As they approached the burning village, all of Katherine’s worst suspicions were confirmed in an instant.
The thatched roofs of the town’s shops and homes were in flames. The air was full of hoofbeats, and the screams and moans of the wounded or bereaved. The ground was littered with corpses, freshly hacked and bloodied. Some of them were being cradled by weeping loved ones. There was thick smoke everywhere, and the poor villagers choked and gagged on it. Even those who had not been injured fell to their knees, red-eyed and soot-smudged.
And hanging above all the carnage and devastation were the banners of Clan McGregor.
Those banners, and the brutes who held them aloft, were already retreating from the scene when Katherine and Bryan made it to the town. It was just as well, she supposed; for she knew that Bryan would not have been able to restrain himself from riding to the aid of the townsfolk, and outnumbered by the McGregor raiders, he would doubtless have fallen in battle moments later. She was darkly grateful that her father’s menwere so well-versed in the arts of terror and depredation, so that their heinous crimes had not taken long to commit.
Still, no one could deny the sheer devastation they left in their wake.
Bryan wisely chose not to pursue them. However, as he swiftly dismounted and charged toward the fray, Katherine briefly worried that he might, seeking vengeance for his countrymen. He ran to the well, beckoning for any who were still standing and uninjured to join him.
“Bring buckets!” he cried out over the sounds of suffering. “Pots, flagons, anything that might hold water! We must douse the flames as best we can, before they spread further!”
Before she knew what she was doing, Katherine found herself at his side, grabbing buckets and other discarded receptacles from the ground. Within moments, a line had formed at her side. Under the captain’s leadership, vessels of water were quickly passed along, from the well to the crackling flames.
How much time went by as the ash-streaked hands passed the buckets back and forth, tossing the water on the smoldering areas? Katherine could not say. It felt like hours, but might have been mere minutes.
All she knew for certain was that by the time it was over, her lips were dry and cracked, her skin was red, her hands were blistered, her back was terribly sore—and the fires were out.
Despite their best efforts, though, it seemed there was little left of the village by the time it was all over. The place resembled nothing so much as a collection of charred kindling. Only a handful of structures were left recognizable, and even those would not be habitable without tremendous repairs. There were patches of leaves and grass that still glowed a wavering and malevolent orange from the lingering flames.
The most heartbreaking sight, though, was the crowd of displaced people.
Many of them were small children, who stared straight ahead; shocked and forlorn, shivering, inconsolable, while their parents and grandparents wept and shrieked all around them.
“This is monstrous!” Katherine balked. “How could my father allow such a thing?”
“I fear he did far more than merely allow it,” Bryan said wearily. He was out of breath, wheezing, his face red from the exertions of fighting the fire. “He surely ordered it. As a warning, no doubt, of further hostilities if we dinnae release his daughters.”
Katherine’s face turned deathly pale. “He would order the burning and butchering of innocents tae send such a message?”
“He ordered the murder of Lady Isla for far less,” Bryan reminded her, still panting. He reached up and used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe the soot from his forehead.
“I knew how hideous his hatred of the Oliphants was,” Katherine whispered in a strangled tone. “But I had no notion that he would ever commit such vile atrocities against those who dinnae deserve it. Against families, children!”
Bryan knew what he had to do at that moment, and though he hated to take advantage of her grief and horror, he understood that the stakes were far higher than that. The tragedy of their surroundings proved that.
He gestured around them. “This is precisely the sort of lunacy we are trying tae prevent by ensuring that yer father cannae inflict further terrors on our people. This is why we have sought yer aid so earnestly. We dinnae wish tae bring yer clan tae ruin, only tae see tae it that we can live in peace next tae the McGregors without fearing for our lives.”
The words hung in the air between them, as thick as the smoke. Katherine turned away and lowered her head, considering what she had seen and heard.
Bryan left her to her contemplation, for he knew that no good would come from pressuring her further. Instead, he assisted the townsfolk in burying their loved ones for the next several hours, murmuring prayers over the deceased even as he more privately prayed that Katherine would be swayed.
By the time the bodies had been interred, night had fallen. Bryan did all he could to help the people build meager shelters to rest in, but materials were few, and none among them—not even the captain—had strength left to go to the nearby forests and chop wood for more substantial cover. Most were reduced to curling up on whatever grass wasn’t charred, holding their younger relatives close, and crying themselves to sleep.
Bryan peered over at Katherine. She had done all she could in helping with the shelters, but the earlier exertions had left her weak. She was not used to physical labor, and even less accustomed to the gruesome things she’d endured that day. She remained white as a ghost, and her entire body was trembling.
He wanted to go to her, to comfort her. But he knew that for her to make the choice she needed to, she needed to be left to herself. Sure enough, after another hour or so, she approached Bryan.
“Ye did good work, helping these people after what happened,” Bryan observed quietly.
“Dinnae say that,” she retorted, her voice shaking. “If I had agreed tae help ye in the first place, perhaps this might have been avoided. But instead, I chose tae care more about my father’s acceptance and my clan’s pride… and now these people are without homes, and mourning losses no one should be forced tae bear.”
“Ye chose as most would,” Bryan reassured her. “None can judge ye for that. Ye knew only what yer father chose tae tell ye, so that ye might share his hatred of us.”
“Lies,” she spat bitterly. “I see that now. I understand now how foolish I was tae believe them, without seeing the proof with my own eyes. I was blind tae the realities of allowing this horrid conflict tae go any further.” She took a deep breath, summoning all her strength. “I will not return tae that wretched devil of a man. I renounce all fealty tae him. I shall do whatever ye ask of me, that no more of this evil shall be inflicted upon the Oliphants in his name. If I might save the life of but a single child, it will have been worth it, even if it means I will never look upon my own lands again.”
She fell to her knees then, and wept, to Bryan’s surprise. “Can ye ever forgive me for my stubbornness, Captain Black? Can ye absolve me of the terrible guilt, knowing I might have stopped this from happening?”
