Claimed by the Highland Warrior

by Michelle Willingham

  Bile rose up and he ran to a corner of the palisade wall, heaving up the contents of his stomach. Humiliation was a bitter taste upon his tongue, for he’d just shown Nairna his cowardice.

  Moments later, a gentle hand rested upon his shoulder. ‘It’s all right, Dougal.’

  But it wasn’t. He’d never killed a man before, never known what it was to see the look of shock and death within a man’s eyes. The pieces of his boyhood fell away in that moment, and he understood what his brothers had meant when they’d wanted him to stay clear of the battle. It wasn’t a glorified fight for honour, for death could come at any second, without warning.

  He wiped his mouth, realising that his duty right now was no longer to defend their clan and fight. He needed to bring Nairna to safety.

  ‘I’ll take you back to the others,’ he said. ‘You need to stay with the women and children.’

  His brothers would want that. He would join with Callum and they would form their own defence for those who were too weak to defend themselves.

  Bram fought off the faceless soldiers, knowing that they were outnumbered. Numbness settled over him and he fought to keep his movements controlled.

  Letting the invaders seize control of their lands wasn’t an option. And though his rage was rising with every man he struck down, he couldn’t afford to release his emotions. He had to keep his family safe.

  The armies had formed a perimeter, nearly surrounding their fortress. If they managed to encircle Glen Arrin, it was over. He didn’t know whether the English intended to kill them all or show mercy upon the women and children. It was doubtful that their lives would be spared, unless he could get them away from Glen Arrin.

  Bram swung his claymore hard, connecting with another enemy, bringing him down. He saw his chance to break free of the fight and raced towards the keep, hoping to find a way to get the women out, with Dougal and Callum’s help.

  He stopped short when he caught sight of Gilbert de Bouche, the Earl of Cairnross, entering the gates. Cairnross strode into their broken fortress with the arrogance of one who owned it. He surveyed the land, seemingly satisfied with the burning huts and the bodies littering the ground.

  Bram didn’t move. In his enemy’s eyes, he saw the man who had tormented him. His claymore grew heavy, his weariness sinking into his bones. This man had ordered boys flogged because they were too weak from hunger to lift stones. Too many had died, unable to stand the suffering.

  There had never been any remorse in Cairnross’s face. He had treated the Scots as his slaves, as if they weren’t fully human.

  Doubts and fears rose up inside Bram, crippling his resolve. He saw Alex fighting hard, along with Ross. They would die before surrendering. As would he. But he couldn’t let a man like Cairnross get to Nairna.

  ‘I wondered if you were alive,’ Cairnross said, lifting his sword. He was flanked by two soldiers, guards who would ensure his protection. ‘You were a great deal of trouble as a slave.’

  Bram kept his gaze fixed upon the three men. Though he longed to fight, he forced himself to wait. ‘What is it you want from us?’

  Cairnross glanced back at the rest of the fighting, a smug expression on his face. ‘Harkirk intends to claim his rightful share of your holdings, after you tried to cheat him with false silver. And as for me—’ He nodded to the guard upon his left, who departed for the keep. ‘I lost many of my slaves on the night you attacked. I want compensation for the loss.’

  ‘You weren’t interested in keeping them alive,’ Bram responded. ‘You wanted them to work until they died, and that was enough for you.’

  Cairnross shrugged. ‘They served their purpose.’ Near the gates, more soldiers streamed inside, only to be met by MacKinloch fighters.

  Though Bram was glad to see his kinsmen striking down the enemy, inwardly, he grew colder, afraid that there was no way for them to win this fight.

  ‘Being a traitor has its price,’ Cairnross said. ‘And our orders are to suppress any rebellion.’

  That was it, then. They weren’t planning to let any of them live. Though he’d suspected as much, hearing it was enough to make him grip his claymore and raise it towards Gilbert de Bouche. He might die this day, but he fully intended to take Cairnross with him, for what he’d done to so many men.

  ‘Then I’ll die fighting.’ Bram started to swing his claymore when one of the guards came racing back.

  ‘They’re not here, my lord.’ The guard’s face was red and he was out of breath. ‘We’ve searched everywhere. None of the women or children are inside the fortress.’

  ‘They’re in hiding, then,’ Cairnross proclaimed. ‘Burn them out.’

  Bram’s skin turned to ice. Most of the fortress was made of wood; if it burned down, it would collapse upon the storage entrance, burying the women and children alive.

  The rage inside him was threatening to break out and he gritted his teeth to keep his control. He needed to fight for Nairna and the others, not letting his temper master him.

  A cry he didn’t even recognise came from his throat as he swung the claymore hard. The two soldiers guarded Cairnross, and his blade struck their wooden shields with no effect.

  Cairnross moved away, giving orders to the other men to set the keep on fire. Bram fought hard against the two guards, not even feeling the exhaustion as his claymore became an extension of himself.

  Ross came up from behind. The older man struck the soldier on the left, bringing him down. Bram finished the man on the right when the soldier’s attention was distracted by the death of his companion.

  But they were too late. Already, smoke was rising into the air, the keep blazing. He saw them adding oil to the flames, and as the conflagration spread faster, Bram knew there was no hope of saving it.

  ‘Mary, Mother of God,’ Ross breathed. He broke into a run, and Bram was close behind.

  It was only a matter of time before the unstable structure collapsed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nairna could smell the smoke filling up the castle keep. ‘We can’t stay here,’ she insisted. ‘We have to evacuate the others.’

  Laren’s hand covered her mouth, but she nodded. ‘I know it. But they’ll see us leaving and follow. We’ll die if we try to go.’

  Terror boiled inside her stomach, but Nairna saw no other choice. And when the scent of smoke grew stronger, she didn’t waste any more time. ‘I’d rather risk my chances with the soldiers than be burned to death.’

  ‘Dougal, I need your help.’ She touched his shoulder, wishing she didn’t have to burden a boy with such a task. But their lives depended on it. ‘We have to get the women and children out. They can go to our house on the ridge, but I need help keeping the soldiers back. Do you have a bow?’

  He nodded, pointing to the back of the underground chamber. ‘There are extra weapons hidden there.’

  ‘Good.’ Though she wasn’t particularly good with a bow and arrows, she’d stand with Dougal and fight.

  But only a moment later Callum emerged, holding two bows and quivers of arrows. Nairna tried to take one, but he refused to let go of the weapon.

  His brown eyes held a darkness in them and a fierceness that frightened her. But she couldn’t let Callum’s madness interfere with their escape.

  ‘Can you defend us?’ she asked.

  His eyes met hers and he gave a single nod. Nairna stepped back, unsure of whether or not trusting him was a good idea. But then Marguerite started to gather the women together and Callum caught the young woman’s hand.

  He held it for a fraction of a moment, meeting her gaze. Marguerite’s cheeks flamed, but she nodded. ‘I know,’ she whispered.

  The underground chamber had one exit that led outside to the back of the keep. Below it lay a large ditch that the men had dug to keep out invaders on that side, partially filled with rainwater. Nairna started to move forwards, but Marguerite stopped her.

  ‘I know the way to your house, Nairna. I’ll go first and lead them, if you’l
l help Laren gather the others. I don’t know them as well as you do.’ The young woman’s face was tense with fear, but she seemed determined.

  ‘All right,’ Nairna agreed. She went back to the weapons, hoping to find a bow of her own. There was only a crossbow with a single bolt, and she took it. Dougal and Callum would need help, and though she wasn’t experienced at fighting, she would do what she could to protect the women and children.

  The smoke grew worse, a smothering odour that stung her eyes and burned her lungs. Some of the children started coughing, and Laren began leading them outside. She held her own daughters, one over each hip, as the women followed.

  Nairna joined her in gathering everyone together and Marguerite walked beside Callum. Though neither spoke, she saw the protective glint in Callum’s eyes.

  The two young men took their positions on opposite sides of the ditch, Callum near the keep and Dougal on the other side of the bank.

  Nairna climbed down into the water with Marguerite. She gripped her skirts as she sloshed through the muddy ditch water, and they grew saturated, heavy from the soaked weight. Her dog Caen dived into the water, paddling across before he headed up the hill, shaking the water off.

  Once Nairna managed to climb up the bank, it was clear that one of them would have to stay at the hillside to help the women get out of the water, particularly if they were holding young children.

  ‘Go and take cover in the trees,’ Nairna told Marguerite, setting down her crossbow on the ground. ‘I’ll stay with Dougal and help the women out of the ditch.’

  Although the path leading to their house was towards the front of the fortress, a line of thick fir trees edged the lower part of the hills. If they stayed hidden, they could make their way to the ridge.

  Marguerite obeyed and as more women emerged with their children, Nairna assisted them out of the water. Jenny joined them and she directed her maid to hide with the others. Meanwhile, she kept watching both sides for signs of any soldiers.

  She worried about Bram, not knowing whether he was alive or dead. Though she understood that he would fight better without her, being apart from him was a physical ache that didn’t diminish. The thought of losing him a second time made her heart go numb. She didn’t think she could bear it.

  No longer was he the boy she’d first fallen in love with. He was a man who’d experienced torture and darkness, almost losing himself to it. And though he might never love her in the way she loved him, it didn’t matter. She wanted whatever part of him she could have. She held fast to the hope that one day he would see her with different eyes. One day, she would mean more to him.

  If they survived this day.

  Callum took his position on the bank beside the fortress, an arrow already poised in the bow, but his hands were shaking.

  ‘Can he shoot?’ she murmured to Dougal.

  ‘I don’t know.’ The boy shook his head. And that wasn’t at all reassuring.

  Nairna knelt down in front of the ditch, holding infants while their mothers tried to climb out of the water. Her dog Caen rested at Dougal’s feet.

  The first group of soldiers came around the corner and Nairna’s heart seized with fear.

  Sweet heaven, she didn’t know what to do. She handed a baby to his mother before reaching for the crossbow. She didn’t know how to aim it, much less release the bolt. And she only had one shot.

  Before she could even consider aiming the weapon, Callum released an arrow that struck the soldier’s face. He followed up with a second shot that embedded within the soldier’s heart.

  Nairna stared at the man, struck speechless by what she’d seen. How he could have such skill after being locked away for so many years made little sense.

  But the look he cast towards Marguerite was a quiet promise that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. And the soft smile Marguerite gave him made Nairna’s heart ache, as the woman disappeared into the trees.

  Dougal cried out a warning and more of the enemy emerged from the other side. He tried to fire an arrow, but it struck the ground. Shaking, Nairna lifted her crossbow. She’d never killed a man before and she prayed she wouldn’t have to.

  The soldiers charged closer with their spears, calling out for more men to join him. But just as before, Callum’s arrows took the men down, some of the bodies crashing into the ditch water.

  Laren led her own children through the ditch, bringing up the middle group of women. They disappeared into the woods, and Nairna sent up a silent prayer that they would make it to safety.

  Only a dozen or so women remained, and the keep’s tower began to crumble, the wood groaning under the weight. Nairna set down her crossbow at Dougal’s feet, climbing back down into the ditch. She helped one of the mothers by picking up a three-year-old boy on her hip, ordering the others to get out.

  Bram and Alex came up around the corner at a full run. Blood covered her husband’s hands; Nairna didn’t know if it was his or another soldier’s.

  She was so relieved to see him, she passed the child she was holding up to his mother, who had already climbed up the bank. The remaining women got out of the ditch and Bram crossed through the water, helping her up. As soon as he emerged from the ditch, he pulled her into his arms.

  Nairna was shivering with cold, but feeling his arms around her made it easier to endure. She clung hard, and both of them saw at the same moment when the keep started to fall apart.

  ‘Callum, dive!’ Her husband roared out the warning, and his brother threw himself at the ditch. Callum hit the water, while behind him the wooden structure collapsed. Marguerite emerged from the forest, but Nairna let go of her husband and shoved the young woman back.

  ‘He’ll be all right. Take the women up to the ridge and I’ll send him soon.’

  Marguerite sent Callum a worried look, but she returned to the woods, hurrying with the rest of the MacKinlochs.

  Bram helped his brother out of the water, while Nairna turned to Dougal. The young man kept an arrow poised in his bowstring, but he looked terrified at the idea of facing more soldiers. ‘Go behind the women and take your bow,’ Nairna ordered. ‘We’ll follow you in a moment.’

  But just as Dougal disappeared, the soldiers came pouring around the corner from both sides. One archer fired several arrows towards the forest before Callum killed him.

  Nairna cried out a warning to Bram and Alex, who split off to meet the men, their shields and weapons ready. She picked up her crossbow, her heart stopping when she saw a soldier swing his sword at Bram’s head. A sound tore from her throat as she ran to her husband. Though she couldn’t do anything to stop it, she released the bolt and it struck a different man.

  Bram dived to the ground, skewering his attacker with his claymore. They were completely outnumbered and Nairna understood that she was not going to survive this attack. These men would show no mercy, not after all that had happened.

  She reached Bram and helped him up. He kept his claymore steady, but the soldiers simply closed in on them, waiting for the command to kill. Nairna wrapped her arms around his waist, as if she could hold on to these last moments with him.

  Callum held his bow steady, his eyes glazed as if he weren’t really seeing the soldiers. He didn’t move, nor did he speak.

  Lord Harkirk entered on horseback from the right, while Lord Cairnross joined in from the left. Bram’s arm tightened around her and he moved down to whisper in her ear.

  ‘When I tell you to, I want you to run hard towards the others. I’ll fend them off as long as I can, to give you an escape.’

  In other words, he would sacrifice his life for hers. Nairna’s eyes welled up with tears and she buried her face in his tunic. ‘Bram, if I leave, it will lead the soldiers to the other women. Their only chance at living is if I stay here.’

  He made no reply, holding her tight against him for a long moment. She let the tears fall and whispered, ‘I’d rather die at your side than live without you again.’

  Bram released her, his tone
rigid. ‘I’m not going to let you die, Nairna.’

  He took a step away, raising his hands in surrender. Eyeing first Harkirk, then Cairnross, he said, ‘If word gets out of what you’ve done here this day, the clans will unite. The war will continue and you’ll have given them a reason for vengeance.’

  He paused, choosing his words carefully as he stared at Lord Cairnross. ‘I’ll return willingly, as your prisoner, if you let them go.’

  He’d once said that he would die before becoming a prisoner again. But it wasn’t at all true. He’d surrender his freedom, even his life, if it meant saving Nairna.

  He drank in the sight of his wife, afraid it would be the last time he saw her. Her brown hair was tangled, her green eyes filled up with tears. Even now, she was a balm to his broken soul. She was everything to him and they’d had so little time.

  The memories flashed before his mind, quiet pieces of the past that he tried to hold on to. And he realised then that leaving her was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. He wasn’t worthy of her love or being her husband. He’d made so many mistakes, born of his hotheaded ignorance and, now, his carelessness.

  But he loved her. He hadn’t believed himself capable of it, but the emotions swelled up inside, his need for her overriding everything else.

  Cairnross gave a signal and two soldiers seized him. He went with them, hoping that they would agree to this. He didn’t care what happened to him, so long as Nairna and those he loved were safe.

  But once he’d given himself up, two other soldiers seized his wife. Cairnross rode forwards, his expression ruthless and coldhearted. ‘You took my betrothed wife from me. It only seems fair that I take yours in return.’

  ‘Don’t touch her,’ Bram ordered, the rage rising up inside. He could feel the anger clouding his judgement, transforming it into hatred.

  ‘Perhaps I’ll let you watch,’ Cairnross mused. ‘And when I’m finished with her, you can watch her die.’