Cairstine looked around at the devastation, trying to decide where to go first. She noticed a group of children huddled together close to the well. “Eoin!” She called over the noise and pointed towards the children when he heard her.
He nodded, and she pulled blankets from her basket, rushing to wrap them around those shivering. She ran back to the basket and pulled out a waterskin she hurried to share with them. She glanced around the disastrous scene, spotting more people who needed water and blankets. She distributed all that she had, helping her mother and sister as they dressed wounds and offered comfort to those who were inconsolable. Throughout her efforts, she kept an eye on Eoin, ensuring she could see him, knowing he could see her. She’d refilled waterskins and handed them out to the men as they worked, taking each man’s place in the line, so he could drink without causing a break in the chain.
Eoin’s forehead dripped with sweat, the salty water trickling into his eyes and making them burn. He ran his sleeve over his face countless times, but he knew it merely smeared the sweat and grime. He’d been grateful each time Cairstine offered him a chance for a drink, proud of how she stepped in to keep the buckets moving whenever a man had a moment’s reprieve. He was sure she would be in pain the next day, her body unused to the physical strain it was under. While he was overheated, the activity wasn’t unusual to him. He might be sore in the morning, but he knew it would be nothing compared to what Cairstine faced. Eoin tried to convince her to take a break, but the withering glare she cast him made him bite his tongue. He rolled his neck, waiting for the next bucket to pass through his hands. He’d taken his eyes off Cairstine when the man beside him almost dropped the full bucket, and when he looked up, he couldn’t find Cairstine. He scanned the area in front of him before twisting around. Eoin was certain his heart stopped when he spotted her. He bolted from the line.
Cairstine heard the muffled cries, but she struggled to discern where they came from over the roar of the fire and the myriad voices. She turned in a circle until she was certain of their direction. Horror filled her as she made out the outline of two children standing within a fiery croft. There was smoke pouring out of the doors and windows, and the thatching was ablaze. She could tell the fire trapped children, and they were too terrified to find a way out. She ran toward the home, snatching three blankets she found lying on the ground.
“I'm coming,” she called as she ran around the side of the croft, trying to find the best way in. She knew she would do them no good if she injured herself. There seemed no way to enter the building without running through the flames. A stream ran behind the croft where she could see men filling buckets, the well too crowded. She didn’t think twice before jumping in, drenching herself and the wool blankets she held. She ducked under the surface, ensuring she’d soaked her arisaid along with her skirts. She clamored up the bank and ran toward the door of the burning croft.
Cairstine used one of the sodden blankets to beat back the flames as she darted inside. She thought she heard someone call her name, but she didn’t dare wait another moment. She slapped at the flames that threatened to swallow her as she picked her way to the children.
“I’m Cairrie,” she coughed as she tried to call out to them, choosing her nickname in the hopes that it would sound reassuring to the children. An overhead beam groaned and shifted, causing a little girl to scream. The structure’s movement wafted smoke into Cairstine’s face, making it nearly impossible to see where she was going. She couldn’t walk a straight path to the children, having to weave around flames. She prayed she still pointed in the right direction. She pulled her arisaid over her mouth and nose, the moisture a welcome relief to her irritated nose and throat. She reached the children, her heart sinking as she realized there were more than she’d seen through the window. A girl of about ten held a babe, while four more children no more than five or six-years-old stood huddled around their sister. Cairstine could never carry them all, nor would she be able to guide such a lengthy line through the flames. She looked at the babe, knowing it was most urgent that she get the youngest one out first. The babe wasn’t crying, and that worried Cairstine most. She threw a blanket around the older girl, wrapping her arms and babe. “Follow me,” she told the girl before turning to the other children. “Crouch as low to the ground as you can. I’m coming back for you.”
Cairstine didn’t hesitate, grabbing the older girl’s arm with one hand while beating back flames with the other. It felt like an eternity before she found the door, pushing the girl into the fresh air. She turned back toward the children, but Eoin’s bellow made her pause.
“Cairrie! Nay!” Eoin ran through the doorway, flames nipping at him. “Get out. It’s aboot to crumble.”
“Can’t,” Cairstine coughed. She pointed toward the other children. “More weans.”
“I’ll get them. Go, you’ve breathed too much smoke already.”
“Nay. Too many for just you.”
“Cairrie,” Eoin reached for her as she skirted around him, disappearing into the smoke. He followed where he believed she led. He feared they would find no one left alive as it felt like forever before he heard Cairrie.
“I’m almost there,” she rasped. “Stay down.”
Eoin followed her voice, breaking through the smoke and flames to find Cairstine wrapping a boy in a blanket then lifting a girl who was barely a toddler into her arms. Eoin looked at the other two who were bigger than the boy and girl Cairstine helped.
“Give me the last blanket,” Eoin gasped. He turned to the bigger of the two near him, a girl with an ash-caked face, and pointed to his back as he squatted down. “Get on my back.”
Once the girl climbed on, Eoin flung the blanket over his back and the child before lifting a young boy into his arms. “We have to go, Carrie,” Eoin’s order came as a beam crashed down from the ceiling, blocking their way out. Cairrie turned fearful eyes on Eoin, and he knew his mirrored hers. “The window.”
Eoin led them to the nearest window, but it was on fire. He lowered the children, using the blanket to slap away the flames enough that he could wrap the blanket around the little boy he’d carried in his arms. He thrust the child through the window, holding onto the blanket as the child landed on the ground. He wrapped the girl who’d been on his back in it and thrust her through the window next. Once he had the last child through the window, he kicked at the frame, making a hole wide enough to pass Cairstine through, but still too small for him. He could feel no more wood and sod would give, so he wouldn’t be able to leave that way. His broad shoulders would get stuck if he tried. He’d die half hanging out of the croft.
“Cairrie, I’ll pass you through. Hurry.” Eoin pulled Cairstine’s arisaid back over her head, having slipped down her hair.
“You won’t fit,” Cairrie grasped his upper arms but pushed away. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Yes, you are. There isn’t time to argue. Go. I’ll make it out.”
Cairrie shook her head, but he gave her little choice when he lifted her and hoisted her through the window. Eoin heard her scream as another beam crashed just beyond his left shoulder, the embers catching on his leine. He pulled the extra length of plaid over his shoulders and head just as he would to shield him from rain or snow. He spun around, searching for a way to the door. The extra air that the larger window allowed in shifted the flames, making it harder for him to move toward the door. He leaped over larger flames, the hair on his legs scorched, while stomping on smaller ones as he inched his way forward. He was nearly to the door and could see Cairstine outside when the frame went up in flames and the surrounding walls exploded. He covered his face and took a running leap, praying he could pass through the flames rather than run into them like a blockade. The heat engulfed him for a heartbeat, then he felt the cool night air. He dropped to the ground, rolling to smother the flames that caught his plaid.
“Eoin!” Cairstine screamed just before he felt a blanket snap across his back. It landed several more times before nothing around him moved. He sat up only to be knocked over when Cairstine launched herself into his arms. He pulled her against him, finding her mouth as they reassured one another that they both emerged alive and unharmed. He ran his hands over her, reassuring him that he’d gotten her out unscathed. Her hands cupped his face as she smattered kisses over his forehead, cheeks, nose, and finally back to his lips. When they both coughed from too much smoke remaining in their lungs, they pulled apart.
“If I wasn’t so bluidy relieved you’re alive, I’d take you to task for doing something so dangerous. My God, Cairrie, you could have died in there.”
“I thought you were aboot to.” Cairrie stood looking at him, then suddenly burst into tears. Eoin held her as she sobbed, neither confessing the depth of their feelings. Neither willing to admit the fear of losing one another that threatened to suffocate them. Cairstine remembered the children and pulled away. She wiped her face as she searched for them.
“I saw an aulder woman come for them. She shooed them away. Did you see anyone else in there?” Eoin asked.
“Nay. I don’t know if their parents weren’t there or if they perished, but I saw no one else.” Cairstine buried her face against Eoin’s chest as another wave of sadness consumed her as she thought about the probability that the children were now orphans. They took a last look at the croft that no longer existed, save for the roaring fire, before Eoin led Carrie to the stream. He helped her into the water where they both washed the soot from their faces and necks, taking deep gulps of water as the slow current eddied around their legs and cooled them after the scorching heat.
When Eoin was certain Cairstine had drunk enough, he guided her back into the village center. It was just past dawn, and they’d mostly contained the fires. Bodies, both living and dead, were strewn upon the ground. People sat and lay wheezing while others appeared to have dropped into an exhausted sleep. Eoin and Cairstine spotted Edward yelling at Bram, even though they couldn’t yet hear his words. Edward pointed a finger at Bram, who shook his head. When Edward lunged for Bram, Cairstine sprinted toward the men, guessing the source of anger.
“Father, I’m well. I’m right here,” Cairstine called as she ran towards the two men, Eoin close on her heels. “Father! Bram!”
Both men pivoted at her voice, and she was certain she saw tears in both warriors’ eyes. Her father looked as though he might reach for her, but he held himself still at the last moment. Cairstine slowed, the rejection and hurt wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation, but it crushed her nonetheless. Eoin pulled her against his side, comforting her with his stoicism and strength. Cairstine accepted his support, leaning on him physically and emotionally.
