She squatted behind a large rock and let loose enough water to create a small fjord. As she balanced against the stone and continued the steady stream, a flash of light from the faded blue-gray rise of land north of them caught her attention. “Thorburn!”
“Aye?” He stepped into view, revealing he had dismounted and stood guard to ensure her privacy.
“There.” She pointed as she yanked up her trews and straightened her clothes. “I saw the sun bounce off steel. Right where the second hill dips down and joins the third. Watch that line of shadows at the base of the ridge. How it shifts. That is the darkness of an army moving.”
Eyes narrowed, he focused on the area.
She stared at the spot as well, every muscle tightening as the movement of Alrek’s numbers became easier to make out. The cunning fool had shifted tactics, taken to the south rather than the north. She turned to apologize for giving such poor advice regarding her vile sibling, but instead, found herself struck silent.
Thorburn’s strong, fierce stance sent a tingle through her like the strike of nearby lightning. His light hair gleamed in the sunlight, and the stubble of his short beard glinted like gold. He shone like a godlike warrior of light, made even more breathtaking when he took to his saddle on a stallion blacker than the darkest night.
He reached down for her. “Come, I feel sure they have seen us.”
She paused a moment, scanning the area, assessing its advantages and shortcomings. This would not be a terrible place to battle—if they could convince Alrek to turn and engage rather than charge on to Duart. She took his hand and launched herself back into place in front of him. “We should bait him to fight us here. Would that not be better than risking those working on the castle?”
Thorburn hugged an arm around her middle but didn’t pull her back against his chest. His continued mindfulness of her tender back stirred a dangerous softness in her heart, a softness she needed to harden and set aside whilst they battled. Warring called for concentration. Especially when her Scot and all he cared about were at risk.
He turned the horse. “I prefer we meet at Duart. We should easily beat them there and join with the rest of our number.”
While she didn’t necessarily agree, she yielded without argument. This had become more than a battle between herself and her brother. This had become a scourging to ensure that not only Alrek fell, but that no others dared take up their swords and continue his cause.
Thorburn spurred his mount into a full gallop. His men followed suit. FiftyGallóglaighshook the earth, charging across the land. They streamed out onto the peninsula to the nearly completed fortress. Perched atop a rocky crag, the stone fortification looked out upon the channel, not only controlling it but also Lochs Linne and Etive and the neck of the Firth of Lorne where the waterways joined the Sound of Mull. Duart Castle. A powerful holding. Her Scottish bear had been correct. This was the perfect place for Alrek to fall.
Adellis sat taller, impressed by the legion of men standing guard atop the completed portions of the walls and on either side of the steps leading to the narrow, arched entry. As Thorburn helped her dismount, she admired the work of the stonemasons. To carve and fit such an array of different shaped stones, and all while under attack, took dedicated artisans, indeed.
“They should reach us soon.” Thorburn signaled his brothers, the lines around his mouth tightening as he looked out upon what would soon be a battlefield. His gaze slid to her. “I ken well enough the foolishness of the request I am about to make—”
She cut him off with a look and a hand pressed to his chest. “I must face him. For all that has happened between us, I must do this. I will not run from him any longer. This is not just a matter of my freedom anymore. It is many wrongs that need to be made right.”
He took hold of her shoulders and pulled her close, staring into her eyes with a raging intensity that shouted his unspoken fears. “I need ye safe. Whole,” he rasped. “I willna bear losing ye again.”
“My soul will not rest until I settle this.” She knew of no way to make him understand. The realization had taken forever to make itself known to her. This lifelong battle with her twin must end. Today. “I will be fine, my ferocious bear.” The high wall gave her a compromise to offer him some small ease. “I will take to the wall, yes? Use my bow for as long as possible and steer clear of the fray.”
Relief flickered in the storming blue of his eyes. “Aye,” he agreed after a long pause filled with so much frustration the air crackled.
Ross and Valan appeared. Their knaves, loaded down with a wide assortment of extra weapons, followed close on their heels. Thorburn’s attendants had yet to show with his additional spears, axes, and blades.
“Where are Hendry and Tasgall? They should be at your side by now.” Adellis craned her neck, searching for the young men entrusted to serve her mighty bear.
“They search for armor and more weapons for yerself.” Thorburn shielded his eyes, watching the neck of the peninsula for Alrek’s arrival.
Adellis smiled. Not because of what he had said, but because of his concentration. It comforted her. Such focus would keep him alive. She pulled on his arm. “A kiss, my love, before I go to the wall.”
His focus whipped away from the approaching army and locked on her. “M’love?” His hand slid along her jaw and tipped back her head. “Ye usually address me as yerbear, m’lady.”
She caressed his cheek, his short beard tickling her palm. “You will always be myScottish bear, but you are now alsomy love.” She breathed him in, forever storing his scent in every fiber. With a teasing smile, she angled her chin to an imperious slant. “You should be honored. I do not bestow the title lightly.”
“I am, m’love,” he whispered, then took her mouth with his.
She clung to him for as long as she dared, then forced herself to tear free and run up the stairs without looking back. The possessiveness of his kiss gave her strength, sent her into battle with the confidence she needed. She strode to the highest point, climbing to where no other dared to perch.
“M’lady!”
Balanced on the narrow path running atop the curtain wall stood Tasgall and Hendry. Tasgall held up a cumbersome hauberk of chain mail, a dented helmet, and a shield. Hendry wrestled with a spiked mace, an oversized axe, and a spear. “Please come down, so’s I can help ye ready yerself,” Tasgall called out. “M’lord has so ordered it.”
Never would she keep her balance if she donned all that garb and attempted a return to her pinnacle. “Leave it there and go to your master. Protect him. That is your duty.”
Both scowled up at her as if trying to figure out how to knock her from her perch. “But m’lord wishes ye fully armored, m’lady,” Hendry said, squinting one eye shut against the glare of the sun. He pointed at the weapons propped against the battlement. “And ye will need these, too.”
