heal. The comforts Nairna had tried to give him over the past few weeks had done nothing to wipe out the memories of his imprisonment.
She worried that no amount of love would take away his sense of blame. Instead of accepting her feelings, he’d drawn away from them, as if he viewed her love as another set of chains.
She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. In time, he would come to care for her again, as he once had. They wouldn’t have a shadow marriage, like Laren and Alex. She couldn’t live like that, with a husband who hardly saw her or cared what she did.
Alone, she walked outside, pulling her wrap tighter. She crossed past the rows of houses, letting her mind drift. More of the women had returned, and she saw one young woman speaking in a soft tone, shushing her crying infant, bouncing the child against her shoulder.
The sight of them twisted at her heart, for she wondered if she would ever hold an infant of her own. Her hands settled over her flat stomach, and she let herself dream for a moment. The thought sent a quiet ache of longing inside. Bram hadn’t touched her in several days, and she didn’t know when he would again. He was so caught up in tending his brother, he’d forgotten all else.
But she supposed that would change, in time.
When she reached the outer area of Glen Arrin, she started to turn back. The clan members were rising to perform their morning tasks and she scented the peat smoke rising into the air, as more bricks were added to the fires.
A flicker of light caught her eye and she turned back. Peering at the hillside, she couldn’t quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was nothing, but it looked like the flare of torches. Her heart quickened with worry and she hastened back to the keep. If there were intruders near, Bram and Alex ought to know about it.
When she reached the interior of the keep, she saw an exhausted Marguerite resting upon a bench with her head upon the trestle table. An untouched plate of food lay nearby.
Laren came down the stairs, followed by her daughter Mairin. Adaira slept in her arms, her head tucked beneath her mother’s chin. Though she greeted Nairna with a smile, there was apprehension in her eyes. ‘Callum still hasn’t spoken. Alex and Bram had to subdue him. He flew into a rage when Marguerite left.’
‘It will take time,’ Nairna said. ‘But at least they treated his wounds.’ Glancing around, she asked, ‘Where are Alex and Bram now?’ She wanted to tell them about the possible intruders, as soon as possible.
Laren glanced upwards. ‘They’re both still with Callum, above stairs.’ She led her daughter to sit down, and lowered her voice. ‘I didn’t tell Alex about the glass—I told him it was a tapestry.’
‘Did you find out who cheated Dougal?’
Laren released a sigh and nodded. ‘It was a travelling merchant. Dougal believed the man’s praise and thought he’d brought back a great deal of silver.’
‘At least the coins served a purpose,’ Nairna offered. She told Laren about the unexpected ransom and about the lights she’d seen this morning in the distance. ‘I worry that it could be Lord Harkirk’s men, if they discovered what we did.’
The chief’s wife paled, but she nodded. ‘Tell Bram and Alex. I’ll gather the women and children and arrange for them to be hidden.’
Nairna’s skin grew cold at the thought of an impending attack. Her father usually avoided conflicts and she’d never been in the midst of a battle before. The idea of hiding from the invaders should have comforted her, but all she could think of was Bram fighting alone.
The last time she’d seen him sparring with Ross, he’d been injured.
Though she wanted to believe that he was stronger, she simply didn’t know. And her fear overshadowed the hope that everything would be all right.
Laren was already waking Marguerite up and the young woman took Mairin’s hand, following Laren outside. Nairna walked up the winding stone staircase to the chamber where Callum was staying. She knocked softly, and when Bram answered she saw the shadowed circles beneath his eyes. ‘You didn’t sleep, did you?’
He shook his head. ‘Neither of us did. He kept waking up and fighting us off. I don’t know if he’s even aware of where he is.’
Nairna wanted to take his hand, to reassure him, but something in his expression made her hesitate. Alex stretched and gave her a nod in greeting.
‘When I was out walking this morning, I saw torchlight in the hills,’ she told them. ‘Do you think any of Lord Harkirk’s men might have followed us?’
Bram’s face tensed, and he exchanged a glance with Alex. ‘It’s possible.’
‘I’ll inform the men,’ the chief said. ‘If it is an attack, send a runner to Locharr and alert the Baron that we may need his help.’ He turned to Nairna. ‘Tell Laren—’
‘She’s already gathering the women and children.’
‘Good.’ The chief glanced back at Callum, whose eyes were open. The man had clenched his hands together; from the expression on his face, he’d understood what they were saying.
‘I’ll need your help guarding the women and children,’
Alex ordered his younger brother. ‘Even Lady Marguerite.’
Callum gave a slight nod to show that he understood, and though his hands were shaking, he managed to take the sword his older brother offered. Nairna wasn’t so certain whether or not the man was capable of guarding anyone, but she understood it was a way of protecting Callum, by keeping him with the others.
Nairna led the men down the stairs and outside to the place where she’d seen the torchlight. By now, the sun had risen, but the sky remained dark with clouds.
Bram and Alex climbed up to the top of the gatehouse, but Nairna saw the threat as soon as they did. Not a few raiders, as she’d suspected.
Instead, an army of men had spread out in the valley, their chainmail reflected in the light like hundreds of silver coins.
Lord Harkirk had brought his soldiers. And with him were Lord Cairnross’s forces.
This was what he’d been waiting for.
Dougal clenched his dirk, hiding behind one of the huts as the MacKinloch archers began firing arrows against the English. The frightened cries of children were shushed by their mothers as Nairna and Laren helped them go into hiding.
The dark scent of soot brimmed within the air and a flaming torch shot through the sky, landing upon a nearby roof. The dry thatch blazed and Dougal moved further away, to find his own position of safety.
The last time the English had come, his brother Alex had shoved him down in the storage cellar with Lady Laren and the girls, as if he were naught but a bairn. They didn’t believe he was capable of fighting.
Not this time. Dougal refused to stand back like a coward, hiding with the women. He could drive his blade into a soldier’s ribs, the same as any of them. Now that he was four and ten, he was old enough to help his brothers. If he slaughtered a dozen Englishmen, they’d finally stop treating him like a child.
Men
