The fortified doors of Lothian Manor stood before them like the gates of a tomb.
They were heavy oak, darkened with age and banded with iron straps as thick as a man's thumb, fitted into a stone archway that had been built to withstand the battering rams of an invading army. Through the timber, Ashlynn could hear the sounds of men on the other side. Shouted orders, the scrape of heavy furniture being dragged across stone, the dull -THUD- of a barricade being set in place. The defenders inside had heard the fighting in the bailey and had sealed the entrance.
