I were you, I would heed Kirkcaldy’s wise advice and hide.’

She picks at the skin around her thumb nail, already red raw, as she follows Will across the rubble-strewn courtyard. It seems the few other women, servants and whores, are not spared a thought, so she’s touched that Kirkcaldy considers her, amidst all his cares. But when they show her, in the flickering torchlight, where she is to be hid, she balks.

‘I will be trapped. I will die down there for no one will see me, or hear me.’

‘That is what makes a good hiding place, to be neither seen nor heard,’ pleads Nydie, and Morrison beside him nods in agreement.

‘Come, Bethia, be a good girl and do as you are told. We do not have time for this,’ growls Will, shifting from one foot to the other. She doesn’t want to embarrass him, can see he’s exasperated; but he, of all people, should know her terror of confined spaces. Already she’s finding it difficult to breathe and she’s still outside the pit.

All is suddenly silent; they’ve stopped firing. Everything seems to be moving slowly, as though in a dream.

Peter Carmichael struts over. ‘Either climb down or we’ll throw you in. You should never have come here, you’re nought but a nuisance.’

She flushes, but it is with fury. They didn’t think she was a nuisance when she brought Lee information about the mine.

Nydie steps between Bethia and Carmichael, but Carmichael sneers ‘You think you can take me in a fight. Try it, son, just try it.’

‘Enough,’ shouts Kirkcaldy as he ducks into the room. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, water dripping onto the floor from his cloak.

‘Make up your mind, lassie, we cannot wait all day while you dither. The East block house is rubble and we won’t hold out much longer. The rain is only a wee delay and as soon as it lets up they’ll start firing again. If we don’t surrender then they’ll take the castle, and it’ll be the end of us all. So you have a choice, you can surrender with us, or hide. But if it was my sister,’ he nods to Will, ‘I would be for hiding her, for who knows what they’ll do to a bonny young lass.’

Will nods in agreement. ‘Come on Bethia, please.’ He grabs her arm and hauls her towards the edge.

‘Stop, Will, stop,’ she cries. She digs her nails into the back of the hand gripping her.

‘Get down that ladder,’ he shouts, thrusting his red face into hers.

‘But if I go down, how am I ever to get out?’

He drops her arm and rubs his face, spreading the dirt further around it.

‘The lass is right,’ says Kirkcaldy. ‘She’ll no be able to climb out without help, and it’s better she has someone to aid her escape. You must get in there with her.’

‘Yes, Will, stay with me, please.’

Carmichael laughs. ‘Aye Seton, in you get, and we’ll bring you a gown and a shawl and you can be twa lassies the-gether.’

Will is still. She wonders what he’ll do and if she should get between them.

‘You sound jealous, Carmichael. Maybe a gown and shawl would suit you better.’

She would cheer him for those words, if she were not so afraid.

Carmichael punches Will in the chest, but he barely moves. In the midst of her fears Bethia wants to laugh; what can Carmichael be thinking, Will towers over him. He places his hand on Carmichael’s forehead and pushes. Carmichael staggers back and sits down, blinking. Will shoves past James and Morrison, and strides out of the guard-room. She hears the thud as his head cracks on the low archway but he doesn’t stop, or even reach up to rub it.