Alex sighed in frustration and ran his hand over his face. He’d forgotten for a moment that he was incapable of defending Caitlyn like he once had. His need to get her away from Christopher had been so urgent that he hadn’t thought about what he might do if the man followed them. It wasn’t until they were halfway to Caitlyn’s chamber that he realized he might have endangered her more by taking her from the crowded Great Hall into an empty passageway.
He trudged down the stairs and made his way toward the wing that housed the bachelors’ quarters. A clap of thunder made his heart drop and his gut tighten. A flash of lightning made him glance toward an arrow slit. Three more rapid rumbles of thunder made him freeze. The brief interval told him they were practically in the storm's eye. More lightning flashed, but he couldn’t move his feet. As he continued to gaze out of the gap between the stones, he no longer noticed the bailey but the battlefield that haunted him now during his waking hours.
He was certain he felt his horse’s gait beneath him as his steed clomped through the mud until Alex feared the beast getting stuck. He dismounted into the sludge that came up his shins. He struggled to pry his feet free as he twisted toward the hillside that overflowed with Scotts hurtling toward the Armstrongs and Elliots.
His head didn’t move while he peered out the arrow slit, yet he was sure he searched for Brice. Part of his mind recognized he couldn’t find Brice since he stood in Stirling Castle, not Mangerton, but the need to find where his younger brother fought pinched like a vise.
“Brice,” Alex whispered to no one.
Another flash of lightning brought his memory back to the Scott he battled as his back brushed against Brice’s, reassuring him that his brother was still there.
He struggled to keep his balance as his enemy sliced his sword through the air, and the impact rattled Alex’s bones. He defeated the man before him as he thrust a dirk into the man’s throat, but as he did, he realized he no longer felt Brice behind him. Yanking his knife free, he spun around and watched Brice crumple to the ground. He bent to check if Brice lived, so he was unprepared for the man who ran toward them. It was too late when he sensed the warrior’s approach. Alex straightened and stepped over Brice, shielding him as he always promised his mother. He didn’t raise his sword in time to block the downward momentum that nearly severed his arm from his shoulder. As the force threw him backward, asgian dubhpierced his cheek. He felt his weight drag the knife down his cheek as much as his enemy’s strength did.
Alex’s eyes riveted on the lightning that continued to flash, but the thunder was now the screams of pain and clashes of metal. He trembled as memory after memory flooded him, so powerful that he could smell the death from that day. The part of his mind that was still aware of where he was, told him to move, to walk to his chamber, that it wasn’t wise to lurk alone in the passageway. But the fear had too tight a grip on him.
“Just who we were looking for,” Collin Scott said as he and his fellow Scotts approached. He frowned when Alex didn’t acknowledge him. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Is he having an apoplexy?” Christopher wondered. “Are we really that fortunate?”
“Nay,” Paul responded. “He’s terrified. Watch at how he trembles. Are you going to pish yourself, Armstrong?” He sneered at Alex, but it fell when Alex still acted as though no one was around.
“Armstrong?” Christopher tried to gain his attention, but Alex barely registered the voices. He was certain he was hearing men from the battle. How could it be anything else since he was standing on the field in Liddesdale?
“We can kill him, and not only do we not have to worry aboot him defending himself, he won’t even know it’s happening,” Paul pointed out before his fist landed against Alex’s left cheek. His head whipped back, and he stumbled. Christopher was next, landing an upper cut to Alex’s jaw. Losing his balance, Alex swayed toward Collin, who held a dirk. But unprepared for Alex’s movements, Collin only slashed a nick across Alex’s wounded arm.
Alex felt the beating and couldn’t reconcile the fresh pain with what happened during battle. The enemy had left him for dead, but he’d pulled himself onto his feet and found the strength to drag Brice to the tree line before he collapsed. No one had pummeled and kicked him. Besides the knife slicing his cheek, there had been no other dirks piercing his skin. As his mind cleared from the traumatic fog, he realized he was no longer experiencing a memory. He roared as he pulled a dirk from his belt and rolled away from the men who all stood to his right.
Pressing his weight onto his left arm made Alex bellow once again, but it made his attackers pause. Still agile, Alex came to his feet and pointed his dagger at Christopher. When he observed the men preparing for Alex to charge, he hurled the blade at Collin instead, lodging it above the man’s collarbone. Blood geysered from it, taking the other two Scotts’ attention from Alex. He flung a second knife that landed in Paul’s ribs. Paul hollered with pain as Collin sagged toward the floor.
“I still have plenty more knives. Where shall I throw the next? Christopher, you seem to be the odd mon out. Mayhap you are next.” Using his clansmen as a shield, Christopher pulled Paul and Collin backwards until they disappeared into the shadows. Alex waited until he was certain none of them intended to return. He took five backward steps in the opposite direction whence the Scotts came. Then he collapsed; another clap of thunder and bolt of lightning were all he remembered.
Eight
Caitlyn rolled in her bed toward the incessant banging at her door. Her roommate, Evina, sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. The women glanced at one another before turning back to the door.
“Lady Caitlyn,” came an urgent voice. “Lady Caitlyn.” Another knock. “Lady Caitlyn, please open the door.”
Caitlyn recognized the voice as one of her guards. She bolted from her bed, not bothering to grab her robe. She could think of nothing but horrible news that would bring one of her guardsmen to her door in the middle of the night. She flung it open to find Grant standing before her.
“What’s happened?” Caitlyn demanded.
“It’s Armstrong. Someone’s attacked him,” Grant whispered. “It’s bad, my lady. Very bad. You need to come.”
“Let me get presentable, then take me to him.” Caitlyn pressed the door closed and turned to Evina. “I know you heard. If you say a word, I will know.”
“Caitlyn, you know I won’t say aught,” Evina reassured Caitlyn. She mostly believed the other woman. She was a gossip, but Caitlyn had never heard that Evina spoke about or against her. She had no time to say anything more while she pulled a plain kirtle from a peg. It was one she wore when she visited the almshouse to give out bread. It laced in the front. She was still pulling the laces tight when she opened the door, having barely stopped to slide her feet into slippers.
“This way,” Grant whispered as Caitlyn finished tying her gown closed. She lifted her skirts and hurried to keep up with Grant’s swift pace. She’d never been on the bachelors’ floor, and a sense of unease grew, knowing it would destroy her reputation if anyone learned of her presence. She peered over Grant’s shoulder and recognized two of her other guards, Duncan and Devlin. She assumed they waited outside Alex’s door. When she and Grant reached the other two men, she noticed their expressions. It made her stomach drop. She reached out for Devlin’s arm.
“Tell me now. Is he dead?” Caitlyn rasped.
“No, my lady. But they’ve beaten him badly. Whoever did this wanted him dead. All we can tell is two dirk sheaths are empty. We’re assuming he defended himself long enough to scare them away. When we went back to where he was found, there was a puddle of blood, but it wasn’t near him, my lady.”
“Who found him?”
“His men. They watched him leave with you. When he didn’t return, they were going to his chamber to confirm they were leaving in the morn. They found him in the passageway. One of them came for us, telling us you’re needed, my lady.”
Caitlyn looked at the men, grateful that they’d agreed and grateful that the Armstrong guards sent for her. “You can’t all wait outside his door. You’ll draw too much attention. Is he alone?”
