Cairnross glanced back at the rest of the fighting, a smug expression on his face. “Harkirk intends to claim his rightful share of your holdings, after you tried to cheat him with false silver. And as for me—“ He nodded to the guard upon his left, who departed for the keep. “I lost many of my slaves on the night you attacked. I want compensation for the loss.”
“You weren’t interested in keeping them alive,” Bram responded. “You wanted them to work until they died, and that was enough for you.”
Cairnross shrugged. “They served their purpose.” Near the gates, more soldiers streamed inside, only to be met by MacKinloch fighters.
Though Bram was glad to see his kinsmen striking down the enemy, inwardly, he grew colder, afraid that there was no way for them to win this fight.
“Being a traitor has its price,” Cairnross said. “And our orders are to suppress any rebellion.”
That was it, then. They weren’t planning to let any of them live. Though he’d suspected as much, hearing it was enough to make him grip his claymore and raise it toward Gilbert de Bouche. He might die this day, but he fully intended to take Cairnross with him, for what he’d done to so many men.
“Then I’ll die fighting.” Bram started to swing his claymore when one of the guards came racing back.
“They’re not here, my lord.” The guard’s face was red and he was out of breath. “We’ve searched everywhere. None of the women or children are inside the fortress.”
“They’re in hiding, then,” Cairnross proclaimed. “Burn them out.”
Bram’s skin turned to ice. Most of the fortress was made of wood; if it burned down, it would collapse upon the storage entrance, burying the women and children alive.
The rage inside him threatened to break out, and he gritted his teeth to keep his control. He needed to fight for Nairna and the others, not letting his temper master him.
A cry he didn’t even recognize came from his throat as he swung the claymore hard. The two soldiers guarded Cairnross, and his blade struck their wooden shields with no effect.
Cairnross moved away, giving orders to the other men to set the keep on fire. Bram fought hard against the two guards, not even feeling the exhaustion as his claymore became an extension of himself.
Ross came up from behind. The older man struck the soldier on the left, bringing him down. Bram finished the man on the right when the soldier’s attention was distracted by the death of his companion.
But they were too late. Already, smoke was rising into the air, the keep blazing. He saw them adding oil to the flames, and as the conflagration spread faster, Bram knew there was no hope of saving it.
“Mary, Mother of God,” Ross breathed. He broke into a run, and Bram was close behind.
It was only a matter of time before the unstable structure collapsed.
Chapter Twenty
Nairna could smell the smoke filling up the castle keep. “We can’t stay here,” she insisted. “We have to evacuate the others.”
Laren’s hand covered her mouth, but she nodded. “I know it. But they’ll see us leaving and follow. We’ll die if we try to go.”
Terror boiled inside her stomach, but Nairna saw no other choice. And when the scent of smoke grew stronger, she didn’t waste any more time. “I’d rather risk my chances with the soldiers than be burned to death.”
“Dougal, I need your help.” She touched his shoulder, wishing she didn’t have to burden a boy with such a task. But their lives depended on it. “We have to get the women and children out. They can go to our house on the ridge, but I need help keeping the soldiers back. Do you have a bow?”
He nodded, pointing to the back of the underground chamber. “There are extra weapons hidden there.”
“Good.” Though she wasn’t particularly good with a bow and arrows, she’d stand with Dougal and fight.
But only a moment later Callum emerged, holding two bows and quivers of arrows. Nairna tried to take one, but he refused to let go of the weapon.
His brown eyes held a darkness in them and a fierce demeanor that frightened her. But she couldn’t let Callum’s madness interfere with their escape.
“Can you defend us?” she asked.
His eyes met hers, and he gave a single nod. Nairna stepped back, unsure of whether or not trusting him was a good idea. But then Marguerite started to gather the women together, and Callum caught the young woman’s hand.
He held it for a fraction of a moment, meeting her gaze. Marguerite’s cheeks flamed, but she nodded. “I know,” she whispered.
The underground chamber had one exit that led outside to the back of the keep. Below it lay a large ditch, partially filled with rainwater, that the men had dug to keep out invaders on that side. Nairna started to move forward, but Marguerite stopped her.
