Chapter Twenty-One
Her husband had fallen into such madness, Nairna feared she’d lost him. Sweat dripped down his face and his eyes were wild. Blood covered his hands and the body of Lord Cairnross lay fallen on the ground.
Nairna had never seen anything like it. The rage had broken free and Bram had moved so fast. He’d torn her free of the soldiers’ grip, slaughtering them like a legendary berserker.
Alex shielded his brother, protecting Bram as they both fought. And then her husband had run to Cairnross, dragging the earl off his horse before killing him.
Now, Bram held his claymore with both hands, as if daring anyone to draw near. Lord Harkirk had disappeared and the soldiers were awaiting orders for what to do next.
Nairna didn’t know. But when the archers pulled back their bowstrings, ready to take her husband’s life, she ran to stand in front of Bram.
‘Don’t,’ she pleaded with them. She couldn’t stand and watch him die. ‘Please, don’t.’ Tears that streamed down her face, and she shielded him, even knowing she might lose her own life.
She didn’t care. She needed to be with him, no matter that it might be their last moments. Bram’s eyes were clouded and she saw no awareness within them. His breathing was ragged, his eyes glazed.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the arrows to slice through them.
Instead, she heard the roar of men approaching. From both sides, there were archers surrounding the enemy with bows drawn. Lord Locharr rode forwards in full armour with his MacKinnon clansmen. On the opposite side was another nobleman, dressed in regal finery. He was flanked by at least twenty men, and behind him were even more soldiers. They were heavily armed, with both archers and cavalry.
Within minutes, Lady Marguerite emerged from her hiding place in the forest and ran towards the nobleman. From the similarity in their features, Nairna suspected the man was her father.
The nobleman signalled for two of his men to guard Lady Marguerite, while they escorted her to his side. She spoke quietly to the man for a moment, before he gestured for the guards to take her to safety.
A moment later, the man glanced at Lord Harkirk cowering behind his soldiers. ‘I am Guy de Montpierre, the Duc D’Avignois,’ he said.
He rode forwards, staring down at Harkirk as if the Englishman were little more than an insect. ‘I’d advise you to return to your own stronghold, unless you’d rather I discussed this attack with your king. I suppose he would be interested to hear of why you’ve stirred up more unrest in the Highlands.’
Lord Harkirk signalled for his men to fall back. He met the duke’s stare, but was wise enough not to argue. Within minutes, his men retreated, followed by Cairnross’s survivors. Nairna didn’t breathe easily until they were gone.
Alex came forwards to greet the duke along with Lord Locharr, and between the three, Nairna overheard talk of alliances.
But there were still matters she wanted to address with the duke. She let go of Bram and moved forwards.
‘Your Grace,’ she said, dropping into a curtsy. The nobleman turned a curious look upon her and waited for her to speak. ‘What about the death of Lord Cairnross?’ She worried about Bram and whether or not the English nobles would accuse him of murder.
The duke eyed the fallen body of Cairnross. ‘Should anyone ask, I will bear witness that the earl was killed in battle.’
Nairna closed her eyes with thankfulness and Alex sent her a reassuring look.
‘And there’s something else,’ she blurted out, despite his impatient look. ‘Lord Harkirk has been demanding payments from the surrounding clans, in order to secure peace. I believe you would gain the support of many men were you to use your influence to stop the bribes.’
‘I will see what can be done,’ the duke answered.
She sent him a grateful smile, as he turned to talk again with Lord Locharr. Satisfied that she’d done the best that she could to help her clan, Nairna turned back to Bram. His fist still gripped the claymore and his expression remained stoic.
‘Bram,’ she whispered. ‘It’s over.’
Her relief was so great, she went into his arms. But he never responded. Never moved. His palms gripped the claymore as though everything depended on it.
She couldn’t pry the hilt out of his grasp and Alex came over to help her. When at last he took the claymore from his brother, Nairna tried to guide Bram home. She needed to do whatever she could to bring him out of his darkness.
He let her lead him up the hill, but his hands were cold. Alex followed, and after a short distance, they found Callum crouching atop a flat stone, his bow and arrows held in one hand. He was fixated upon Lady Marguerite, watching her with her father.
The longing on his face made Nairna ache for him, for there was no hope of a match between a duke’s daughter and a third son. He seemed to know it, and after a time, he turned away and joined them.
When they reached the ridge, Nairna told the others what had happened. Most of the women wept with relief, taking their children in their arms as they started on the walk home.
Alex looked at his wife as though he wanted to pull her into his arms, but Laren remained frozen in place. She watched her husband, her expression filled with an unnamed emotion. Then he helped to bring Bram inside, while Laren stood alone with their daughters.
Nairna was the only one who saw the pain on Alex’s face.
‘Will you be all right with him?’ he asked, eyeing Bram, who was seated on the bed.
‘Aye.’ Nairna poured water into a basin and retrieved a cloth to tend her husband’s minor wounds. ‘Go to Laren. She needs you.’
There was a slight shift in Alex’s face, but he nodded and left. Nairna hoped that he would indeed go to his wife and reconcile with her. Though Laren had put on a brave face for the sake of her girls, the woman had been terrified.
When, at last, Nairna was alone with Bram, she picked up the cloth and soaked it in the water. Her hands trembled, so afraid she wouldn’t be able to break through to him. She brought the cool cloth to her husband’s face, smoothing away the dirt and blood. Then she pulled his tunic free, lifting it off to bare his chest. There was an angry cut on his arm and she washed the dried blood away, thankful that it wouldn’t need stitching.
‘Nairna,’ he murmured, when she brought the cloth over his scarred back. Awareness had filled his eyes, and he reached up to take her hand. ‘Are you unharmed?’
‘Aye.’ She cupped his face, pressing a kiss onto his mouth. ‘We’re safe now. And your brothers. Everything will be all right.’
Bram bowed his head, resting his bloodstained hands on his knees. ‘I would have died for you, Nairna. Willingly.’
‘I didn’t want you to die.’ She stepped between his legs, lifting his arms around her waist. Right now, she sensed that he needed her, needed a physical comfort. She kept her arms around him, sitting on his lap.
‘I
