THIRTY-FIVE
Just before noon, the gate opened to let out a boat bigger than the coracle Rudolf had sent across the loch yesterday. With three armoured men aboard, it was no surprise. Two red heads watched from the tower window, but he knew neither belonged to Portia. No, she was safe with Father Fintan.
He'd ordered his men back from the lake shore, but they still stood to watch. Few wore weapons or armour as he did – this was supposed to be a peace negotiation. Yet the men in the boat looked ready for war.
As the three stepped ashore, one emerged as a definite leader. The castellan who'd ordered the gates open yesterday, Rudolf guessed. Was this Portia's man, Grieve, or someone else?
Rudolf removed his helm so that he might see them better. The men waited until they reached him bef
